An interview with Spring, who will play with his band The Post Modern
Conveniences in Bend on Wednesday (see “If You Go”), clocks in at right
around a laugh a minute. He’s a funny guy, even when he’s taking a
break from painting a house to make a few extra bucks.
“Let me get down from this ladder real quick,” he says after he answers
the phone. “I’ve got to be careful. I don’t have health insurance.”
Spring lived in Seattle for 10 years before moving to Portland about a
year ago. He grew up in Flagstaff, Ariz., where he started playing
music in high school. Ask him how he started playing guitar and he deflects
the question with typical self-deprecation.
“I’m not a guitar player. I’m a guitar owner.”
But one spin through the songs at myspace.com/colinspring reveals that
Spring is just being modest. His songs are an infectious blend of 1960s
folk and 1970s pop, with a heavy dose of his wit and wordsmithery.
Spring came to the Northwest in 1994 because he “couldn’t think of any
other place to move.” He became a small fish in a big pond after
spending a few years being a medium-size fish in the smaller pond of
Flagstaff.
“I was pretty bad, which was all right because there wasn’t a lot going
on,” he said. “There didn’t seem like there were high standards, so you
could be pretty bad and still get gigs.”
Gigging in Seattle wasn’t easy, but Spring did get better as a player
and a writer, he said. He cut three albums for a friend’s record label,
Home Recorded Culture, before self-releasing “How I Came To Cry These
Tears Of Cool” earlier this year.
The album has a bevy of guest musicians on it, including Seattle
luminaries such as Screaming Trees drummer Mark Pickerel, Young Fresh Fellows
bassist Jim Sangster, and Carla Torgerson, vocalist and guitarist in
The Walkabouts. The album got a 3-1/2 star rating from the excellent
music magazine Paste, and The Oregonian said “Tears Of Cool” has “the kind
of tunes that make other songwriters look as if they’ve acquired the
language by mistake.”
The songs on the album have a warm, vintage sheen, which hangs over
Spring’s clever, sometimes political lyrics. It’s a record that sounds
like it was made three decades too late - not surprising given the
songwriter’s influences.
“I like that 1970s Southern California kind of Jackson Browne-y thing,”
he said. “I like Warren Zevon, that kind of stuff. John Prine. I like
that folk rock kind of thing.”
Since moving to Portland, Spring has been focusing on music full time;
he calls it “self-unemployment.” He’s working on his fifth album now,
and is trying to bring more of his jovial personality into the songs, he
said.
“I’ve always kind of been a funny guy, but … I go to these folk
festivals and there’s a really great singer and there’s a really great
guitar player, better than I’ll ever be in my life,” he said. “My strength
is my lyrics and my wit, so I’ve kind of figured out a way to instill a
lot more humor in the songs I’ve been doing.”
Spring said he enjoys looking out at a crowd that is laughing (in a
good way) at one of his lyrics. At the same time, he’s wary of becoming a
novelty act. One of his newest songs, “Good Looking Man,” has quickly
turned into a staple of his live act, and now people are yelling for it
throughout his set.
That makes him a little nervous. But not too nervous to make a joke
about it.
“That’s what everybody wants to hear. I’m kind of seeing what it’s like
to be (1980s one-hit wonder) Kajagoogoo. It obscures all the other
songs,” he said. “I love John Prine because he’s able to do the funny thing
and the melancholy thing. He’s able to transfer back and forth pretty
seamlessly, and I think that’s the eventual goal. I like being able to
do both.”
Spring says he’d like to talk to me all day, because it means he would
get to put off painting the house that looms over him. He says he’s
“kind of lazy,” but he also seems to be a guy who is content with his
place in life and in the world of music.
“I feel like I’m at a good level to be at. I scrape by, but it’s pretty
adventurous. I’m always in a different situation,” he said. “If you’re
in a mid-level band you play mid-level clubs across the country to the
same type of crowd. I’ll play a farmer’s market, a coffee house. Dive
bars. I play as much as I can and wherever. I like the whole adventure
of it.”

By Ben Salmon

By Kim Nowacki
Yakima Herald-Republic

This weekend’s Yakima Folklife Festival marks the one-year anniversary
of singer/songwriter Colin Spring ’s relationship with Yakima. He’s
been back several times since last year’s festival, has several sets
scheduled for this weekend, and will be back again next month for two
concerts.

Wild-haired and wickedly funny, Spring writes modern folk-rock music
that’s gritty, real and romantic, but also bright and humorous at times.
It’s poetic urban storytelling reminiscent of Dylan, Springsteen and
Steve Forbert.

