Latest news with #MichaelPenn

Boston Globe

Aimee Mann says she ‘would never have become a musician' without Berklee

She said the school's 'Come and learn' approach and her teachers' encouragement were instrumental. 'I would never have become a musician otherwise,' she says. Get Starting Point A guide through the most important stories of the morning, delivered Monday through Friday. Enter Email Sign Up The 'super fun' music scene in Boston in the early eighties was the next spark. 'It was incredibly vibrant and all the bands knew each other,' she says. 'I also worked at Newbury Comics so I heard every import, every interesting weird little new wave and punk band.' Her band, Young Snakes, was 'unlistenable and noisy,' she says with a laugh. 'It's the kind of thing you do when you're 20. But there were a hundred clubs in the area and we played six nights a week, so it gave me a lot of experience. It was the most fun part of my career.' Advertisement Mann, who's married to singer-songwriter Michael Penn, will be performing her 2002 album 'Lost in Space' on this tour (it has just been re-mastered for vinyl). How did the recent 'Til Tuesday reunion come about? We got an offer from this festival and I'm not sure why I did it. The guys really wanted to do it. I didn't really want to, I gotta say, but I like a challenge. I wondered if I could do these songs well and how would I approach them. It was more difficult than I thought it would be, because I don't sing like that anymore. Even changing the keys didn't help. My style has gotten more conversational. It became a technical thing, like how do I leap up to the octave. So on some songs, it felt like singing karaoke — and I don't ever sing karaoke. The show went really well, but music is like a time machine, and it's weird, 'cause you don't always come back. I felt really weird afterwards and I can't tell you why. I think it's because I'm not that person anymore. So it felt like I was subbing for the singer of this band, like there was some identity shifting where you feel like you're your own doppelganger. You're playing the 'Lost in Space' album on this tour, which was written during a healing period after a difficult point in your life. Will singing those songs feel cathartic or emotionally fraught, or are they just songs? I guess I'll find out. We're just starting to practice now. A lot of the songs are very depressing, but when you're on stage, the audience creates a different vibe, so it's a more cheerful party atmosphere. And I love my band so much that I feel like focusing on the music will make it fun and satisfying regardless of what the lyrics are. Advertisement You had traumas in your childhood [her parents fought over custody and she was taken by one all over Europe and then the other to England]. How much do your early experiences still linger in your songwriting? Stuff pops up as echoes. You find yourself writing about a current situation, but the reason it resonates is it reminds you of your annoying stepmother, and otherwise that situation wouldn't bother you. I think everything has echoes to the past. You also paint and make comics. What do you like about having other creative outlets? Again, I like challenges. Painting and cartooning are harder for me than writing songs. You want to feel like you really cracked it. There's fun in that, although I'm writing a graphic memoir and it is not that fun because I'm not that good at it. Maybe by the end of the book, I'll be better. I have some moments where I think, 'This panel is really good.' But if every panel is, 'Oh, this head looks like a pumpkin' and I've erased it a thousand times, then the fun is kind of limited. I wish it came more naturally, but, you know... Do you and your husband bounce ideas off each other when you're working on new songs? Michael is very solitary and much more private about his stuff. The joke about him is that he's a hermit. He has a studio where he basically sits in the dark writing songs for his first record in 20 years because he's been scoring movies and TV shows. Advertisement I encourage him to ask if he's having trouble with lyrics or something, because I can write a couple of lines that maybe will give him an idea. Only two times in the last nine months has he asked to play me something. Once he asked, 'Does this sound like something else?' And once he said the lyrics were just placeholders, but I said, 'These lyrics are fantastic. What is even wrong with you?' He's very self-critical. Do you play stuff for him? No, I don't. I think I assume he's not really that interested. Playing songs for another person is really tricky. The only person I'll send a song to for a pat on the back or a 'Does this work' is my friend, Jonathan Coulton. I'll say, I'm not sure exactly what the song is about, so tell me what it feels like so I can home in on the lyrics. How do you look back at the success you had with 'Til Tuesday and the record label struggles you had in your solo career? Do you have any regrets? My decisions — to make my own records on my own label since 'Bachelor No. 2″ — have been perfect for me. The majority of female singers out there have a certain look. It's showbiz and I'm not interested in showbiz. That takes a certain mindset and effort and frankly it's too much work in the realms of thinking about outfits and sets and product deals. Not for me. I also don't have a lot of patience with other people's commercial concerns. Advertisement At this point I don't even know how you have a hit — you get a million streams on Spotify and you make 30 cents. Like, wow, I should really aspire to that. 'Til Tuesday was really famous, like MTV famous. But it doesn't take that many people following you back to like your crappy apartment and waiting outside your window to make you think, fame makes everyone a stalker and yet I have to be nice to them. For fame, it really helps to have a bottomless need for attention and my need to be loved and paid attention to has a limit. If I make a record for myself that I really like, that's enough. This interview was edited for length and clarity. AIMEE MANN With Jonathan Coulton Friday, June 6, 8 p.m., The Wilbur, 246 Tremont St., Boston. Sold out, but tickets are available for resale.