As he releases his latest album High, the Grammy-award winning artist talks Janita Purcell through the pivotal songs in his life and why country music needs to keep evolving.
Talking to Keith Urban about the songs that have had meaning and an effect on him, one thing becomes very clear, nine is simply not enough.
Not just because he is an artist himself, but that he’s also a champion for new artists and for the new ways that music continues to evolve. It’s hearteningly radical for someone who is a leading light in the country genre, with the pushback to change being a heavy theme emanating from Music City as of late.
Instead, Urban tells me he’s “a big lover of the evolution of country music, that it should never just stay the same. I have an issue with traditionalists that want to become the arbiters of ‘What is country?’
"I mean, first of all, no one has a right to say, ‘What is country?’ It's just absurd.” He believes that what is true to an artist is what should make it onto the record. Genre is simply secondary to the feeling.
To lead with emotion is the thing that Urban admires most about many of the songs and artists he has chosen for his Nine Songs, even if that means putting one’s vulnerability on a platter. It’s about songs that leave him feeling closer to himself, usually led by a confessional lyric. It’s one of the many traits he admires about new artists who are yet to be defined in any concrete way.
Urban is also a voracious consumer of music, constantly looking for something new. “I listen to everything. New Music Friday, I go through every song. I'm listening to what's happening, what's going on, what's popular, what's on the fringes, the artists I like, what they've put out recently”, he explains. "I love new music. I probably love new music more than anything, because it's inspiring.”
In the spirit of discovery, Urban’s latest record High is a collection of songs he recorded and ultimately decided needed a revisit before its release. “There wasn't enough spirit on the previous record that I scrapped, and I could feel it.”
One way he describes High links to how he defines his own way of making music. “If I've got any predictability, it might be edges of unpredictability. And I think again, the record I ditched, 615 was a little bit safe and predictable, it missed some of the undefinable stuff I do.”
“There's a song on my album called “Chuck Taylors”, and I can't quite define what that song is. It's got a rural lyric I guess, but the construct of it, melodically and track wise, is pretty unique, a bit hard to define.”
Hard to define is both a short and neat way of describing his successful musical career, one that has taken him from working with Dolly Parton one moment to Jason Derulo the next. Urban has never been an artist who is locked in by any definition of being a country artist, and his Nine Songs are a reflection of that.
“Jolene” by Dolly Parton
She's just unparalleled, her level of songwriting, singing, record making, relevance, business savvy, creativity, acting. It's unbelievable what Dolly's done with her career and still is doing.
So it was hard for me to pick one song, but I picked “Jolene” because it's such a haunting track. I think the thing I've always loved about it is the dominating nylon string guitar part, and then the way the congas, bongos, percussion, the rhythmic stuff that’s happening underneath it.
It's always been such a stunning sounding record, and I think that’s because of its minimalism. It's obviously recorded on tape, so it has a particular sound, and it's such a unique sounding arrangement of instruments. It's a remarkable song and it stands the test of time as by being so extraordinarily unique.
I was also heavily influenced by a lot of Don Williams’ records, and they're not too dissimilar. I think if anybody listened to “Jolene” and then listened to almost anything from Don Williams in that same ‘70s period – and my Dad was a massive Don fan - there'd be a lot of similarities in the very dry, organic analogue-y sound of the band.
I think if I've gleaned anything from those records, it's certain levels of minimalism on certain songs that I've recorded over the years.
“You Get What You Give” by New Radicals
BEST FIT: When you first hear a track for the first time, is it the production that sticks out for you or listening to the lyrics?
KEITH URBAN: I would say spirit. I recently went back to that whole album, Maybe You've Been Brainwashed Too, maybe a couple of weeks ago, and I had the exact same feeling top to bottom of why that record was so influential on me. That song represents only one side of that record, of course, one part of that record.
But I remember the first time I heard that song, and it was just bristling out of the speakers, and I was like, ‘What is this?’ I guess it was everything. It was the sound of the record. It was Gregg Alexander's voice. It was the spirit. It was the blend of punk, laissez-faire, couldn't give a shit, with just a little commercialism fused in this extraordinary way,
It wasn’t too dissimilar to what The Clash did, in blending that kind of middle finger with a little commerciality. I grew up with pub rock in Australia, which has a much closer relationship to punk and street-expressive music that's not too slick.
And the reason why that record influenced me was because - and I know delving into the album a bit more than the song - but that record opens with "Mother We Just Can't Get Enough", which is quite sort of jammy, raw, loose, spontaneous. Then it goes straight into “You Get What You Give”, which is a bit more structured, the song right after that is back to a loose stream-of-conscious spontaneity and the one after that is a bit more structured.
And that balance of almost stream-of-conscious tracks, that are loose and raw and not polished, with the proceeding and following tracks being a bit more polished is what, for me, gave that record so much balance. I think I've gleaned that a lot on my own records, of certain songs being loose and other ones being a bit more structured.
Would you say that listening to artists like New Radicals allows you to create albums that don't have to follow one specific theme or through line?
