The Micah Blue Smaldone Interview
Tell me about growing up in Kennebunkport, ME and how you initially began connecting with music, more specifically the guitar. Was this something that was relevant around your household growing up, or did you find this entirely on your own?
Well, Kennebunkport was (still is?) a wealthy tourist trap, playground of the Bush dynasty, a conservative small town... naturally, I was very much an outsider growing up there and, like many, came to music through skateboarding, and at a very young age. I can still see vividly the array of icons on the Sessions Skates ads in Thrasher magazine... by the late 80s I’d discovered the Ramones, Misfits, Devo, DK through that... and there was no turning back. I bought an old Japanese guitar and amp, my dad showed me a few chords, and then I started goofing around with the few friends I had... we went on to become The Pinkerton Thugs.
Who were some of your earliest influences, and when did you realize you wanted to pursue a life and career in music? Launching your solo career nearly two decades ago, tell me about writing and recording some of those early works, such as “Some Sweet Day”, “Hither and Thither” and the highly regarded “The Red River”.
Aside from punk, I always loved Bruce Springsteen and Woody Guthrie, and they were a big part of my songwriting even back then. There was a band from NJ called Those Unknown, who probably had the biggest impact of all. They were a left wing Oi! Band, with these amazingly steadfast lyrics and melodies, who really helped me see the importance of song within the struggle. As for life in music, I just never thought otherwise. I was swept up in the momentum of this huge mid 90s punk scene here in the Northeast, but more often as a dude on stage rather than as a member of the audience. Passions pulled me in all kinds of directions. At 19, I went off on tour with a rockabilly band and never thought about doing anything else but playing music. As I think about this now, I can see a pattern where, instead of facing the big turning points of life head-on, I’ve gone burrowing into the past with some feverish obsession... that was certainly the case with rockabilly, and it lasted a few years. Then back to punk and hardcore, and then, in my mid 20s, I crashed emotionally and retreated into the world of prewar music. I had a couple of older friends who lived in NYC during the 60s folk revival, and saw John Hurt, Skip James, etc.
They introduced me to all of this, and I began playing guitar with my fingers. I started busking, using a National guitar, and singing really nasally, both to sound like a 78rpm and to project over the street traffic. Around that time, I was introduced to the folks in Cerberus Shoal (and their community) through a mutual friend. We became immediately inseparable, and I moved into their big old house in 2003. Although we were making completely different music, they embraced and fostered what I was doing like a family would. It was a really joyous time. Without their support I’m not sure “Some Sweet Day” would have happened. And those people have been there every step of the way since. With the subsequent albums, I slowly let go of the 1920s persona, and focused more on songwriting. Though I felt more like an outlier to the American Primitive and British Folk thing that everyone seemed to be grooving on, I did love Richard Thompson and by the time “The Red River” and “The Ring of the Rise” were made, I was back to a full band type thing hinting at that style. I absolutely loved traveling and performing – and was able to do so much of it thanks to those records. I feel very indebted to those who advocated for me – Cerberus Shoal, Death Vessel, Jack and Glenn...
You participated in a cosmic collective that I don’t think is celebrated enough these days, Fire on Fire. How did you initially meet the Big Blood folks as well as a relocation to Portland, Maine? Tell me about writing and recording the group’s monumental debut, “The Orchard”, on Gira’s legendary imprint, Young God Records, back in 2008?
As Cerberus Shoal dissolved, those who remained in the house started playing together and bringing songs to the table in a very organic way, and we made a few recordings like Fire on Fire. I think it was a welcome change to Cerberus’ relentless, all-encompassing approach to making music. I’m not sure how the Young God thing came about, but it was cool – he’s a very interesting fellow.
Jumping ahead a bit, I understand you own and operate your own business in Maine, called Arkham Sound. What initially inspired you to open your own vintage restoration shop for amplifiers and custom-builds? Are you currently on any new projects as far as records, or playing out? Is there anything else you would like to share further with the readers?
Well, a lifetime of tinkering with old shit... but it was actually during the recording of “The Ring of The Rise”, I was having trouble getting a good bass sound and building my first thing from scratch – a Tube Preamp for direct recording. It sounded so nice, I made a few and sold them online... 12 years later they are still my bread and butter. I am very fortunate to scrape by doing something I enjoy that I believe to be good work. A couple of years ago, I started a band here with two ace musicians, called Wake in Fright. It’s a punk-power-trio type of thing, but I’d like to think that it touches on everything I’ve done, in a way... just like traveling, music can lead you all over the place. With any luck, you make it back home with all your experiences... and at this stage of my life, it feels like home. We did an LP with Feeding Tube last year, and have recently self released a 7”. We are playing out as much as we can give the state of things, and having a great time. It also allowed me to reconnect with people from my youth, many of whom continue to make great new music. Thanks for reading, go put on a record!