The Sean Hayes Interview
Northern California-based singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Sean Hayes is a legend among legends. Releasing music for over two decades now, the veteran musician is one with elements as his complex career breathes in and out from one genre into the next like some lyrical lung. Having stellar stats working alongside artists like Shahzad Ismaily, Todd Roper of Cake, and frequent Tom Waits horn player Ara Anderson, Hayes’ pursuit of poetic perfection is incredibly inspirational as he sonically surfs the ancient skies from one album, show, tour, and song like a biblical bird seeking new heights, and locations rich in creative freedom.
Photo: Freda Banks
Born and raised in New York, tell me about growing up in North Carolina, before relocating to Northern California to plant roots. When did you first begin to connect with music, specifically the guitar, and was this relevant to your household growing up? Who were some of your earliest influences during your formative years, and how quickly did the gap from learning to play to wanting to perform and record music happen for you? Did you participate in any groups or projects before your career as a solo musician?
Photo: Bethany Weiss
My family moved from New York to North Carolina when I was six or seven. No one played music in my house except some occasional loud operatic singing from my father that would send the dogs running. I started playing guitar around 13 or 14, but not till I wrote my first song around 17 did something click, and I got the bug. I went to college in North Carolina for a year or so to study theater, but music took over. I returned to my hometown, Greensboro, NC, and eventually joined a band. We played Irish, old-time, and original music like "The Boys of Blue Hill." They were a beautiful group, but I was young and exploded. I ran all over the country for a while and somehow ended up in San Francisco around 1993. As a kid into my late teens, I was into Blondie, The Beatles, Billy Joel, The Police, and The Smiths. Then, joining a folk band in my late teens and early 20s, we began exploring Irish and Bluegrass groups like The Bothy Band, Paul Brady, Andy Irvine, Tony Rice, Norman Blake, and David Grisman. Also Stephan Grappelli and Django Reinhardt. Luckily, the leader of the band, Michael Horowitz, was into playing live, so we quickly started doing shows.
Photo: Ingrid Bostrom
Traveling back in time when things were quite different, to say the least, what were those early days like working on albums such as “Lunar Lust,” “Alabama Chicken,” which features a great cover of Dylan’s “Walkin’ Down The Line,” and “Run Wolves Run”?
Recording used to be quite different. I was always broke, and studios were expensive. Eventually, though, I realized I was waiting for something to happen, so I stopped and just started recording what I could on a four-track cassette or in somebody’s basement. I began releasing songs on cassette tape and borrowing money to make CDs. “Alabama Chicken” was recorded live in a friend’s little gingerbread house on a hill in Mill Valley. It was an incredible document of a weekend with amazing musicians like Jolie Holland, Dave Mihaly, and Enzo Garcia. “Lunar Lust” was an accidental record I recorded in a friend's basement, once again, and just started handing out burnt CDs. Eventually, I called it a record. It’s hard to imagine or remember how difficult it was to record and put out music all those years ago. Now it lives free in the streaming world. For “Run Wolves Run,” we were in a real studio. Mostly live performances, but in a more controlled environment that featured Etienne de Rocher and Scott McDowell, who added the sonic medicine, Andrew Borger on drums, and Devra Hoff on bass. These guys are incredible musicians, I am so proud to have played with them.
Jumping ahead to your more recent efforts like “Be Like Water” and “Low Light,” I’d love to know some of the backstories to songs like “Invisible Weight,” “Joy,” “Magic Slim Vs Dynamite,” and “Paper Rock Dominio.” I’m curious to know the decision(s) to self-release most of your work over the years.
“Invisible Weight” has an interesting inspiration. Sometimes we carry stories around in our heads for years, thinking something went down a certain way, and we need to get the person on the phone and talk it out. Apologize if necessary. Sometimes it turns out you could be carrying around something that is an illusion or has been blown up by your imagination. I had the opening line to “Joy” in my head for 15 years. Sometimes I would catch myself singing “Joy, joy, joy.” It never went anywhere until one day it did: “Joy, joy, joy. Slow burn in the afternoon. Joy, bring me joy. You burn me down, that’s what you do…” For me, “Magic Slim vs Dynamite” is a rare song about an imaginary story not coming from an actual event, but dreaming about two dudes dancing and battling somewhere on the mean streets of Petaluma. “Paper Rock Domino” is a reflection on random ways to die. On remaining a self-released/independent artist versus being with a record label, it comes down to laziness in some ways. I’m not very good at calling people up and asking for things, but I am pretty good at showing up every day and doing what I need to do to put out songs, so I’ve just kept doing that over the years. See if anybody notices.
Photo by Freda Banks
Having worked with several wonderful artists such as Shahzad Ismaily, Todd Roper of Cake, and frequent Tom Waits horn player Ara Anderson. When you reflect on the early decades of your career, what are you most proud of? What do you reflect on most often in your works?
I am lucky to play with such amazing players as those guys, as well as Andrew Borger, Jamie Moore, Jason Carr, John Courage, and Jessie Lemme Adams. There was a time I was super intimidated to play with such great musicians, because I thought of myself more as a songwriter and not much of a musician. I’ve slowly gotten more comfortable over the years. Eventually, you learn these great players want to play as much as possible. If I had to point to something in my past, I am proud of the record “Big Black Hole and the Little Baby Star” that comes to mind. The recording is going to be 20 years old next year. I loved making that record with Etienne De Rocher in his little garage in Berkeley. A real dynamic moment of life is captured inside those recordings.
