I sincerely hope that The TrashCannon Album, released by Caitlin Cannon a few months back, kickstarts the recording career of an artist with the skillset to entertain, shock, amuse and sadden the unsuspecting listener in equal measures. On my initial listen to the album, I found it upbeat, kinda country, kinda bubblegum pop and lots of fun. Further listens unveiled some fairly heavy tales and observations hidden behind the cute melodies, often dealing with a range of thorny issues. The songs read like chapters from a personal diary, with the subject matters confronted head on and very often, laced with humour. I tracked down Caitlin to chat about the album and found the discussion to be every bit as frank and amusing as the record itself!
Firstly, many congratulations on your recent release The TrashCannon Album. It’s made quite an impression on us at Lonesome Highway.
Thank you, Lonesome Highway.
Where are you located at the moment and how are you dealing with the uncertainty that surrounds us all?
I’m in Durango, Colorado where I have a little salon. Normally I’d be splitting time between here and Nashville, but until things safely open up, I’m hiding out in the mountains trying to put songs and money in the bank.
What were your plans to promote the album before the pandemic took over our lives?
I was heartbroken to cancel a tour I’d made to accompany the release, and most excited about the 4 Corners Folks Festival in September in Pagosa in Colorado. I don’t know when I’ll get a chance to follow Lucinda Williams again, even if it is the Sunday early show after her Saturday evening headlining slot. Fingers circumvoluted for 2021.
Can you talk a bit about your early career path? I understand it led you to theatre rather than music. What changed that direction?
Questions like these are really helping me get to the bottom of all that. As a kid, I was kinda like the little actor girl in Once upon a time in Hollowood- over zealously devoted to the craft. I realise now that I couldn’t cope with everything happening then, so I’d anchor myself to those make-believe worlds and characters. And then later to boys, and then to booze, until no escape tactics would work anymore. It sounds dramatic but, I think having a theatre life saved me as a kid, in the same way having a songwriting practice did when I became able to reckon with parts of myself and my past. I didn’t think I would pursue a career in it at first, I was just trying to stay on the planet. Everyone has a ton of shit to deal with forever. I just have to make an art project out of mine to get myself to do the work. It’s like cardio – it’s more fun if you do it on ice skates.
Have you found helpful overlaps between the two?
I sure hope all of that training and technique helps make my performances better for my audiences. But then again, I was such a bad actress, that it’s probably better if I don’t try and make use of that education here. It was humbling to have invested so much into becoming something, then fail at it hard, and then just go and be really bad at this other thing, too. But now I think, if I ever get really really good, that will be why. I think if you’re a perfectionist, and I am, that your work will always be too neat and tidy, unless you’re willing to let yourself be really bad at it sometimes.
You initially started performing with your band in Brooklyn. Was there an active country or rockabilly music scene there at that time?
Not so much I was the least cool of all my friends, writing country songs about my New York experiences. I did eventually discover that I could find Justin Townes Earle playing at the 11th St. Station in the East Village. I met Julia Haltigan and Eleanor Whitmore of The Mastersons there, and played some house shows with them. I felt pretty cool after that.
Tim Randolph Edgar (who went on to produce Imagine Dragons) made a record out of a batch of my earliest songs. Turning my country-ish tunes over to an indie-pop producer was fun I never knew I could have. I was bartending at Teddy’s in Williamsburg, and gave a copy to the owners who gave me a Wednesday slot to get out from behind the bar and play music. Probably because I wasn’t a very good bartender either.
Kinda bitchy: *See Better Job (Track 11 on the album!)
Tell me about the all-girl band The Cannondolls that you then formed. Had you ambitions beyond playing live sets locally with that band?
Around the time I formed The Cannondolls, I’d left New York, and I was going to get married and cut hair and be normal. So, it began as a laid back and casual side project, but truthfully, I’m not very good at being laid back or casual. Once It became obvious everyone in the band had different goals, we parted ways. It was good to gain the support of the folks in the Four Corners New York during that time. I do wish we’d made some live acoustic recordings, so I could bury those harmonies in a time capsule.
There’s a lot of humour on The TrashCannon Album, even though it confronts some heavy yet everyday topics. Did you welcome the challenge to write the songs by way of dealing with those issues?
Sure, except … I think the issues come first, and the songs happen when living with the feelings becomes intolerable. Like, I know if I’m gonna write a song about something that really matters to me, that that process will require me to become honest about it, and that’s something I usually like to avoid, until the lack of clarity becomes more painful on the other side. So, it’s kind of a masochistic situation ... that’s also at least 5 per cent funny at all times.
Did you write all the songs with the album in mind or were some of them already in the can before you decided to record the album?
Megan Burtt (producer) and I sorted through a bunch of songs I’d written over the years, and decided there was enough there to make a cohesive record. We needed a few more rockers and wrote Toolbag, Mama’s a Hairdresser, Dumb Blonde and Pin Cushion together. I was making fun of my tendency to overshare when I joked it should be called “TrashCannon,” while Megs suggested the drummer play trash can lids instead of cymbals. And then all of that happened.
