Mike Kinsella Releases New Leaves as a New Man

Mike Kinsella's upgraded from fuzzy scruff to full-fledged beard. Is the man bracing for a brutal winter? Running out of razors? Emulating the great Sam Beam?

Of course, Kinsella, who just this past September released a record under his solo moniker Owen, is the only one who knows the truth behind the Iron & Wine-esque facial hair, but it isn't a longshot to assume that some changes have been taking place in his life between 2007's At Home with Owen and his latest, New Leaves, out on Polyvinyl.

In fact, according to Kinsella himself, "There's a ton of shit going on." Sure, the long days and nights of being on the road take their toll on traveling indie folk singer-songwriters like Owen, but that isn't all that he's referring to.

The man, whose tattoos (reminiscent of his time in Chicago indie bands American Football, Joan of Arc and Cap'n Jazz) sneak past his Oxford shirt's rolled up sleeves, is cool, calm, collected, and seems to have an aura around him—one that he nurses close to him like a secret treasure that he, and only he, can care for. And this makes perfect sense, as he is literally nursing something entirely brand new to his life: his first baby, born just six months ago.

His latest record, while complete with all constant "Owen factors"—the delicate and intricate acoustic guitar, the softspoken and witty lyrics—carries this same new and distinct tone, invigorated by his entrance into fatherhood. In a rather creepy, lair-like basement room at the Mercury Lounge, Kinsella can't help but ruminate his life-changing experience and most recent release, while ruffling through his beard.

Although most bands release albums every few years or so, the actual writing and recording process doesn't usually take more than a couple of months. But for Owen's New Leaves, it was a two-year labor of love. "Because it's just me and nobody else [in Owen], I'm not going to be writing parts or getting stuff done, nor was I slaving over it," he explained. In fact, the songs came together sporadically, at all times of the day, every few days—a slow method that he wholeheartedly believed in and found the most productive.

"Some of these songs I had been sitting on for nearly four years, but they start off as skeletons, and every so often, even while watching football or going through a mid-life crisis sitting in a broken car while on tour, I'll add to them," continued Kinsella, "but these songs are never really done until they are finally recorded." And even though there's much time in between the writing and actual releasing and playing of the songs, they never grow stale to or detached from the Chicago-bred songwriter. "They actually have a new whole relevance to me all the time."

Many of the tracks on New Leaves, such as the fluid, more upbeat single "Good Friends, Bad Habits," have a much richer texture than those on previous albums. The bells, piano and tambourines that might have only played a minor role in past songs, here sonically come through more strongly, giving the entire record a more polished and full sound—all of which helps to frame Owen's music more beautifully and elegantly. This other newfound change can be attributed to Kinsella relying less on his recordings from the studio in his mom's house (where he's recorded chunks of past released material) and more on the assistance of professional engineers and producers. He's had to update this process because, according to him, the stuff at that studio just can't keep up with what professionals are doing elsewhere. But that doesn't stop him from hanging out with his mom—who is both an avid fan and, when he's at her house, "his personal chef." He even jokes about recording a family Christmas album, with him on vocals and her tickling the ivories.

Structurally, the music and lyrics should be familiar to any Owen fan, as he hasn't really changed it up all that much since earlier releases No Good For No One or I Do Perceive. The language is complex, verbose, flowery and even poetic at times. Kinsella takes much of his lyrical cues from the literary styles of Raymond Carver, commenting as he thought back to his high school English classes, "It's blunt and it's stated really simply, but maybe in reverse of how you'd actually say it." He went on, "If I'm stuck on something, maybe I'll just flip it around and say the same thing in a different way because you can miss it less easily and if it's a little different, it will stand out more."

Above our heads and through the ceiling of the tiny room, the opening band is finishing up their set. The walls vibrate with sound and Kinsella is fiddling with his brown boots as he recalls the past couple of sleepless and hectic months prior to hitting the road for the New Leaves tour. The change in his life has been far more than just one great impact; instead, according to him, “it's mind-blowing all the time, especially since my lifestyle now is very different than it was just two years ago." Tracks like opener "New Leaves" discuss his transition: "You spend the fall turning over new leaves, one by one." And "Amnesia and Me," a song written about his wife and daughter, features Kinsella sweetly singing about the impact of both fatherhood and husbandry: "Amnesia and me, sitting in a tree F-O-R-G-E-T-T-I-N-G everything we once knew." While the newness of his life rattles him everyday, he seems both extremely pleased and agitated by it.

Just thinking a few seconds about the fact that he is thousands of miles away from his newborn daughter freaks him out. "I should be home! What kind of dad am I, if I'm not there with her and my wife right now?" But he said he keeps in touch constantly via phone calls and rabid text messages. "A lot of my inspiration for my music comes from being gone and being on tour," he says as he thinks back on past records, "but home now means something entirely different than it did before."

While Kinsella's been a successful musician for over 10 years now, his paying gig now poses a new kind of dilemma for him: "For me to make money for my family, I have to leave my family." But he's quick to express his love for playing shows and meeting new people every night.

Looking ahead, Kinsella tells me he's very curious to know what his daughter's reactions will be to his long catalog of music. And while countless fan requests to reunite American Football have been dashed and forgotten, he informs me that possibly a special request by his little girl would do the trick. "Yeah, I doubt that will happen since kids always seem to rebel against their parents, so I'm not going to give it much thought."

-MG.

http://www.myspace.com/mybandowen

We all have our favorite lines from our favorite albums, but do you ever wonder what the artist's favorite lines are? Mike Kinsella gives us a couple of his peronal favorites off New Leaves.

"I'm content like I've never been born." - "Never Been Born"

"There's just something about having the song change up at that moment, after the word 'born,' it's really cool and just how I envisioned it to be."

"I like a little ink on my girl."- "A Trenchant Critique"

Every time he sings it, he thinks of his wife's tattoos