BRIGHT FUTURE
David Poe talks to Steve Adams about his new appearances at Ronnie Scott’s

There are few better moments in the life of a music aficionado than stumbling on to a brilliant new act when you least expect it.

Last summer I had the pleasure in circumstances both likely – it happened at the excellent Songwriter’s Festival at Ronnie Scott’s – and unlikely – the artist was opening for the now defunct Unbelievable Truth.
The artist in question was American singer songwriter David Poe, whose dazzlingly eclectic performance mixed rootsy rock with bossa jazz to beguiling effect.
Indeed, his confident set was everything the Unbelievable Truth’s wasn’t – witty, incisive, relaxed and wonderful.
No wonder they split up after touring with him.
“I feel bad for them,” he offers sympathetically on the line from his home in New York City. “But I think Andy’s first love is Russia and Eastern Europe and the political philosophy relating to those places. When we were touring we’d go out for a drink and he’d just talk about globalisation and stuff.”
It sounds like Thom Yorke’s younger sibling isn’t that different to his brother after all.
“I don’t think Andy’s much of a rock n roller,” Poe continues, developing a knack for understatement.
“I think he’s more of an intellectual – he’d probably be better served by doing a solo tour, even though it’s terrifying and much more difficult to make your point sometimes.”
Solo tours are something the Ohio-born science graduate knows plenty about, having spent the last four years opening for the likes of Tori Amos, Bob Dylan, 10,000 Maniacs, Jonathan Richman and Ron Sexsmith to varied responses.

He’s currently in the UK as opening act for Squeeze frontman Glen Tilbrook’s latest solo outing and optimistic that it’ll work out.
“I’ve done the solo tour thing with people like Tori Amos and the Jayhawks and it’s especially tough when you’re opening solo for a band. Opening for Glen Tilbrook is the closest I can imagine to going out with someone where the audience will be able under-stand it. They’re expecting him to play solo, so to have me come out solo first won’t be a big deal.
“It’ll be a lot different to Tori Amos, where you’re standing in front of the drum kit with 4,000 rabid fans just waiting for her to come out and straddle the piano!”
It’s hard to imagine David Poe – as likeable a musical ambassador for his country as you’re likely to meet – was unnerved by the experience.
After forming a band and putting out a single while still at high school (”I remember hearing it on the local radio station, in between Rebel Rebel and Hey Jude – after that, all things were possible”) he quickly became a permanent fixture on the American music circuit, albeit on the periphery.
Getting a job as sound man at a gallery adjacent to New York’s revered CBGB’s club in the early 90s was his first big break.
“I’d never actually done (house sound) before, so I learned fast!” he says. “I began to think more about tone. The music was acoustic and downtown. My co-workers were aspiring photog-raphers, writers, visual artists, film makers. We were all bent on doing extraordinary things. It was a fertile time.”

In 1994 while working at the club he met and immediately hit it off with Henry Rollins’ drummer Sim Cain.
The pair began meeting up whenever Cain was in town and formed a duo called the Christ Brothers (”because we both looked like Jesus at the time”), playing downtown clubs during Cain’s hiatus from touring and recording with the Rollins Band.
Their professional relationship blossomed along with the friendship and Cain ended up producing Poe’s debut EP.
“He was the person who really brought the first record to fruition,” says Poe with a mixture of gratitude and admiration.
“I’ve played with a lot of people and am pretty convinced that Sim Cain’s the greatest drummer in the world. The highest level you can get to as a musician is when you can hear something in your head and translate it to your instrument immediately and effortlessly. That’s what he does.”
For what it’s worth, anyone who saw Poe, Cain and bassist John Abbey opening for the Unbelievable Truth at Ronnie’s in July would be hard pushed to disagree.
As I wrote at the time, Cain was worth the entrance fee alone.
Meanwhile with the EP in the can, a record deal (with 550 Music) was easier to secure, and the debut album David Poe soon followed, with the legendary T-Bone Burnett in the producer’s chair.
“We recorded it in about two and a half weeks, all live,” says Poe. “Part of the thing about this record is – and part of the reason why people find it a little underwhelming or subtle or whatever – is because it’s pretty much a live record.”
Subtle it may be, but underwhelming it certainly isn’t.
The album has a warmth and vibe like few others in recent years, and bodes well for the follow up, the recording of which is being fitted around Poe’s taxing European tour schedule (after a month of Tilbrook dates, he’s off to support Holly Cole in Germany).

A second album is actually long overdue – the debut might have only just been released over here but it’s been out in the USA for over three years.
Had he started to get bored playing the songs?
“Not really. Every night I try to re-interpret things and do them differently. When I play solo I have all these electronics – freak-out loops and weird echo boxes – to entertain myself and when I’m with the band we hit it differently every night.
“I guess that’s the part that’s most interesting really, unlike a rock band where you play the same songs in the same order and the same style every night.”
It’s clear we’ve hit on something of a bee in Poe’s bonnet.
“I’m not interested in trying to hit a perfect mark every night,” he says. “Because then the best you can do is hit the mark and usually you’re not gonna hit it. I’m more interested in re-interpreting things and making it interesting.
“I guess I’ve been infected by the New York performance vibe,” he adds, laughing. “If I’d moved from Ohio to Los Angeles or London then things might have been different but the tra-dition of New York is an improvisational one, so I try and do a little bit of that. And if not, I just end the set early and get drunk!”
19 October 2000, Birmingham Post