We are delighted to announce our next featured artist for Chats with the Cats is guitarist Richard Julian.
Born to a military family near Bergstrom military base in Austin Texas, Richard's natural affinity for music came from his mother's love for music.
"She always had music playing in the car and the house - she’s from the south and loved bluegrass. My dad wasn’t musical but very supportive (less so as a career more so a pastime).
My grandfather Floyd was a little guitar player - I named my son after him. I thought I would play music from an early age - before I even realized - I went from wanting to be a paleontologist at 6 and then musician shortly afterwards.
We were lower middle class and were concerned about where the money would come from. Delaware wasn’t a hot bed of artistic activity and commerce. I was ambitious and determined and in retrospect pretty inflated of my views of my talent. I've always felt that my music and my career would have progressed quicker if I had a more humble outlook as a man (not that I have any regrets)."
"There was some arrogance on my part and this turned some people off. Furthermore in terms of the music itself it requires humility to make this sort of music and do it well. It took a long time for me to get a handle on what was happening in New York - to understand the rules of a big metropolis like this."
"Over time - in the 90s I lost a record deal, I got close to big opportunities that didn’t pan out. Honestly, I ended up having some good breaks after I toned down my expectations - good things happened. When I toured with Nora Jones, I played with a lot of great people through my association with her. It felt like it answered a lot of questions for me as I had felt like I was swimming in the dark. Getting to work with these people was a wonderful thing to happen on a spiritual level."
"The idea was to get to California out of high school - I ended up in Las Vegas as my father was into antiques. A woman he dealt with had a son who was a drummer and he put me up. I was 18 playing keyboards and I did well. It's ironic but I made more as a musician in my first year in Vegas then I did in the subsequent 10 years in New York working different jobs. It wasn’t as soul fulfilling in Vegas and I immediately felt at home in NYC. The scene was really set up - I was digging being away from home and thus I never found those long nights and long hours to be grueling - but most musicians definitely would. They were tough hours but made great money. I played ski resorts in Colorado, graveyard shifts - you name it."
The difference in cost of living was evident from the moment Richard arrived in NYC.
"I realized when I moved to NYC that I was unable to afford a car. Lugging around keyboards in the 80s was tough (substantial) I sold them which I kinda regret (the kind of stuff you would have heard on Prince's records) and I started focusing on guitar as I was lazy. At 19 this change happened but I was always writing songs since I was about 7."
"When I graduated high school I had about 50 songs (which I still have but I have to burn it before I die). I literally have every piece of paper and cocktail napkin of everything I've ever written. I find it informative and useful whenever I do look it up, It reminds me how painstaking it is to get it right. Some of the songs I wrote after high school have 40/50 drafts. It's amazing how they evolve."
Richard is known for his incredible song writing ability and speaks of his process.
"I'll start a song that I wrote this year, I just recorded it with Jeremy Gustin, It came out well - I have the rough drafts next to my desk and when I look back at them, I'm very shocked that I saw anything in them. But it's weird, there’s something really mystical or invisible that tells you this is worth following. My songs evolve out of these ideas - the initial ideas are generally puny compared to the finished article. I know Willie Nelson talks about the initial idea - I have to climb through bullshit to find the end product or idea. Find something that feels penetrating. I wonder sometimes if it's a lifestyle thing - Townes Van Zandt worked really steadily on his songs. He wrote every morning and it wouldn’t matter how hard the night before was, he would get up at 7 and work until 10. I watched this process in person and the rest of the day he would put all that aside and not be scribbling. I felt he was living in a way to gain life wisdom and to translate that into songs. It was more like character acting. For someone like me who runs a club, has accepted some of the bourgeoisie dream of owning a business which is antithetic to being an artist - it takes longer for me to reach the core of something penetrating or spiritual as I'm not living in that fragile existence."
