Slow Leaves just released a new video for album track “How Do I Say” from multiple Prism Prize nominated directors Ft. Langley.
The song itself "was written in part with Richard Linklater’s film Before Sunrise in mind,” says Davidson. “It's a tragic love song that takes place at the moment two people meet, drawn by a magnetism greater than either can express with words. The tragic side is that they must part ways in the morning.” The full- length Enough About Me, due out Aug 11, was born of the demos Davidson had recorded in his Winnipeg basement. Joined by frequent bandmates and collaborators Jason Tait (Bahamas, Weakerthans), Rusty Matyas (Imaginary Cities, Sheepdogs), and Julie Penner (Broken Social Scene, Do Make Say Think), these ten songs represent a true distillation of his influences while acknowledging, as the self-referential title suggests, that no man (or record) is an island.
Slow Leaves calls to mind a 1970s California country-folk record newly discovered in your parent's attic. Known for his easy delivery of sincere, poetic lyrics and lilting melodies, Slow Leaves is the project of JUNO Master Class songwriter Grant Davidson whose songs linger in the timeless spaces where heart and humility endure. Due out August 11, his new album, Enough About Me, is his most personal album to date, reflecting on an ordinary life where meaning is invented and comfort is found in the realization that there are no answers.
1. What’s the most ‘rock star’ thing that you’ve ever done?
I’ve done many things I’m ashamed of that I won’t mention here. I wouldn’t call them “rock star” things, just stupidity. I’m a folk musician.
2. What do you like better studio or stage and why?
Both can be amazing or frustrating. When things are working well, the studio can be really exciting though I think making demos is usually more fun. That’s when all the ideas start coming together and there’s no pressure for perfect takes. In fact I often end up using demo takes on finished records because the feel is right. I love capturing something special. I’ll lie in bed afterward and listen to it over and over. That’s one of the most satisfying musical experiences for me. That being said, once in a while there are shows where you can just feel that elusive chemistry reacting in a room and everyone senses that they are part of a special moment. That’s an amazing feeling and chasing that is the real reason I keep playing shows.
3. If you had to give up music - what would you do to be creative?
A few years back a friend of mine started a tiny smoke house restaurant in the Muskoka area on southern Ontario. He wanted to have live music and so we set up a show. He was unsure of the finer details of the liquor licence, or lack thereof, and so operated a private lounge out back in an old airstream trailer. He called it Igor’s Airstream Lounge and between sets, in groups of five at a time, the patrons would shuffle out to the lounge where Igor, a freshly immigrated Eastern European man of few English words and a permanent smile, poured generous helpings of vodka into shot glasses. I don’t remember a lot from the second set, but it was one of those special shows where everyone in the room was intimately connected by the experience. It also turned out to be the restaurant’s first and last show as they closed shortly afterwards. It stands as one of my favourite shows and a very fond memory.
5. What is the best advice you were given in the music business
Be part of a community. I operated in a vacuum for a long time, writing songs by myself in my basement like a sad bastard. I still write sad bastard basement songs but I have a network with which to share them and collaborate. If nothing else, music is more fun with other people.