“I always wanted to play punk-rock in the ’70s stylings,” says Spring
who cites John Prine, Warren Zevon, Jackson Browne, Social Distortion
and Suicidal Tendencies among his influences. “It’s always been my goal.”

His first album came out in 1998, the second during his “tortured
years” — “it’s kind of tough for me to listen to that album,” he says.

On the third, “Cancion de Pollo,” and his latest album, “How I Came to
Cry These Tears of Cool” — which features the drumming talents of
Ellensburg-bred Mark Pickerel plus a number of top-notch musicians —
Spring tells four-minute epics, elaborate stories you have to hear again
and again to truly understand the complexity of his songwriting.

“Sometimes when you say folk, people think you sing about chocolate and
cats,” he says with a smirk.

For Spring’s songs, he draws from fact and fiction, from his own life
and the stories of others heard four times removed.

He explains all this on the back cover of “Tears of Cool,” where he
lays bare his own turbulent past — as unbelievable as it is in parts.

He writes in tiny type of suburban hipster parents, broken homes,
Federales with machine guns, odd jobs, odder living arrangements, love and
loss, the results of circumstance and rolling with the punches.

When Spring, who now calls Portland home, makes his way back to town,
he’ll be accompanied by his band, the Post Modern Conveniences. Members
include Billy “Lonesome Dewey” Miller on upright bass and drums and
“What the Hell” Denell Fahy on accordion.

With titles like “Joe McCarthy Is Sweeping Off His Grave, you might expect to find lyrics of a political nature on Colin Spring’s latest release. And though you would not be wrong you may bve surprised by the depth of feeling and the range of emotion that are also present, chugging along aton a rolling Wurlitzer oregan and and solid blues rock beat.

“What is all this free speech for when we can’t use it anymore/It’s the red scare with a veil across its face…they’re still blacklisting all the tongues that misbehave”, sings Spring in his husky, born to rock voice-not quite Dylan, not quite Springsteen, just absolutely real. “Does She Still” takes a quick trip throught past loves; “Lover, There’s A Light On” has the feel of an Italian ballad with plaintive mandolin, while the poetic imagery of “November” will take your breath away. Check it out, you won’t be sorry.

3 1/2 Stars!

Sensitive singer/songwriter for the leather jacket crowd

Itinerant singer/songwriter Colin Spring may strum an acoustic guitar and sing songs of social consciousness but he’s not about to ditch his leather jacket. His raucous punk aesthetic and rock and roll heart drive these songs beyond sentiment, adding a fierce, defiant edge to even the most plaintive confession. Album opener “Joe McCarthy Is Sweeping Off His Grave” rips along with a rollicking Blonde On Blonde guitar/organ carnival lope and topical song rage, but tracks like “Does She Still?” and “November” best represent Spring’s street-tough purple heart. Here, he recalls the pensive, acoustic side of Peter Laughner (rocket from the Tombs, Pere Ubu) with songs of Dionysian indulgence and pining nostalgia. Spring is joined by an able cast of Norhwestern indie rock underdogs. Most notably The Walkabouts’ Carl Torgerson, who harmonizes without sweetness during the rugged doom of “Lover, There’s A Light On”. Rob O’Conner

COLIN SPRING- HOW I CAME TO CRY THESE TEARS OF COOL- HOME RECORDED CULTURE- This is Spring’s 4th record but the first one I’ve heard and from the liner notes on the back of the cd he sounds like he’s had a helluva life (hippy parents who moved around A LOT and briefly were involved in crime ) and his songwriting is only stronger for it. Having a who’s who of Seattle musicians helping him out doesn’t hurt either (and a producer the caliber of Johnny Sangster.) with Screaming Trees Mark Pickeral and Walkabout’s Carla Torgerson in the mix. The guy, not unlike a Bob Dylan, is a great storyteller and tunes like the opener “Joe McCarthy is Sweeping off His Grave” or the dramatic “Chinatown” (plus “Fresh Kill in Nowhereville”) prove the guy is a winning talent . Still ,as good as this record is, something tells me that Spring’s real strength is in his live show and now that he’s living in Portland I will be checking the gig listings with bated breath

