Any which way

>> Success pulls Patrick Watson and
his band in every direction

TO RUSSIA WITH LOVE: Patrick Watson (L) and band

by RUPERT BOTTENBERG

“It’s been a funny adventure,” says Montreal pianist, composer and singer Patrick Watson, when asked what’s happened since we last spoke. That was for a Mirror cover story last September, as Watson and his band launched their album Close to Paradise. Since then, Watson and co. have literally been all over the map, and on tips of many wagging tongues—their richly textured, emotionally expansive and gorgeously decayed sound has created a snowballing success for them.

They’ve gone north, not just to big crowds in Quebec’s subarctic hinterlands (“Quebec blew up like crazy,” says Watson. “I kinda knew it would do that, but not to this extent”) but to the Iceland Airwaves festival (“It’s worth going to Iceland once in your life, because it’s like being on the moon”).

They’ve gone west, managing to flip their van in Fargo, North Dakota (a beloved Pink Floyd song was apparently at fault), and yes, Fargo is just like the Coen Brothers’ movie. Their saviour, a dude named Tony with a pick-up truck, set up a special afterhours liquor-and-cheeseburgers session at the local legion hall—with just Tony, his “super-obnoxious, crazy” mother and the bartender.

They’ve gone east, or at least Watson has, tagging along with Cinematic Orchestra (on whose new album he cameos) through Greece, Poland, the Czech Republic and Russia. “I had such high hopes for Russia, because I love Rimsky-Korsakov and all these heavy motherfuckers from Russia, so I kinda expected people who, although though they’re in a bad state, still had a lot of pride in what they did. But Moscow… Moscow’s like the Wild West. It’s like you walked into Deadwood. No fucking rules, man!

“We realized it was so chaotic that it was hilarious—because all you can do is laugh and try not to be scared. We had four ex-KGB guards on stage, and the front was the most typical Bond-film Russian enemy girls, with the high boots and skirts, and they’re all with their big, scary boyfriends, and the girls are all making sexy faces, and you know if you look at them, you’re dead. I think that’s why we had the bodyguards.”

And they’ve gone south, and moreover fully intend to do so again, in order to record their next album in Nashville. Watson and guitarist Simon Angell are confirmed C&W fans, and Watson confesses that he’d like to add Dolly Parton to a list of collaborators that already includes Amon Tobin, Lhasa de Sela and more. “She’s always had the stigma of the big tits, but I never realized that she’s the shit on top of all that funny shit. I’d like to sing a song with this lady.”

Which isn’t to say that the next album will be aimed at the Grand Ole Opry crowd. “We want to make a science-fiction folk album, and the other thing is, we’ve really started getting into foley sound effects for films. The main direction for the lyrics is a description of Pulp Fiction someone told me—‘everything’s completely normal except for one element that’s completely fictitious.’”

The lure of the lower half of the U.S., for Watson and his band, is all about atmosphere. “Can’t put it in words, but there’s something in the air down there. Everything comes from there—blues, rock ’n’ roll, pretty much Western music as we know it right now. Obviously, it’s changed as it’s travelled, but the foundations all come from the weird Deep South.

“They still believe in magic. I fuckin’ love that.”

With the Besnard Lakes at Metropolis tonight,
Thursday, July 5, 8:30 p.m., $24.50