Grant-Lee Phillips is a consummate storyteller, a chronicler of personal and political history and mythology, whose work has been showcased both with his popular band Grant Lee Buffalo and on his own critically acclaimed solo recordings. Phillips’ latest album, Virginia Creeper, is a stunning collection of resonant story-songs that take the listener to new interior ports of entry.
As with the best of Grant Lee Buffalo, Phillips new solo album mines a motherlode of mythic Americana, indelibly chiseled characters, haunting balladry and a stark kind of instrumentation that seems to both define and defy it's place in time. Where his previous outing, Mobilize, was a one-man show with Phillips playing all the instruments, Virginia Creeper is an ensemble piece, hinging on the high voltage charge of the moment.
The old world strains of “Mona Lisa,” the resplendent “Lily-a-Passion” and the emotionally torn “Always Friends” are snapshots of the soul. Other songs like the enchanting delta tale “Josephine of the Swamps” and “Susanna Little” are historical epics that travel back in time to the dark crossroads of the early to mid-twentieth century. While "Susanna Little" captures the tearfully moving odyssey of the Native American begging the question "How far have we come?", the looming “Far End of the Night” casts a dashboard glow on a midnight journey, "with no savior there beside," when “time hangs like a noose.”
Once voted best male vocalist by Rolling Stone, Phillips has often taken his words to soaring heights. The songs on Virginia Creeper are no exception, full of visionary cinematic lyrics of both triumph and tragedy. From the heart stricken lover in “Dirty Secret” to the romantic wild abandon of "Wish I knew" the songs are painted by stark minimal gestures – a lone guitar, an occasional fiddle, a tinge of parlor piano, brushed drums, upright bass, Cindy Wasserman's smokey harmonies weaving with Phillips mellifluous voice. " We found this blend in our voices, I never had to say a word, we just sang...” recalls Phillips. "...there's a shared love of Merle Haggard, Ray Price, Gram Parsons. We could sing that stuff for hours, did and still do..." This pairing led Phillips to include a gorgeous cover of Parsons’ “Hickory Wind”.
The new album was recorded quickly, one week of tracking and another mixing at Hollywood's famed Sunset Sound Factory with Grammy Award winning recording engineer S. Husky Höskulds. “I didn't want to approach it with excessive overdubs and I couldn't have made this album alone, by myself,” explains Phillips. “I'd done that with my last record, Mobilize. This time, the songs had a simplicity that would best be served by taking them into a studio with feeling, responsive musicians.” Those musicians included violinist and touring veteran Eric Gorfain, pianist Zac Rae, upright bassists Sheldon Gomberg and ex-Soul Coughing member Sebastian Steinberg, along with drummer Kevin Jarvis, with whom Phillips toured to support Mobilize. Along with vocalist Cindy Wasserman and the Section Quartet, this would comprise the live in-studio group, dubbed "The Virginia Creepers." Other friends and L.A. notables such as Jon Brion (ukulele), Bill Bonk (accordion), Greg Leisz (dobro, pedal steel & mandolin) and Danny Frankel (percussion) added brilliant finishing touches as the session approached completion.
Since parting ways in 1999 with Grant Lee Buffalo, Phillips has carved out an impressive solo career. Newsweek called Mobilize “a triumph,” while The Boston Globe noted that “Phillips, like genre peers R.E.M. and U2, can still reach great heights.” Those heights are achieved once again with the aptly named Virginia Creeper, an album that grows on the listener with repeated listening. “I liked the metaphor,” concludes Phillips, “a slow but persistent vine, ever weaving, ever climbing—like a melody.” He adds: “I also like the idea of words as vines, songs as vines and as a symbol for my life, weaving persistently. It may not appear that there's any movement going on, but nevertheless there is. There's also something vaguely antique-ish about the title, which suits my obsession with all things decaying and the ghosts that have come to dwell in my songs.”
