Imagine: A Dream Interview

A man came to me in my dream. He held a sharpened No. 2 pencil in one hand and a spiral notebook in the other. I didn’t catch his name, but he was interested in knowing about my new album. So, we sat at a marble table atop the Eiffel Tower (remember, this is a dream) and he asked some questions. I’ll call him the Interviewer.

Interviewer: You’ve been writing and recording original music for a few years now. What made you switch to cover tunes?

GR: I love writing and recording original songs. That said, I played for many years in a cover band called StationWagon, and I got to thinking recently about going into the studio and recording some of my favorite songs by artists I admire. I didn’t want to make note-for-note recordings of these songs, so I came up with the concept of a songwriter playing the songs in a dream.  

Interviewer: For your earlier albums, you worked with a band, but this album presents a more stripped-down approach. Talk about that.

GR: I’ve known Jules Leyhe for a few years. He’s a fantastic guitar player and all-around great guy. As I thought more about this album’s dream concept, and as I played more with Jules, I realized it would be cool for just the two of us to make this album. Performing as a duo (me on acoustic guitar and Jules on electric) allows us to present these songs in a unique way. Towards the end of the project, we brought in Elisa Wendell to add her amazing vocals on some of the songs. 

Interviewer: How did you meet Jules?

GR: Let’s see. It was right before the COVID-19 lockdown, during that time when some businesses were shutting down and some weren’t yet (but they’d probably be closing soon). I’d scheduled a recording session at Tiny Telephone with another guitarist. As it turned out, that guitarist couldn’t make it. Fearing it might be a long, long time before I’d get into the studio again, I scrambled to find another guitarist and that led me to Jules. We did that session and a few others over the years. And we became friends along the way. So it all worked out. 

Interviewer: How did you decide on the songs?

GR: Now that the album is finished, I’m surprised that I didn’t struggle more to choose the songs. I love so many different songs (and so many different types of songs), and I have so many favorite artists. But these songs came together very quickly—like they were meant to be on this album together. “Isn’t It a Pity” is the only song that I added later in the process. I knew I wanted to cover a George Harrison song, but I wasn’t sure which one. Then I heard Jules playing slide guitar on “Isn’t It a Pity” and knew it would fit right in.

Interviewer: What was the process like for making this album? Did you rehearse the material or just show up at the studio and have at it?

GR: When I was sure about the song list, I wrote a creative brief that I shared with Jules and Audio Engineer Danielle Goldsmith. Jules and I met a handful of times to run through the songs. A couple months before recording, I had an opportunity to work for a month from northern Spain. I didn’t want to forget my tunes, so I asked the guy we rented our house from if he could find a guitar that I could borrow. Now, whenever I think about this album, I’ll recall the month I spent playing a loaner guitar in a beach house in Galicia. Not a bad way to practice.      

Interviewer: You also included two original tracks on the album?

GR: That’s right. “The Dream” is an improvised instrumental that sets up album’s concept. I then end the album with the “The Dream Returns,” which features sounds that Danielle or I have recorded over the years. Like seagulls on Ocean Beach and kettle drums and various analog tape manipulations. Danielle is great at weaving these types of pieces together into a compelling soundscape.   

Interviewer: Congratulations on the album. How do like the view from the Eiffel Tower?  

GR: Thank you. It’s amazing up here. All I need now is an Aperol Spritz.

“I’ll Cover You in My Dreams” is available from Bandcamp, Spotify, iTunes, and other services.

Learn more about:

Greg Roensch: here and here

Jules Leyhe: here

Danielle Goldsmith: here

Watching the Clothes Dry in Corsica

We’re hanging out for a long weekend in Bastia, the second biggest city in Corsica. Our hotel, A Casa Reale, is on the second floor of a building dating back to 1700. Napoleon once stayed here. Flaubert once dined here. Yes, that’s how we roll.

The hotel is beautifully renovated, though every piece of furniture, except maybe the coffee machine and the toaster, are relics of bygone eras. The piano in the common room looks like something Mozart might have played (if he ever came to Corsica). Everything about this place oozes history, except for the plumbing, thankfully.

A Casa Reale is in the old town, thirty minutes from the airport. Our taxi driver gestured toward the horizon at one point to tell us we could see Elba on a clearer day. He also apologized for the traffic and for driving us through an ugly industrial area. “We’ll arrive somewhere nice soon,” he assured RL in French.

When learning where we’re from, he erupted with a massive “Sannnnn Frannnnnciscooooo,” sounding like something a soccer play-by-play commentator might howl when his team scores a World-Cup-winning goal.

Upon arriving at Flaubert’s hotel (that’s what I’m calling it now), we uncorked the complimentary bottle of Corsican wine and gazed out at the view of the port from our room. For dinner, we found our way to a restaurant called Grazie Mille. I’m no foodie, but the pistachio-encrusted sea bass with limoncello-soaked orange slices was fricking amazing.

Praise be to Neptune that we were inside the restaurant when a prodigious hailstorm began to pelt the cobblestones where Flaubert and Napoleon once walked. Grazie mille, indeed.

It’s morning now. The rain is gone, and I’m sitting on the terrace at A Casa Reale, watching a ferry depart for Sardinia. A church bell signals the hour, power tools chip away at the concrete at a nearby renovation, children laugh and play on the narrow street below, and the wind whips off the Tyrrhenian Sea, causing the clothes hanging from a line on a building across the way to flutter and dance.

Our first stop today will be the tourist office to figure out a plan for the next three days, though I’m happy to sit here and watch the clothes dry in the sun.