Review by John D. Luerssen
Balancing folk-rock intelligence and indie rock swagger, Colin Spring blossoms on his fourth album, How I Came to Cry These Tears of Cool. A young master of heartfelt story-songs in the tradition of vintage Bruce Springsteen and Bob Dylan — a notion supported by titles like “Fresh Kill in Nowhereville” — Spring has a knack for tales of cross-dressers and drug deals gone awry. Produced by Seattle boardsman Johnny Sangster and augmented by the likes of Mark Pickerel (of Screaming Trees) and Jim Sangster (of Young Fresh Fellows fame), How I Came to Cry These Tears of Cool sounds as inventive as the stories Spring tells. The power of “Joe McCarthy Is Sweeping Off His Grave” gives the disc wings, but songs of immigrant struggle (”Chinatown”) and desolation (”November”) are where this rising talent from Washington state soars.

allmusic.com

The Oregonion
Organic, lyrically rich folk-rock
songs are Colin Spring’s hallmark, the kind of tunes
that make other songwriters look as if they’ve
acquired language by mistake-Nathan Skidmore

The Big Takeover
Counting his excellent 2004 LP with The Band That Murdered Silence, Cancion del Pollo, this is Spring’s fourth LP. And despite the absence of those band members on this album (with the exception of backing vocalist Melinda Friedman on three tracks), this one is even better than his last. The arrangements are more varied and inviting, and Spring’s co-production (with Johnny Sangster, who also contributes musically) is warmer and more full-bodied. But as before, it’s Spring’s exceptional storytelling skills and captivating lyrics that keep the listener enthralled. Perhaps his arduous childhood experiences traveling throughout the U.S. (detailed on the CD’s back sleeve) contribute to his ability to create such vivid, emotional narratives. Whether describing thrilling yarns about daring prison breaks or failed drug-running attempts (”Chinatown”, “Culiacan”), reminiscing about old lovers or friends (”Does She Still?”, the beautiful standout “November”), or editorializing on our nation¢®s decline of free speech rights and civil liberties (”Joe McCarthy is Sweeping Off His Grave”), Spring’s campfire tales never fail to leave one contented.

Reviews for Colin Spring and The Band That Murdered Silence “Cancion del Pollo”

The Big Takeover-June 2005

Prior to forming this four piece in 2000, Seattle based Spring had recorded two solo albums (1998’s Dashboard Tallies, Pedestrian Kills and 2000’s Meet The Sea….Or Be Washed Up). The band’s alt-country sound brings to mind an amalgan of Wilco, The Byrds, Bruce Springsteen, Miracle Legion, and even The Feelies, with Spring’s acoustic guitar interacting naturally with Michael Hallett’s electric, coaxed along by Fran Hapke’s brisk drum fills. But despite the relatively similiar song structures, it’s Spring’s enormously insightful, heartfealt lyrics, which he sings in a narrative, Dylan-like vocal style, that constantly keep the listener absorbed. ”A Jukebox To Put My Dimes In” and “Clean Out The Boxes, Ma” (which feature Melinda Friedman’s attractive backing vocals) are both sincere and moving, while the more potent “Miles” builds to a rousing, emotion-drenched climax. With nary a weak moment, this excellent LP ranks among the most pleasant surprises of the year. -Mark Suppanz

…other recent reviews …..

Left Off The Dial -March 31-05

Cancion del Pollo means Song of the Chicken, and is certainly not the most romantic of album titles. But as singer/songwriter/leader of The Band That Murdered Silence Colin Spring explains with a poem in his liner notes, he’s not actually writing about poultry. The “chicken” is the common man, the working class – and its song “stutters and starts like a factory belt full of chicken parts.” If Spring didn’t sing the Song of the Chicken, he asks, “who than [sic] shall it be?” Luckily, Spring is a lover of everyday people and their forgotten stories, and he tells 13 of them on Cancion…

Spring’s own story is biography-worthy, as proven in the mini one he scripted on his web site. He tells the tale of his “disenfranchised bookworm” mother, who reared Spring on her own after his father died in a car accident and her second husband served time for dealing dope. As a child, he was embarrassed of his low-income housing and craved summers, when he would visit his wealthy grandparents on the East Coast. However, in retrospect Spring notes, “I can see why that life drove my mother out west and why I would not trade any of those boring comforts for the teepee or the Goodwill’s or the random hodge podge of drinking mugs in the kitchen cabinets.”

The tales he tells are no less humble and just as interesting. Putting the Spring in Springsteen, Colin knows how to wordsmith predictable short stories into dazzling folk epics. Opening track “Come Back, Baby Jean” is the umpteenth recounting of two jaded kids that run away from home to seek their fortune – but Spring’s couple are “Poorly skilled and richly reckless, they drove off into the sunset/A scripted cliché of the young and feckless on a quest to where the Coke runs bottomless.” In “Sweet Repose,” a typical summer evening is turned into a torture chamber, from which a “sweat-soaked dying moon wants so bad to be a survivor.” There are tinges of Tom Petty in Spring’s many moments of low-class desperation, and the dozens of ideas stuffed into each line call Elvis Costello to mind.