Mona Lisa
You're the last of your kind, Mona Lisa
With a wink of your eye,
Ya make it all right
Oh there's more left to life, Mona Lisa
Let me take you along for the ride
Ain't nothing' that stays the same
Won't ask it a' you
Just that burgundy smile you wore yesterday
Say ya won't ever lose
I been down, I been worse
Mona Lisa
Came in last, came in first
But it all gathers dirt, Mona Lisa
'Fore ya bathe in the light
Ain't nothing' that stays the same
Won't ask it a' you
Just that burgundy smile you wore yesterday
Say ya won't ever lose
Oh ya taught me this much, Mona Lisa
I done set it aside
For when you need the same magic touch
For when you need remindin'
Ain't nothing that stays the same
Won't ask it a' you
Just that burgundy smile you wore yesterday
Say ya won't ever lose
Just that burgundy smile you wore yesterday
Say ya won't ever lose
Waking Memory
Shippin' off to the country
Where the tales are tall
You'll come back with a story
Or ya won't come back at all
Tom-tom rumors are pounding
Rustling in the leaves
Nothin' you wanna spread around
Like Johnny Appleseed
Always
In my waking memory
You're always
In my waking memory
always
Some new plague in the making
Best not bat an eye
No sleep for the living
When you're in a fire fight
Always
In my waking memory
Always
You're always
In my waking memory
Always
Lily-A-Passion
Hey, she's a piratey soul
Full a' vinegar and glitter
She is a song of her own
From down the wrong end of the river
Wild, like the lily-a-passion
Have you ever had the honors
Oh no, no, no, no, no, no
Hey, when your carnival rose
Sows the kiss of belladonna
There ain't no takin' it slow
For the avalanches' daughter
Wild, like the lily-a-passion
Have you ever had the honors
Oh no, no
Oh, no, no
Oh,no,no,no,no,no,no
She is the lily-a-passion
She is the lily-a-passion
She is the lily-a-passion
She is the lily-uh huh
She is a canary royal
Save the curse a' Desdamona
Bright, bright, bright is the blush of her smile
Like the apples a' Pomona
Wild, like the lily-a-passion
Have you ever had the honors
Oh no, no, no,no,no, no
Hey, she's the fork in the road
When the road has come to splinter
Yea, she's the spark in the coal
Come the bitterness a' winter
Wild, like the lily-a-passion
Have you ever had the honors
Oh no, no
oh, no, no
Oh,no,no,no,no,no,no
She is the lily-a-passion
She is the lily-a-passion
She is the lily-a-passion
She is the lily-uh huh
Dirty Secret
Casanova broke ya
Just like china
He was smooth as southern Blue Bell Cream
'Cept he never meant to share that diamond ring
So you take up to the rooftop, pining
Aim to touch the moon a' golden white
Lord, the air is damp, the stars are teary eyed
Here's a little secret, love
Everybody comes undone
Here's a dirty secret Darlin'
Everyone
From the ballroom you can hear them laughing
Pretty maidens and your own Don Juan
And ya tell yourself
They'll miss you when you're gone
Here's a little secret, love
Everybody comes undone
Here's a dirty secret Darlin'
Everyone
Cross yourself, by Jesus
Now your head is all a blur
Questions don't come easier
Answers, they get longer
Here's a little secret, love
Everybody comes undone
Here's a dirty secret Darlin'
Everyone
Here's a little secret, love
Everybody comes undone
Here's a dirty secret Darlin'
Everyone
Always Friends
Always friend
Always friend
Still some fences
We may never mend
In our time
Broken hearts
Broken lines
Every now and then
Ya spring ta mind
And we are
Always friends
Always friends
Always and forever
Thick or thin
Push it away before I let you in
And make the same mistakes twice
Dim the lights
Such is hell
Hey and such is life
And we are always friends
Always friends
Always friends
Broken hearts
Broken lines
Pray there never comes a second time
Because it's such a court
Such a crime
Find the strength to leave the past behind
And we are always friends
Always friends
Always friends
Always
Push it away before I let you in
Commit the same wrongs twice
Such is hell
Hey and such is life
And we are always friends
Calamity Jane
Drunk on the blood of a hero's welcome, babe
Ringin' in the year with a ticker tape parade
While the motorcade is stretched from First to Main
Calamity Jane, shootin' off that mouth again
Hey, hey, hey
Pin all your sins on your Man of Sorrow then
Stroll through the crowd with a black mantilla, friend
While they're whisperin' like locusts in the grain
Calamity Jane
Hit it on the nose again
Hey, hey, hey
Hey, hey, hey
Calamity Jane
Calamity Jane
Calamity Jane
Washed in the tears of the revolution, babe
Born in the back of a Studebaker
American made
Ah but girl have you no shame
Calamity Jane
Honey, take heart and take aim
Hey, hey, hey
Hey, hey, hey
Calamity Jane
Calamity Jane
Calamity Jane
Calamity Jane
Josephine Of The Swamps
Oh the slough winds all serpentine
Full of black delta peat
Yellow bronze grapes of muscadine
Growing wild and sweet
On the shore Lady, there ya were
In your robes of a queen
And your lips sang a heron's song
In my hour of need
And I feel I wanna' crow