It reminds me to not get too hung up on detail, at the expense of the spirit being lost. There wasn't enough spirit on the previous record that I scrapped, and I could feel it. So that New Radicals record definitely reminded me of what that feels and sounds like.
“Are You Sure Hank Done It This Way” by Waylon Jennings
KEITH URBAN: I chose that song because again, Waylon is one of my other northern stars. It's interesting that Waylon is often forgotten for one of the biggest contributions he made in Nashville, which was using his road players on records, which really hadn't been done in this town. Everybody had to use court appointed producers and musicians and make your typical commercial Nashville records.
Waylon was really one of the first artists to come along and say, ‘I want to use my road bands. I'm going to make my records my way’. He fought really, really hard to do that, and now we don't even think twice about an artist that uses their road band in the studio, but Waylon was the first guy to do it, so those records have that live, raucous Roadhouse vibe about them, because that's his band.
That song is great because I've also been a big lover of the evolution of country music and that it should never just stay the same, I have an issue with traditionalists that want to become the arbiters of ‘What is country?’. I mean, first of all, no one has a right to say, ‘What is country?’ It's just absurd.
Waylon says in that song, “Lord, it's the same old tune, fiddle and guitar. Where do we take it from here? Rhinestone suits and new shiny cars. It's been the same way for years. We need to change.”
That's the opening statement of that song. It's pretty profound. I've never heard another country artist come along and say ‘Why do we keep doing and saying the same things over and over again? We need a change.’ It's a remarkable song just for that opening lyric.
BEST FIT: In country music, there's been pushback to change. As someone who's in the environment, do you feel like the change is happening regardless of what some critics may have to say?
Change has always been a part of country music. It's why it's been such an extraordinary, popular and resilient genre for decades and decades and decades. It's because we found this amazing balance of pioneering artists that are adamant to do it their own way, and getting just enough support to break through, like a Kacey Musgraves or a Zach Bryan or Waylon Jennings. God, even Willie Nelson was not accepted in this town because he was trying to make different kinds of music.
You know, it's like we've long forgotten that it's the same as it ever was. There's always been artists coming in wanting to do it on their own terms, fighting the system, breaking through, and then changing what the norm is. And this decade's no different.
“Easy On Me” by Adele
KEITH URBAN: I think I literally cried the first time I heard it, and I get emotional now thinking about it. I remember hearing it and feeling like this feels like the modern version of “Imagine” by John Lennon, in a similar way of going out to find a bit more of the commonality among all of us.
And that's a really courageous thing to say, because most writers would, first of all, probably remove themselves and go, ‘Hey, go easy on that person. That person's been through this, and that person's been through that.’ She takes it on personally and is the protagonist in the song, and she's not angry which is the other thing that everyone defaults to.
Most people would have more of a ‘Lay off me’ and she says, ‘Go easy on me.’ Oh, my God, for someone to say, ‘Can you please go easy on me? I was just a child. I didn't know what I was doing. I made mistakes, I was doing my best, and just go easy on me.’ That just breaks my heart in all the right ways.
BEST FIT: Is that something you agree on in terms of being the protagonist in your own music, so that way people can really understand where you're coming from?
I think the honesty in the song is what's important, the minimalism of the track. It's a beautiful recording. It's going age extremely well. In 30 years, 40 years, 50 years, it will sound exquisite, because there's really nothing on it that I hear right now that dates it and puts it of this time.
Greg Kurstin played everything on the track, he wrote it with Adele and produced it, so it doesn't have a lot of people trying to interpret a feeling. It's just got Greg and Adele, and I think they captured what they were trying to do so beautifully, so that if I do listen to it anytime, I'm going to be reminded of being honest, to be raw and if the song requires minimalism, just honour that.
“Last Plane Out” by Toy Matinee
BEST FIT: Where did you first hear this song and how were you introduced to it?
KEITH URBAN: I’m going to be brutally honest here with how this happened.
I was roommates with a recording engineer. It was among my early trips to Nashville, and he was working at a studio. He invited me to come down late one night, because he said he’d just bought this CD he wanted me to hear it, and we went into the studio. It was just him, he chopped up a bunch of lines of coke and he goes, ‘Hit that, and then listen to this.’
And then he put on “Last Plane Out” and it blew my mind, it was this sonic assault like I'd never heard before. And to this day, it still leaps out of the speakers with such an in-your-face power.
Honestly, it would have been a toss-up between that song or “Owner of a Lonely Heart” by Yes, because they both do the same thing, a kind of a sonic assault and stark angular arrangement moments that are just extraordinary. Both those recordings are really extraordinary.
“YUKON (INTERLUDE)” by Joji
He's an artist I've loved for a long time, and he put that song out early, before the whole album dropped. I was taken by the title to begin with, so I hit play, and then it opens up.
