RICH ROBINSON
Biography
Press
Release, November 1, 2004
Press Release, September 8,
2004
Press
Release, June 4, 2004
Press
Release, January 6, 2004
Rich Robinson's talents are
already familiar to the millions of fans who've embraced his work as
guitarist/songwriter/co-founder of the Black Crowes.
But his debut solo effort Paper
is a potent musical statement that's likely to come as a pleasant surprise to
even his most ardent admirers.
The self-produced album—on the artist's own Key Hole label—finds
Robinson singing lead and playing most of the instruments on 14 original
compositions that reveal the young veteran to be both a distinctive, eloquent
lyricist and an engaging, expressive singer.
While rockers like "Know Me," "Enemy" and
"Remain" embody the ballsy, rootsy crunch that put Robinson's former
band on the map, Paper also
encompasses a more thoughtful, introspective side, as well as an unmistakably
adventurous sonic vision that manifests itself in the acoustic, orchestral and
psychedelic textures of such tunes as "Veil," "When You
Will," "Falling Away" and "Forgiven Song."
Paper is the product of a
lengthy period of personal and musical self-discovery that began when the Black
Crowes—the band Robinson formed with his vocalist brother Chris while both
were in their teens—went on indefinite hiatus early in 2002.
During their 13-year, seven-album recording career, the group almost
singlehandedly restored raunchy, no-frills rock 'n' roll swagger to commercial
prominence, while earning a near-mythical reputation for its combustible
internal chemistry.
"After the Crowes broke up," Robinson explains, "I sat
around for a few months and spent time with my family, and then I started trying
to figure out what I wanted to do. It
was a struggle for awhile, because at the time there were a lot of family deaths
and various weirdness that happened all at once, and I'd never really had to
deal with that kind of stuff before. And
I'd been in the Crowes for my whole adult life, so when it stopped, it was like,
'Well, what the hell am I supposed to do now?'"
Robinson built a recording studio in his Connecticut home, did some
writing and producing with other artists, and made his first venture into film
soundtrack work by writing and performing the score for the 2002 feature
Highway. He also developed his longstanding interest in painting into
a fulfilling creative sideline. Meanwhile,
he continued to write songs.
As an outlet for the new compositions he'd been accumulating, Robinson
formed a four-piece band, Hookah Brown, which hit the road in early 2003 for an
extended club tour that won enthusiastic notices from fans and critics alike. But, having spent his entire musical career as a team player,
he eventually realized that he was in no rush to return to the politics of band
life, choosing instead to shoulder the burden of a solo career.
"Eventually I just said 'Screw it, I'll just do it myself,'" he
recalls of his decision to become a frontman.
"I'd never really sung lead, so I started taking singing lessons,
and the first lesson showed me what I'd been doing wrong, and I immediately
became a stronger singer. I started
thinking about writing lyrics that worked for my voice.
And I tried playing some shows and singing, which was fun, and that built
up my confidence about singing."
Robinson recorded Paper largely
on his own, cutting tracks in old-school analog style and playing most of the
instruments except drums, which were provided by Joe Magistro.
The album also features guest appearances by ex-Black Crowes keyboardist
Eddie Hawrsch and BR549's Donnie Herron on fiddle and pedal steel.
"It was a little weird," Robinson admits, "because I'd
never made a record without my brother before and I was used to having a bunch
of people in the studio. But it was
also cool, because I was learning new things and because I felt like I felt like
I was able to create something new, without the baggage of my musical
history."
Robinson took Paper's iconoclastic focus a step further by deciding to build his
solo career from the ground up, bypassing the music industry's unwieldy
machinery. "At some point I
realized that I just didn't want to deal with record companies anymore," he
states. "I don't want to deal
with anyone telling me to change my songs or what producer to use.
I don't want to spend six million dollars making a record and then worry
about having to sell six million records to pay for it.
So I decided to try doing it myself.
The music business is kind of like Rome burning right now, and I don't
think the traditional record-company methods work anymore.
I think that music's going back to the underground way of doing things,
and I'm excited about being a part of that."