"I think there are infinite ways to write a song. I got to know Randy Newman. I did an interview with him and he loves to talk about song writing, he loves the process. He’s almost like a kid when it comes to it. We were talking about the concept of confessional songwriting like Paul Simon or Joni Mitchell. I'm probably there too. Randy said that what he does is assuming characters and writes from their point of view. In some ways it's more revealing of him than confessional song writers. It's this emotional thing that can come out once speaking to a certain moment. Sometimes I’m embarrassed by my own work - it's so personal. If that emotion or feeling isn’t permanent I can be embarrassed to perform a song if I don’t feel that way anymore. But even the "lying in bed" style stuff - they happen because I’ve had a recurring feeling, emotion or fantasy. So by the time I go and write this song it's because it's the way I've felt this one moment recurring so many times. I wouldn’t feel this way so often if it wasn’t meant to be represented."
"You want to be current and reactive but that’s not how I operate. I'm too relativist for better or for worse. I can’t look at anything and see something and say that’s wrong, this is black and white - my brain doesn’t work that way."
"Here and there I'll get a whole song that it almost feels like the whole thing happens at the same time - when that happens you feel incredible. I wrote a whole song standing in line at the post office. But most of my songs are scraps - in my apartment I love to collect little antiques, artisan stuff - my songs are like that . I have tonnes of melodies lying around, books and books of songs, lines, feelings, diaries. Honesty, very little sees the light of day but every so often something penetrates. I've been watching Steven Bernstein doing the pandemic brass band - I'm working on something on the piano that would sound cool with that. I see a style that I can put on it. The emotion you’re feeling whilst doing it feels so important that you feel you have to complete it. Sometimes it's just wordplay - it's clever and fun and I want to include that."
The city we will see once the pandemic is over could be drastically different, Richard doesnt see it that way.
"I doubt that feelings will change with regard to NYC. Every generation sees big changes. Many things are drastically altered. I'm less charmed by the gestalt of the city - I am charmed by the creativity. I'm here 34 years so I don’t get smacked in the face by the skyline. It used to be more open and daring - In the 80's nobody would bust you for a joint, the rooms were filled with cigarette smoke. It was more renegade back in the 90's. It may still feel like that for a 19 year old moving here now but I don’t connect to it that way anymore. Now I run my business, I love promoting musicians and love the energy that’s created here, the huge rolodex of visual, musical art. It's always amazing.
As mentioned, Richard runs Bar Lunatico, a restaurant/bar in Bed Stuy that runs live music.
"KU! was enormously helpful - more than they even realize. They gave us leeway about how we could manage their funds and this really helped us get some great people to perform. It helped us define how we used our finances, set goals and achieve them. It's a tip jar gig which some people don’t think is right but it's a good paying gig, there’s no rush and they can play what they like. I'm very proud. We shut down before lots of others as one of our bartenders was exposed. We shut down Friday march 13, Moses Metro Man was scheduled to play - Kenny Wollasen (drummer with Bill Frisell) and William Shore were the last band to play. We always had a reopening in mind but some of it was scary - we didn’t know what would happen, how long it would last. There was no unemployment or assistance at the time. We are reopening now as people are vaccinated and can make educated decisions. We've had extensive work on our back patio but we’re not sure when we can have musicians back with the spacing etc. Hopefully soon.
So what is Richard listening to and how has life changed since the pandemic?
"I'm listening to a lot of Haitian music of a variety of artists. I listen to a lot of older stuff, a Brazilian jazz group called Zimbo trio, Stan Getz is on my turntable. Lim Yang and Wayne Tucker (did a set at grand army plaza all the way through the pandemic), Lau Noah at Lunatico."
"I found that part of the pandemic very interesting - scintillating on a human level. The bar manager I had had just bought this small place north of Albany. They were gonna renovate over 3 years., We all shut down, they started moving up there. I know people that did well, those that suffered and those that lost their lives. It was a big snow globe that got shaken and everything ended in a different spot. Most of the feedback I get is that people are ready to get back out there."
"Go out and hear live music. That’s how the really good stuff happens. Support the big and small clubs, check out a variety of artists."