Like Costello, Spring’s music is built for the lyrics. The folk-rock sound is unfinished and raw, complementing his understated style; Pay attention, Spring’s down-home poetry cannot be denied, making this Cancion enjoyable for all but the most pretentious listeners.

Americana Uk

Cancion Del Pollo” (Independent 2004) Remember cow-punk and all those breakneck bone-shaking anthems where everything was speeded up and the songs always threatened to get away, like a child holding on too tightly to a squirming cat? The vocals slightly gruff, getting used to not shouting, the melodies almost obscured but shining through as they do on ‘Come On Down (To My End of the Dial)’ brings back all those memories of God’s Favourite Band, Coffin Break and the like. Then they can slow things right down too - ‘Sweet Repose’ has a lovely few moments of calm where the accordion adds pastoral whimsy to these sand in the carburettor sounds. Fun in a slightly scuffed version of Pete Krebs way.

While this band would surely fall nicely into an alternative rock category, they have their feet firmly planted in old school song writers like Dylan, ’70’s country tinged sounds like those created by The Eagles and folk and country and even punk traditions. The result is a very genuine and evocative mix that is quite entertaining.-Music Street Journal -2005

………Some reviews for “Meet the Sea….Or Be Washed Up” and “Dashboard Tallies, Pedestrian Kills”

Meet the Sea… or Be Washed Up, a dozen devastating, complex, authoritative sea shanties of urban disconsolation…the best club show I’ve seen since Modest Mouse’s incendiary hometown gigs at the Crocodile two years ago….The rare occasions when a band plays a perfect set (whatever that may mean: some force, a synchronicity between the songs) are an amazing experience. One feels incredibly lucky to have witnessed a special thing developing…Meet the Sea… or Be Washed Up is quite simply the best local record since Modest Mouse’s second album. The record that begins with “Santa Domingo” is going to be better than best; it will be a classic - The Stranger live review

Meet the Sea… or Be Washed Up (Home Recorded Culture) ****

Ten songs of ominous prophecy and psychological squalor; the title track sounds sort of like an acoustic Nick Cave, minus the theatrics. The quotes from Thomas Mann, Joseph Conrad, and Thomas Pynchon in the liner notes are unnecessary but confirm what the first listen to this record leads one to suspect: an orientation that is literary in the best sense — that is, serious and unpretentious. None of these songs are less than honest, bitter, and heartfelt. With a more pop sensibility, this record would bear considerable resemblance to Elvis Costello’s King of America.

But Spring is happy to substitute depth and sweep for hooks and wit. How long has it been since somebody made a record that erred, if at all, on the side of intelligence, and yet wasn’t “math rock”? Not many singer-songwriters understand the acoustic guitar’s potential to lead a line of narrative into a recitation of mystical dimensions. Colin Spring does — to put it mildly. “Disappearing Act” and the elegies “The Old Javelina” and “Let Me Die in the Summertime” shift seamlessly from the personal (”And I got so lonely last night/I sat out in your car/Imagined you were driving me through time”) to the political: “Let me tell you ’bout the West Coast/East came and they bulldozed/And they threw up some landmarks on the sides of the roads/When they forgot about those… And they orphaned their histories/And they left strips like these/ Where a man and a woman can come/And start all over again” (from “Aurora Blvd.”). These songs come straight out of the current chaos of infrastructural and moral sprawl; Rohypnol rapists, motel TV-junkies, deadbeat dads, and minimum-wage workers stealing wine from their employers are not used as color (nor are they seen from a standard “literary” distance), but together endure a senseless civilization where the singer clings to memory and history in order to survive.

Just as often, Spring weaves metaphoric imagery into emotional portraits that never resort to cliché or empty rhetoric. His phrasing is reminiscent of the late Townes Van Zandt, but without that artist’s crippling unevenness. Every song counts on this one, and with it, Spring lands in the company of the most important talents this town has produced in recent years. The Stranger - album review

Dashboard Tallies, Pedestrian Kills is a beautifully poetic record full of whispered lyrics, biting rhymes and bitter sweet songs. Insite Magazine

In this age of co modified rebellion it’s easy to forget the underground soldiers on with thoughtful battle-scarred singers like Colin Spring. Larry Rosen Seattle Weekly