Howlin' in my sleep
Churning in my soul
Josephine
Oh the wasteland is plenty wide
Far as I ever seen
And the swamp, she's a full of moonlight
Full of mangrove trees
And I feel I wanna' crow
Howlin' in my sleep
Churning in my soul
Josephine
Pity darkness to follow me
With its crocodile leer
For the hatchet of Josephine
Of the swamps might appear
And I feel I wanna' crow
Howlin' in my sleep
Churning in my soul
Josephine
And I feel I wanna' crow
howlin' in my sleep
churning in my soul
Josephine
Far End of The Night
Buddy some Topeka night
When its just you and the road
Seen no taillights there for miles
And nothing' much but static on the radio
Wasn't lookin' to the left
Wasn't lookin' to the right
Just kept walking' like Virginia to the surf
Towards the far end of the night
Time hangs like a noose
Before me
Time stills to a crawl
Grinds so slowly
Heard my own beloved cry
I heard my one beloved moan
What's the use in all the ache we must endure
I had no good reason why
Time hangs like a noose
Before me
Time stills to a crawl
Grinds so slowly
Not a rail to grasp ahold
Nor a savior there beside
Juan kept a walkin' like Virginia to the surf
Towards the far end of the night
Time hangs like a noose
Before me
Time stills to a crawl
Grinds so slowly
And time hangs like a noose
Around me
Sussana Little
Sussana Little
Sussana Little
Gone 'fore I ever arrived
Questions that stream through my own Creek blood
The odyssey of your life
A motherless child, you were torn from your home
By decree of the county affairs
Good Christians, they gave you a lily-white dress
And shorn back that Indian hair
Told ya study your Bible, be silent and still
And take to the ways of the whites
Nothin' they offered could break down your will
For you ran for the gates one night
Sussana Little
Sussana Little
Gone 'fore I ever arrived
Questions that stream through my own Creek blood
Stories that keep you alive
Your daddy, Joe Little, had woes of his own
Drink was much stronger than greed
But some in the city felt native red hands
Were no place to let rest a deed
Oklahoma was rich with the stench of black oil
And the men who came there to drill
In the sun baked clay of Indian lands
There, in the desolate fields
Sussana Little
Sussana Little
Gone 'fore I ever arrived
Questions that stream through my own creek blood
Songs that'a keep you alive
Mysterious crimes, oh they swept through the county
Waving the finger of blame
Eyes turned to Joe Little
A couple too many acres of land to his name
No one would have heard the lone shot in the night
They never posted his bail
Big Joey Little, never walked out
Of Sheriff Stanton's jail
Sussana Little
Sussana Little
Gone 'fore I ever arrived
Questions that stream through my own Creek blood
The odyssey of your life
For all of the lives you had lived this far
No part of you could have known
The evil hearts of the men who would fetch ya
One night by the side of the road
The moon, it grew dark and the frost would form
Before ya finally were found
Chained to a log in a torn white dress
Shakin' wild eyed on the ground
Sussana Little
Sussana Little
Gone 'fore I ever arrived
Questions that stream through my own creek blood
Such were the trials of your life...
Yet in the years to come, you took a man
Raised five of your own
And for a spell it was as almost as though
The light of justice had shown
The hand that had written this part but for you
And made it all plenty hard
Gave you a gusher, a well spring of oil
There in your own back yard
So pile them kids in the plush back seat
Ridin' shotgun in the Packard to town
With your man, Tom Fisher, one hand on the wheel
The other on your knee now
Sussana Little
Sussana Little
Gone 'fore I ever arrived
Questions that stream through my own Creek blood
The odyssey of your life
Sussana Little
Sussana Little
Sussana Little
Sussana Little
Wish I Knew
Ain't nobody there to step on the brakes
Lit up like Tijuana city carnival lights
Mmm, why somebody better pull up the shades
Hey, hey, hey, second time ya had to kiss her goodnight
Outside the motorcycle devils
Rev for the cruise
Mmm, Buddha's in the alley, working the Rue
Ping, ping-a-rain a comin' down the edge of the roof
Thinkin' I'd be a little mystified to
Wish I knew
Wish I knew
Drop another silver plug for the damned
Don't forget to make it a wish
Mmm, Yellow thunder bolt a' Shazzam
Isn't very likely to miss
Shutters on the winda' beatin' like wings
Smoke a' backin' up & up in the flu
Hounds are in the gutter startin' to sing
Thinkin' I'd be a little mystified too
Wish I knew
Wish I knew
Wish I knew
Li Di Di da da da da da da Di Di Di Di ...
Sooner or later gotta' live in your skin
Sleepin' in the very bed that you make
Some walking dead behind the Wayfarer lenses
Hangin' by the skin your teeth
Motorcycle devils
Rev for the cruise
Soldiers in the alley working the rue
Little bitty pretty one
What's got into you
Thinkin' I'd be a little mystified too
Wish I knew
Wish I knew
Wish I knew
Li Di Di da da da da da da Di Di Di Di ...
