The Cameron Knowler Interview
An Arizona-based multi-instrumentalist, recording artist, educator, and all-around student of sonic soundscapes, Cameron Knowler grew up in a rather isolated environment in the Midwest, eventually leading to the musician’s ecstatic entry into the wide world of sound, tonal theory, harmonious history, and constant contemplation on the ideology of instrumentation. With the highly anticipated self-titled album “CRK” set for release in April on Worried Songs, Knowler transcends time and space by combining the past with a contemporary cosmicism that radiates a revolutionary realm in music culture like that of the greats before him.
Tell me about growing up in Yuma, AZ, and how you initially got into music. Was this relevant to your household, and who were some of your earliest influences during your formative years? When did you first begin to connect to the guitar, and how quickly did the gap from learning to play to wanting to perform/record music happen for you?
I grew up in Yuma, AZ, extremely isolated. I lived in a retirement community called the Fortuna Foothills, right at the base of the Gila Mountain Range. At least when I lived there, the majority of folks who had houses or trailers or double-wide around us were called “snowbirds”; these are people who live somewhere like Idaho, Minnesota, or Alberta for most of the year, then come to Yuma in the winter to escape freezing temperatures. So, in that way, I didn’t grow up with anyone my age other than my brother, nor did I have anybody to play music with. However, I started taking lessons around age six and had a great teacher, Aaron Hultstrand, who allowed me to explore whichever music forms I liked. At the time, I listened to Guns N’ Roses and not much else. It wasn’t until I discovered bluegrass and traditional string band music at fifteen that I found a singular course to stick with, and my guiding light was Norman Blake. Honestly, I never envisioned myself performing music live somehow—instead, I always saw myself making studio albums, playing other peoples’ records, teaching, writing, and thinking about guitar. I still feel that way. I played my first professional gig in Houston, TX, at a rather late age (21), and from there, I started getting calls to play with folk singers, bluegrass bands, and electric honky-tonk groups, and before I knew it, I was occupying space on stage.
Before releasing music under your name, did you participate in any groups or projects? Channeling multiple tonal textures, historical harmonies, and lavish landscapes via the acoustic guitar, what would you say ultimately inspires you to embrace the rich culture and vastness of instrumental guitar music?
Before I released my solo music, I played in pick-up bands across Texas. I had a project called The Fossil Lickers, where we played fiddle tunes in a rather rough style, using various banjo and guitar techniques to support the whole sound; this drew from the tradition of solo guitar just as much as it did from string band music. Honestly, nowadays, I connect more with the guitar as a platform rather than the traditions of solo guitar music. After moving past fiddle-driven music, I realized I wanted to connect those traditions to a broader American narrative, doing my best to create little universes in my records. I only started playing fingerstyle a few years ago, which makes up for most of the tracks on this album. That still surprises me since I had been playing with a pick exclusively for so long. At this stage, I’m fascinated by what the guitar can achieve as this lap piano with endless possibilities for arrangement and voicing, supporting many perspectives. For me, creating a narrative is just as visual as it is sonic, which is why there's a strong emphasis on photography in the packaging and accompanying song folio.
I want to jump ahead to your most recent album entitled “CRK,” which is set for release in early April on Worried Songs. What was the overall writing and recording process like for this album, and how did you initially approach this material compared to previous works?
Looking back on the writing, tracking, and recording of “CRK,” it doesn’t look like the ways I typically work at a quick pace, writing songs that facilitate needs. For example: “I need a song that is in the key of D with this sort of tempo, this sort of pulse, maybe it has drums.” For this record, I would obsess over a certain collection of songs, develop them, record them, and be so sure that those were the final versions, but then six months later, they’d turn out to be demos six times removed from the final result. I didn’t know exactly how I wanted to build or assemble this collection of songs when writing them. Something within me said, “I needed to lay low to construct what I wanted.” All in all, this record took me three and a half years to make, and the tracking was done in Los Angeles and Nashville before, during, and after my move from the former to the latter.
“For me, creating a narrative is just as visual as it is sonic, which is why there’s a strong emphasis on photography in the packaging and accompanying song folio.”
I understand you worked alongside several talented musicians like Dylan Day, Jay Bellerose, Harrison Whitford, and Rayna Gellert. What was most important to you to achieve and ultimately express with this body of work? Is there anything else you would like to share further with the readers?
I’m deeply honored to have worked with many top-tier musicians on this record. Even though these songs come from the perspective of someone who primarily plays solo music, I wanted to challenge myself to arrange them in a way that was more eternal and connecting to music at large—than the canon of guitar soli prescribes. Many “guitar” compositions work in a self-contained manner, where the rhythm and melody are thoroughly supported by an alternating bass, often with lush, open tunings filling out the upper voices. To push past this, I had to assemble the most sensitive, deep, and holistic musicians I could find. Gathering these folks under one roof is perhaps my favorite aspect of “CRK.”
