(© Anton Coene)
Over the past few years, Trixie Whitley has received plentiful praise at Daniel Lanois’ side in Black Dub, but she is now standing on her own two feet. “I’m not eager to be in the spotlights.”
Simmering for years, and then exploding: after Selah Sue that strategy also seems to be working for Trixie Whitley. Her debut album Fourth Corner has just been certified gold in Belgium and it was hailed by critics across the world. The New York Times even drew parallels with Neil Young, Radiohead, and Alicia Keys. Even Beyoncé expressed her admiration for the Belgian-American singer on her website. Not bad for a 25-year-old debutante.
Whitley has not just appeared out of the blue, of course. From her earliest years, she accompanied her father, the Texan blues musician Chris Whitley, who died in 2005, on his wild musical adventures. As a teenager, Whitley drifted into the break core as a DJ and starting performing with the Les Ballets C de la B dance company. She learned to play the drums, and then the piano. It was only later that she picked up the guitar, because she was hesitant to follow entirely in her father’s footsteps. After a first single “I’d Rather Go Blind” and an EP, Daniel Lanois invited her to sing with his new project Black Dub.
Trixie Whitley: one giant leap
“I was happy to put my own thing on hold temporarily for that,” Whitley says, while she tunes her guitar for a showcase at the RTBF. In a few moments, the singer with the stunning voice will send her contemporary mélange of blues, soul, and R&B, on the record supported by rugged guitars, and muffled electronica, live into the national ether. “You can’t say no to Daniel Lanois and Brian Blade, can you?”
We had to wait some time for your debut. That only served to raise our expectations even higher.
Trixie Whitley: The only expectations that needed to be met were those of the press and the public. I’m not particularly eager to be in the spotlights, my primary aim is to grow as an artist, and maintain my integrity along the way. The greatest pressure comes from myself. I am a restless soul, a perfectionist who is never satisfied. I put the bar really high.
Did your collaboration with Daniel Lanois influence your sound?
Whitley: Probably. Oddly enough, his influence goes much further back. I started writing my own songs at fourteen, writing lyrics to instrumental music by Brian Eno and Daniel Lanois.
What does the old rotter say about your record?
Whitley: He hasn’t heard it yet. [Laughs] Daniel is in a different phase of his life. In Black Dub, everything happened in function of the group, but Daniel realises that I have to stand on my own feet now.
You strike me as someone who likes to find their own way.
Whitley: I’ve always been unconventional, a rebel. [Laughs] I often philosophised with Daniel about the nature of rebellion. If you don’t rebel against anything, you play it safe, but it’s much more interesting to break away from the herd mentality. It’s not about standing on the barricades, but about the search for more; to be hungry for sustenance for the soul. Anybody might feel that existential need, from a musician to a cook who wants to try a different approach. To me, Satie was an incredible rebel, though that might not be the first thing you associate his music with.
We had to wait some time for your debut. That only served to raise our expectations even higher.
Trixie Whitley: The only expectations that needed to be met were those of the press and the public. I’m not particularly eager to be in the spotlights, my primary aim is to grow as an artist, and maintain my integrity along the way. The greatest pressure comes from myself. I am a restless soul, a perfectionist who is never satisfied. I put the bar really high.
Did your collaboration with Daniel Lanois influence your sound?
Whitley: Probably. Oddly enough, his influence goes much further back. I started writing my own songs at fourteen, writing lyrics to instrumental music by Brian Eno and Daniel Lanois.
What does the old rotter say about your record?
Whitley: He hasn’t heard it yet. [Laughs] Daniel is in a different phase of his life. In Black Dub, everything happened in function of the group, but Daniel realises that I have to stand on my own feet now.
You strike me as someone who likes to find their own way.
Whitley: I’ve always been unconventional, a rebel. [Laughs] I often philosophised with Daniel about the nature of rebellion. If you don’t rebel against anything, you play it safe, but it’s much more interesting to break away from the herd mentality. It’s not about standing on the barricades, but about the search for more; to be hungry for sustenance for the soul. Anybody might feel that existential need, from a musician to a cook who wants to try a different approach. To me, Satie was an incredible rebel, though that might not be the first thing you associate his music with.
So the song “Silent rebel pt. 2” is about you?
Whitley: Hmm, yes. [Laughs] I am an introvert rebel, and sometimes that is difficult to combine with performing in the “showbiz” – bah, what an awful word! – I’m in now.
How should we interpret the album’s title?
Whitley: The title track came first, in Morocco. I made a giant “leap” there as a songwriter, setting a new course I want to explore further. The song is a reconciliation with my past, my heritage. For a long time, I thought I had to choose one nationality, but I couldn’t. I didn’t feel one hundred per cent American, but not completely Belgian either. But now I’ve accepted the fact that mixed blood flows through my veins. I started approaching my music like that too. It is coloured by diverse styles, tones, and emotions, but in the end that makes it richer. The way the four seasons are very different, but also need one another. That is also the main idea behind the album: accepting difference. Our society likes pigeonholing everything. I do not.
