Words: Abi Colthrust

STREETBRAND speaks to US-based award-winning author and journalist Lou Carlozo, who at  44, has “come off the bench” to make a pop record. Find out more about the journalist, the musician and the man in this Christian music interview.

SB: So what finally swung it for you that led you to produce an album aged 44, having been a music journalist for the largest part of your life to date?

LC: Before I was a journalist, I was a full-time musician, so I came at it from an entirely different angle. And I had never stopped making music. But I got to a point where the truly rewarding groups--Arcade Fire, Clap Your Hands Say yeah - were badly outnumbered by the disappointing ones. I just talked to a music exec today who confided that John Mayer, for example, is a much better musician that his music makes him out to be. He insists John's gone soft and pop because that's what his handlers want and that John goes along with that.

Well, at 44 I don't need a handler. And I have a nice day gig, so I don't need a record deal. I'm in the perfect position to make art - simple, powerful, passionate art. Plus, if rock and roll is music for the desperate, what could be more desperate than realising your life is half over? That many of your dreams have passed by? Missing the big Abercrombie and Fitch sale at the mall hardly qualifies.

 
SB: What’s it like to suddenly be in the reverse role and have your music held up to scrutiny after years of being the one with the opinions?

LC: I love it. I am in the rare position to criticise the critics with impunity. Thank goodness the reviews have been overwhelmingly positive. But if a bad one comes along, I'll take comfort in three things. First, I could learn from it. Second, you can't just say something is bad without having clearly defined and defended reasons, which eliminates 99 per cent of the bloggers out there from having a valid point. And third, I know the critic's trick: It's far easier to deconstruct something than praise it. But as I've said, I'm amazed that so far, the news has been good. I've gotten lavish praise from everyone from rock poet Peter Himmelman to P.O.D.'s manager. I don't live by those affirmations--but they sure don't hurt.  
 
SB: What’s the most encouraging feedback you’ve received about the new album?

LC: Peter Himmelman compared me to the Kinks and I almost fainted. The P.O.D. manager, Tim Ottley, said it was in his Top 5 rotation, ahead of George Strait . But when Jim Powers, the guy who discovered the Cardigans, Liz Phair and the Cowboy Junkies, starting volunteering his own time to help with the mixes, I was floored. I didn't ask. And he got so involved I'd have to call him the Fifth Beatle. Except that I'm not a Beatle. Oh well.
 
SB: Who will it appeal to most?

LC: Me. I made the album I dreamed of receiving at my Chicago Tribune desk for years.
I'm serious. John Lennon said he made his art only to please himself. But that's a great idea, isn't it? That not only guarantees your best shot at being unique, but dig this: If you can move yourself, you might just move others too. Next in line would be those who miss great pop - I mean real pop that negotiates the thin line between light and shadow. Too much light means an overdose of those cutesy Squeeze songs. Too much shadow and you get those dark, mean-spirited songs by Fountains of Wayne, who I've never much liked for that very reason. I'd say that every silver lining has a cloud. And every heartbreak leads to a heartbreak through. That's my thang. And 12-string electric guitars, nice and LOUD! (Laughs.) 

SB: Balance seems to be a key word in the picture you paint of your own career and life in general; where do you find the sense of perspective to help you juggle the priorities in your life?

LC: Great question. Balance on a surfboard, for example, is more intuition than thought. Think too much, and in the drink you go. I pray. A lot. I'm actually quite a mess, a very confused person considering I don't do drugs or drink or play mahjong. So I need to maintain that lifeline to God, and get that sense of how to surf life. I also have a great support system: wonderful friends and an amazing wife who refuses to snow me with how wonderful I am. Even though I am. Sometimes.
 
SB: Now you’re a self-proclaimed Christian. To what extent does that impact your music? Do you think it would be accurate to call it “Christian Music”?

LC: I'm no more a Christian musician than, say, a Christian carnivore. That's an unfortunate label that I think scares a lot of people away, and has trapped some amazing artists into a landscape where Jesus works everything out by Act 3, and also makes a mean Jell-O soufflé for the kids to enjoy. I'd say that I'm an artist who's a Christian - much as Johnny Cash, Bono or Lenny Kravitz would call themselves such and that makes me see things in a certain way. There is redemption and ridiculousness, brutality and renewal, humour and humility, all sorts of forces in conflict and fighting to control us. That's the boat we are all in, not just the Christians. So, just as I can listen to the Qawwali music of Nusrat Fateh Ali-Khan and be overwhelmed--even though I don't follow that spiritual path--I'm trying to fashion pop songs and lyrical themes that will strike a chord with anyone who exults, suffers and pushes on. Which is all of us.