I love any song that starts with the word 'and' - 'And my eyes get low in that all-white truck, I can barely see shit.' It's so cinematic and the entire song is aching. I get it, like, I just get it. The images of attempting to do something that keeps being beyond the reach. ‘And the ‘circles at the chevron I might be forever gone” and “Speeding up on that all black demon.”
There are so many great poetic lines in there – just to call a road an ‘all black demon.’ I was like, ‘Oh, I love this fucking song.’ He's got lines in there - “I was thinking ‘bout us rearranging pieces” - lines like “rearranging pieces,” I haven't heard that in a song. And then half these lines like “circles at the chevron, I can't be forever young.”
I've spent 32 years now living in Nashville, so a Southern way of life is something I've really learned about. Chevron gas stations in small town America, when you've got nothing to do on a Friday night, you're in your car doing donuts, just circling around, zipping, mindless juvenile shit, because you're broken hearted, because you're struggling at home, whatever it is.
And that line with “Circles of the chevron, I can't be forever young,” it breaks my heart. “Empty choir operated from above / My voice will be their voice until I'm free / My hands will be their hands until I'm free” Good Lord, it's ambiguous but it's got so much feeling.
And the track itself is just stunning. I played that song over and over and over. I don't know how many times. I don't know what it was, it got under my skin in all the right ways.
I do a lot of my own lyrics, but I also love working with great storytellers, because I have strong skills in many areas, but maybe literary, colorful storytelling is not one of my strong areas. But, man, I recognise it when I see it and hear it in a song.
“Flame Trees” by Cold Chisel
KEITH URBAN: I just want to say, I've loved that song most of my life. When it came out, I was in high school or something and I've sung it a million times. It's one of my favorite, favorite songs, melodically and lyrically, it’s such a great song. And he's a legend.
BEST FIT: How did your collaboration with Jimmy Barnes of Cold Chisel come about in 2014? How did you meet?
I met Jimmy Barnes, I think in the early ‘90s. I went to his house, we spent a couple of days writing together and hanging out, and he's been a friend of mine ever since. So he sat in with me for some shows, and I've sat in with him and collaborated with him. An Aussie legend, for good reason.
When you collaborate with people how do you approach that?
I’m definitely a credit junkie and I've always been a credit junkie. If I find a name popping up repeatedly in different songs by different artists, I start to realise that person has got something.
Even to look at the credits of “Yukon Interlude” and look at Joji and Isaac Sleator (the co-writer), you could instantly go, ‘Oh, I'm going to work with Isaac. He must be amazing.’
But Joji factors into that. So if I see Isaac’s name pop up on multiple other songs by multiple artists then he'd be a guy to reach out to. I try and look for that reoccurring more than anything.
“She’s Out of My Life” by Michael Jackson
KEITH URBAN: When you asked me to put my Nine Songs together that affected me on different levels - emotionally, whatever it was - I was thinking that a lot of these tracks I've chosen are more to do with the song or the recording, or something or other.
I thought, ‘What are some emotional tracks?’ And the first one I could think of was hearing that song, and how Michael breaks up at the end. I remember as a kid hearing that, or whatever age I was hearing that, and going, ‘What? What just happened?’
I'm sure at the time I was feeling the same way, you know. It was whatever heartbreak from whatever girlfriend had just dumped me and that song just spoke to me, and his performance of it went right into me.
I guess I wasn't thinking like I do now, but I look back and I go, ‘Well, he was feeling that.’ I mean, it wasn't a performance. I was really feeling that he's been through that, and that's what I could relate to when I heard it.
BEST FIT: How has it changed for you over the years? When you listen to it now, compared to how you felt at the time, can you separate it from how you were feeling then?
It feels pretty similar I think, because he captured a feeling that is timeless. Heartbreak, loss, loneliness, regret, isolation, all of that. All of those feelings that are just human. I think he and Quincy Jones did an incredible job of capturing that.
“I Don’t Know What it is” by Rufus Wainwright
This song by Rufus was definitely one I played over and over and over and over and actually I'm not sure why. It just spoke to me. It's so exquisite melodically and it's epic in its construct. It's an extraordinary record. I could have chosen “Bohemian Rhapsody” for a similar reason, in that it's so full of drama it's like a mini movie.
And I love the line “I don't know what it is, but you got to do it / I don't know where to go, but you got to be there.” Rufus has a great way of capturing that strange thing about being human, when you feel like you're just a little bit out on the fringes and you want to be in the center, but you don't quite know how to get there,
I thought it was such a fresh take to say, “I don't know what it is, but you got to do it.” I was in from the very opening line. And then, of course, the melody is just beautiful. I played Oliver in the school production of Oliver! and it reminded me of some of those songs from that era.
They're show tunes, you know, the melody is grand and exquisite. It's exquisite melody, lyric and record making, all coming together in a really fine, fine package.
I remember flying to New Zealand. My grandmother lived in New Zealand, she was the last grandparent, and for some reason I stumbled upon that record somewhere in that time. It was about maybe an hour and a half drive from Auckland up to Tonga Ray, where my grandmother lived, and I would arrive in Auckland.
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