Wish I knew
Wish I knew
Better than ta do as I please
Better than ta skin my knees
Better than a fallin' for
Wish I knew
Wish I knew
Wish I knew
Li Di Di da da da da da da Di Di Di Di ...
Li Di Di da da da da da da Di Di Di Di ...
Li Di Di da da da da da da Di Di Di Di ...
Li Di Di da da da da da da Di Di Di Di ...
Hickory Wind
Words and Music by Gram Parsons and Bob Buchanon
In South Carolina there are many tall pines
I remember the oak tree that we used to climb
But now when I'm lonesome, I always pretend
That I'm getting the feel of hickory wind
I started out younger at most everything
All the riches and pleasures, what else could life bring
But it makes me feel better each time it begins
Callin' me home, hickory wind
It's a hard way to find out that trouble is real
In a far away city, with a far away feel
But it makes me feel better each time it begins
Callin' me home, hickory wind
Keeps callin' me home, hickory wind
Keeps callin' me home, hickory wind
tour dates
Newsweek:
If Grant-Lee Phillips were 19, pouty and far more pedestrian, he would surely beat out John Mayer as this generation’s premiere singer-songwriter.
–
Lorainne Ali, February 23, 2004
Entertainment Weekly:
A-
Fragile, tender songs…[Phillips] has the rare gift of empathy.
– Marc Weingarten, February 27, 2004
Vanity Fair:
Grant-Lee Phillips’ Virginia Creeper is outstanding.
– February 2004
MOJO:
Effortless-sounding near genius…a folk-country album that gives and gives.
– James McNair, February 2004
USA Today:
…even at his most mellow and melancholy, this soulful balladeer has few rivals
among celebrated newcomers in pop’s singer/songwriter realm.
– Edna Gundersen, March 9, 2004
New York Times:
Grant-Lee Phillips harks back to the earnest ambitions and expansive
melodies of Bob Dylan and John Lennon, singing with the conviction that rock can still be heroic.
– Jon Pareles, March 5, 2004
NY Post:
…for music fans who kept up with the singer/songwriter, it's been a
delicious soulful pop journey ever since.
– Mary Huhn, March 5, 2004
The Village Voice:
…a versatile and prolific solo performer. His songs are strummy languid
affairs that showcase his penchants for history and heartbreak.
– Rosen, March 3-9, 2004
Variety:
It's stunning, in this day and age of albums that rarely have more than one
or two songs worth remembering, that Phillips has strung together so many
aces.
– Phil Gallo, February 25, 2004
Performing Songwriter:
Subtle, intelligent, literate…With Virginia Creeper,
he outdoes his former Grant Lee Buffalo work and even that of his formidable previous
solo release Mobilize.
– January/February 2004
The Dallas Morning News
Mr. Phillips is a master at all things slow and cryptic, and his quavering
tenor makes him one of the most dramatic balladeers in rock.
– Thor Christensen, February 26, 2004
The Boston Globe
Phillips is a lifer in this business…one is hard-pressed to hear [Virginia
Creeper] as a prototype for anything but the beautiful music that it is.
– Joan Anderman, February 29, 2004
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The Philadelphia Inquirer
Kindred musical spirits enhance the intimate vibe…on "Dirty Secret," Phillips
and backing vocalist Cindy Wasserman sound like similarly scarred souls finding
solace in the wisdom of heartbreak.
– Patrick Berkery, February 22, 2004
The Star Ledger
…on an equal footing with [Michael] Stipe…one of the more convincing
singer-songwriters of our time.
– Ben Horowitz, February 22, 2004
Time Out New York
Phillips has quietly grown into one of the finest in the business.
– Leah Greenblatt, February 26-March 4, 2004
No Depression
His best yet…Virginia Creeper demonstrates Phillips’ gift for simple,
indelible melodies better than anything since the early days of Grant Lee Buffalo.
– Allison Stewart, March/April 2004
Harp:
… the characters and situations, while still dreamy, are more lucid, even
vivid, on Virginia Creeper.
– Randy Harward, March 2004
Vintage Guitar:
Phillips’ atmospheric songs unite infectious melodies with
enough forward momentum and narrative direction to make them fresh and interesting.
– Steven Stone, March 2004
RollingStone.com:
. . .delicate songwriting, as well as uptempo fare like “Wish
I Knew,” a jazz shuffle that simmers almost to a Grant-Lee Buffalo-ish boil.
– Andrew Dansby, January 13, 2004
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