Your album is dedicated to your father and to Mikael Whitley. Who is that?
Whitley: My grandmother. She was given a man’s name because they never accepted that she was a girl. That’s what Texas in the 1930s was like. She was a very rebellious woman, and I think I inherited a lot from her. [Laughs]
Whitley: Hmm, yes. [Laughs] I am an introvert rebel, and sometimes that is difficult to combine with performing in the “showbiz” – bah, what an awful word! – I’m in now.
How should we interpret the album’s title?
Whitley: The title track came first, in Morocco. I made a giant “leap” there as a songwriter, setting a new course I want to explore further. The song is a reconciliation with my past, my heritage. For a long time, I thought I had to choose one nationality, but I couldn’t. I didn’t feel one hundred per cent American, but not completely Belgian either. But now I’ve accepted the fact that mixed blood flows through my veins. I started approaching my music like that too. It is coloured by diverse styles, tones, and emotions, but in the end that makes it richer. The way the four seasons are very different, but also need one another. That is also the main idea behind the album: accepting difference. Our society likes pigeonholing everything. I do not.
Your album is dedicated to your father and to Mikael Whitley. Who is that?
Whitley: My grandmother. She was given a man’s name because they never accepted that she was a girl. That’s what Texas in the 1930s was like. She was a very rebellious woman, and I think I inherited a lot from her. [Laughs]
(© Anton Coene)
“Strong blood”, with Daniel Lanois on guitar and Brian Blade on drums, is an ode to your father. Is part of him in the record?
Whitley: Just as I look like my father physically, his music will be handed on in my DNA. My father wasn’t very present in my life, but we did create a kind of bond through music. My uncle Alan [Gevaert, bassist of dEUS - TZ] was almost more of a father figure. My mother and he lost their parents when they were young, so they are very close. I often jammed with him at home. There was always music playing. A lot of funk, even disco, Parliament, Chic, Sly & The Family Stone. And a lot of African things like Mali-blues for example. Because my music is built on blues foundations, people think I grew up with Robert Johnson and the likes. My father did, of course, but at home with my mother Ali Farka Touré played the blues.
“Irene” is a bluesy track, but with a contemporary twist to it.
Whitley: I wrote that song when hurricane Irene was approaching New York. I live in Brooklyn near the East River, which was an evacuation zone. I locked myself in with my guitar and turned the storm into a metaphor: I was having trouble with my record label, recordings had been stopped, people at the label were out on the street. But I didn’t let it blow me away.
Is Brooklyn a better base of operations than Ghent?
Whitley: I didn’t move there as a career move, I just like living there. Between the ages of eight and seventeen, I lived in Belgium, but I always knew I would go back. I learned to walk and cycle there, talk and write. I feel at home. And New York is a huge challenge: there are so many musicians that you really have to fight to get anywhere. I need that.
Trixie Whitley • 9/3, 20.00, SOLD OUT!, Ancienne Belgique, boulevard Anspachlaan 110, Brussel/Bruxelles, 02-548.24.24, info@abconcerts.be, www.abconcerts.be
“Strong blood”, with Daniel Lanois on guitar and Brian Blade on drums, is an ode to your father. Is part of him in the record?
Whitley: Just as I look like my father physically, his music will be handed on in my DNA. My father wasn’t very present in my life, but we did create a kind of bond through music. My uncle Alan [Gevaert, bassist of dEUS - TZ] was almost more of a father figure. My mother and he lost their parents when they were young, so they are very close. I often jammed with him at home. There was always music playing. A lot of funk, even disco, Parliament, Chic, Sly & The Family Stone. And a lot of African things like Mali-blues for example. Because my music is built on blues foundations, people think I grew up with Robert Johnson and the likes. My father did, of course, but at home with my mother Ali Farka Touré played the blues.
“Irene” is a bluesy track, but with a contemporary twist to it.
Whitley: I wrote that song when hurricane Irene was approaching New York. I live in Brooklyn near the East River, which was an evacuation zone. I locked myself in with my guitar and turned the storm into a metaphor: I was having trouble with my record label, recordings had been stopped, people at the label were out on the street. But I didn’t let it blow me away.
Is Brooklyn a better base of operations than Ghent?
Whitley: I didn’t move there as a career move, I just like living there. Between the ages of eight and seventeen, I lived in Belgium, but I always knew I would go back. I learned to walk and cycle there, talk and write. I feel at home. And New York is a huge challenge: there are so many musicians that you really have to fight to get anywhere. I need that.
Trixie Whitley • 9/3, 20.00, SOLD OUT!, Ancienne Belgique, boulevard Anspachlaan 110, Brussel/Bruxelles, 02-548.24.24, info@abconcerts.be, www.abconcerts.be
Read more about: Muziek
Fijn dat je wil reageren. Wie reageert, gaat akkoord met onze huisregels. Hoe reageren via Disqus? Een woordje uitleg.