How did Megan Burtt, a talented musician and songwriter in her own right, come on board as producer?
I met Megan Burtt over a decade ago at the Rocky Mountain Folks Festival and fan-friended her automatically. Her song writing isn’t like anyone else I’ve ever heard, and her skill is something to be revered. Megan has so many incredible songs that she hasn’t recorded yet, because she’s been busy making records for everyone else. I can’t wait until her next release. I expect it will slay.
Did she have an input in the direction the songs should take?
Absolutely. I had pretty clear ideas about song directions, examples of styles and artists who I thought had executed a thing well, but Megan was able to pull those feels out of the band and capture them in the tracks. We communicated about these things telepathically, and that’s probably another reason the record doesn’t really sound like anything else.
And the use of humour and satire. Did that make the process less difficult by adding a sense of farce?
Growing up in Alabama; having my bro locked up when I was so little, I think I learned I had better chances of influencing people, if I could do so without alienating them. Maybe that’s manipulative and dishonest dressed up as diplomacy, but I do make some strong political statements in these songs, and I’d like even those who disagree with me to be in on the joke if they want. When I’ve called the record “satirical”, I’ve meant that literally. There’s a lot of humour, irony, exaggeration in the lyrics meant to expose a political injustice. It’s probably easier for me to make my point through humour than anger. But I am angry, of course. So, here’s a way we can all enjoy my anger.
Were you apprehensive of washing your dirty laundry in public?
I should get one of those machines people keep in a closet that washes it for you, instead of sorting it out in this interview.
The first track Going For The Bronze is some opening statement on the album, dealing with underachievement versus traditional expectations. What was the deciding factor in choosing it as the album’s opening track?
We thought we’d go ahead and lower everyone’s expectations for the remaining 11 tracks.
Mama’s A Hairdresser is both a killer title and an equally driving and grungy song. It also tells a tale of a lifetime of devotion by your mother dealing with the incarceration of your brother at a young age and the support she continues to provide for him. She seems like an extremely strong person. How did she feel about including her background on the album?
Whenever I introduce it as Mama’s A Hairdresser (Baby’s A Life Offender) people think it’s going to be a funny song. I guess the title was the only place I could hide a joke in in this one. I think it’s that same part of my Mom, that doesn’t abandon the fight for my brother after all these years, that continues to support me pursuing music, while I know it's been hard for her to watch me struggle. It was selfless of both of them to be my subjects.
Drink Enough visits and speaks honestly of alcohol dependency. It’s a widespread problem but particularly difficult for people working in the arts and the lifestyle and specific pressures that apply to that career. How have you found the writing process compare both sober and drinking?
Well, I’ll be the first to debunk the theory that you have to be f****d up to be creative. That’s just the drugs and alcohol talking. That said, I did write “Drink Enough” in a black out. But mostly, I was content to drink box wine and play candy crush and binge watch Real Housewives of Atlanta. For me, the hardest and best part of being sober, is that I can’t feel the intensity of my desire, and then I have to do something about it.
You’re not holding back on the powerful Dumb Blonde. Had you particular individuals in mind when writing it?
I was thinking of myself, mostly. But, these characters (and caricatures) I’ve idolized, in classic country and Hollywood, share a common trait in how they’ve used wit (among other assets) to outsmart the rival. So, having been made to feel stupid in the past, or good for one thing, “Playing Dumb’s the Smartest Thing a Blonde Can Do,” pays homage to that long-time struggle, but also the embraces it. It’s like- If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em... and then beat ‘em.
You’ve managed to tick most every box musically on the album. Classic country, Countrypolitan, Rockabilly and even good old Alt-Country all raise their heads. Are they musical groupings that define your own personal tastes?
I’d say so! Inventing genres is fun. My favourite bands and writers are also my biggest influences on the album. Uncle Tupelo, Jason Isbell, DBT, Shovels & Rope, Dolly, Loretta. Jamie Wyatt, American Aquarium and Alice Wallace are heavy in my personal rotation lately, but I don’t know how everyone’s categorizing their music. The criteria is always changing.
Have you completely emptied the laundry basket with this album?
Well, I change my outfits a lot, so I make more dirty laundry on a daily basis. I will say there are certain subjects I feel complete on, and I don’t know if they need another song to explore some unexposed anger.
Have you considered another album yet and the direction that might take or is it too early for that?
Yes! I have a quarantine’s time hamperful ready for a public washing. But I’ll have to do many more good deeds before I start calling in the amount of favours it takes to make a record. Takes a lot more to make a record than it takes to make a baby. I owe a debt of gratitude to so many who donated their talents to this one, which has gotten more visibility than I ever dreamed it would, hence, this generous interview with you. I hope I’ll get a chance to hop over the pond and play for your readership soon.
Many thanks for talking with us. I hope you’re back on the road belting out those tunes again sooner rather than later.
Thank you so much, for the very real questions.
Interview by Declan Culliton