Itis the eve of his journey to Canada, and Ash Grunwald is walking along the sand, eyes to the ocean, in anticipation of having a last surf. The multi-ARIA-nominated artist’s public image would have you believe that he is a down-to-earth, relaxed kind of guy, whose passion for performance might only be matched by his commitment to drawing attention to the political and social quagmire surrounding CSG mining.
It’s an easy myth to buy into because, well… it turns out he’s exactly that. Grunwald talks with laughing, self-deprecating ease, but underneath his carefree conversation runs a serious engagement with the purpose of his music, and the kind of songwriter he still hopes to become.
“I think over the years, especially in my back catalogue, I had more of an Australian troubadour, storytelling vibe,” he says. “Lots of stories about particular places, things that don’t happen anywhere else outside of this country. But that’s been changing over time for me. The album I’ve just done probably doesn’t have that Australian sound, but my stories are still very personal and still based on the experiences I mostly have here in Australia. I guess I’ve found myself playing too long to have stayed with the same sound anyway. You find yourself changing without realising.”
It has been 13 years since the release of his debut, Introducing Ash Grunwald, and over that much time change becomes inevitable. There is never any guarantee this will be for the better, of course, and there are only a lucky few artists who are able to maintain an expanding, engaged audience as they grow musically. For Grunwald, the success of his evolution has been the drive to stay true to the direction each song wants to take, and not become waylaid by trying to force something that just isn’t ready.
“Some of the best songs I’ve written – and certainly the most successful ones – have been cases of writing a song just to write a good song. But I don’t think that’s the most noble way of writing,” he laughs. “I prefer to write because I feel moved to say something. For me, I find when I get bogged down on the meaning of a song I focus on that too much, and I don’t want to make it too poetic. I’d like it to be poetic, but I don’t want to compromise the message at all. So I get stuck. I went through a little phase with a handful of songs, definitely the singles, where I said, ‘OK, let’s not get hung up on the meaning and just go with what feels right, what sounds right.’ I still think the best way to write a really catchy song is to just let it come out, and what naturally should be heard will be heard.
“But that can take a lot of wrestling. A song like ‘Walking’ has been really good to me, but I didn’t even know what that was about. ‘Walking through the night…’ Why was I walking through the night? For a booty call, I guess,” he chuckles. “But that was only the inference. It was all subconscious to me. I tried to refine it, but it was pretty set. Whereas other songs will be really direct, and specifically about a certain thing that can be taken no other way. And I like that literal songwriting. I think they all have a place. I like songs that are created every different way. There are so many good songs out there that all have different shapes.”
You don’t really need to look much further than Grunwald’s own catalogue to find such variety. His music has never been strictly blues, although that is more often than not how he is described. His influences are hugely varied, and as 2013’s Gargantua demonstrated, even his own songs may be revised, reinterpreted – or as Grunwald explains, “made rockier”. While this is not borne of any desire to move away from the blues moniker, he still recognises that as a genre, it rarely has the mainstream support of most other genres.
“It’s usually a bit of a curse to call yourself a blues player, though my music is very much a hybrid, I don’t even know what you’d call it. But I was always very proud to call myself that, even though using that B-word…” Grunwald falls silent for a time, and I am almost ready to move the conversation onto the next topic when he suddenly continues. “For a lot of people you hear ‘blues’ and it conjures up images of old dudes playing old music, and they wouldn’t see themselves as being a fan of that. So maybe I was stupid to ever be going on about being a blues musician in my press releases and interviews, but in truth, in my view, it’s the most soulful music. What I’ve tried to do across my whole career is to try and keep the soulful bit but also focus on the groove. Especially when it’s live, to try and turn it into a real party sound. I mean, people don’t want to sit around and listen to a slow blues number too often, so that’s what I’ve tried to focus on and breathe some fresh life into this amazing genre of music. But there are heaps of others now as well. I’m hearing a lot of bluesy stuff on the radio, and it’s really exciting. Especially with folk like The Black Keys, even Gary Clark, Jr. does well whenever he comes out here. It’s inspiring.”
In addition to his musical explorations, Grunwald has also been a passionate advocate against the injustices he sees in Australia’s current attitude towards coal seam gas mining. Though it is not unusual for artists to utilise their celebrity to foster social awareness, Grunwald has directly experienced the struggles faced by those opposing the corporate interests behind such drilling, and found himself bewildered that more of the population isn’t outraged.
“I’ve said a few things politically over the years, but in getting more involved with the CSG issue my indignation has [become] a lot stronger. I’m a lot older now as well, and I feel legitimately like something has to be done. It’s a conscious call for me to do as much as I can. The single, ‘The Last Stand’, was about standing up against the coal seam gas mines, and after that I spent another two years helping out wherever I could. The more you get involved, the more you are confronted with the truth firsthand, the more you start to realise, ‘My God, what’s fucking happening to this country?’ And I can’t believe nobody gives a shit!
“I’ve seen a lot of things now, witnessed situations where farmers are kicked off their land, or prevented from blockading to stop themselves from being poisoned. Being kicked off by cops, who we’re employing, just to protect the rights of private companies! I just think we’re in an absurd situation at the moment, and that’s kind of what I’m working on for my current album. That, and the challenge of trying to keep booty-shaking while I’m doing it.”
Catch him atCampfire Festival 2015alongsideJohn Butler Trio, Mental As Anything, Kasey Chambers, Lee Kernaghan, The McClymonts and more atHope Estate, Hunter Valley fromFriday March 13 to Sunday March 15, tickets online.Also appearing at Coastal Blues, The Entertainment Grounds, Gosford Racecourse on Saturday March 21, tickets here.
