
Shelby Lynne
a.k.a.
Shelby Lynne Moorer
I AM, SHE SAID Shelby Lynne Defines Herself Beyond the Confines of Country
It didn't take long for the first great album of the 21st century to show up. It's called I AM SHELBY LYNNE, and while it is certain to draw comparisons to Dusty Springfield's classic DUSTY IN MEMPHIS, longtime Nashville denizen Shelby Lynne is clearly more interested in breaking her own mold than slipping into Dusty's. Shedding her country roots, Lynne embraces her inner soul child, wrapping her sultry voice around ornate southern R&B, razor-edged rock, spare, acoustic-driven folk-blues, and even jazz balladry. The result is a proud, self-assured declaration of independence -- call it a rebirth, even -- from an artist who has taken six albums to find a perfect sound. It's a sound that transcends the scars of a harsh life (Lynne's father shot and killed her mother, then committed suicide). Her stories of pain, anger, deceit, and faithlessness are redeemed in hook-saturated country-soul. Caught sunning and reading at her home in Palm Springs, CA, Lynne spoke to bn.com's David McGee about the story behind I AM SHELBY LYNNE.
barnesandnoble.com: From the opening drums of "Your Lies" -- they sound like cannon shots -- you really announce that this is a very different record than any you've made before.
Shelby Lynne: Yes, very different. We wrote ["Your Lies"] late in the recording process, and when I recorded it, it became this big-sounding thing. When I heard it back I said, "We can't put this in the middle of the record, so let's open with it. Let's go all out, full balls."
bn.com: When you decided to do this project, what did you want to do that you hadn't been able to do on your Nashville albums?
SL: First of all I wanted to write the record. And I wanted to include all of my other influences that I hadn't been able to do in Nashville. More of an R&B, soul feel. It wasn't guided or directed that way, but it happened that way. I really had an affirmation that soul music is what I love.
bn.com: What did your producer, Bill Bottrell, bring to this project?
SL: The biggest part for me was the approach to the whole recording process, which was something I was so ready to do completely different from the Nashville days. It was an easygoing method, really heart and soul and feelings. And we recorded the record where we were at the time. No fancy stuff, no sessions, no best musicians, no "Oh, these are the A players." We just did it ourselves because we wanted a real album. It was one year to the day in the making. It was all where we were, and that was the beauty of making the record -- doing it where and when it hit us.
bn.com: There's a lot of phrases that jump out that are born of pain, anger, disappointment. And yet I find this album really uplifting. Am I having too much fun at your expense?
SL: [Laughs] No, I think you're right on it. I've lived every line of this record, or I'm living it now. That's the cool part about it: There's nothing on the record that hasn't happened to me. I find it fun too; it's definitely fun to perform it. I'm a stage hog; I love it.
bn.com: The album, despite your lyrics, has something of a romantic feel. The strings, especially, give it that ambience.
SL: That's my favorite part of the record, the strings. It's really a miracle, how they happened so great. They fit it so well. That's George Del Barrio in Los Angeles; he's really brilliant. But we decided to do the strings in Memphis. I didn't want a Nashville sound, didn't want an L.A. sound. Memphis is heavily rooted in the great records that I love. It had a southern feel to it; you know I wanted Mark Twain strings, really real.
bn.com: You've had enough drama in your personal life and had some misfortune professionally, even though your work has been well received critically. Do you generally feel optimistic?
SL: Yeah, I do. I probably think too much, period, about everything. But, mmm, on the whole, I can dig it. It's not got me down too bad.
bn.com: What about the Nashville experience? When you look back on those years, what does it seem like to you?
SL: I think I was kinda like a black sheep. That's what I feel. Don't get me wrong -- I have a lot of great friends there that know me well and understand why I didn't work in the Nashville system. I'm not even going to say I didn't work in the Nashville system. I made a living, have the respect of my peers, and I'm not ashamed of the records I made -- even though I don't really listen to them. It's not that they're bad songs, but I wish they had said a little more about me personally. Singing a song about a secretary, for God's sake, doesn't make much sense. If I could go back and change anything, it would be to cut songs that had more to do with my experience. I had to be able to be free, and it's a little confining, the record-making process there. I just felt that that was where I was supposed to be.
bn.com: Is there anything coming out of Nashville now that you like?
SL: Well, to be honest, I don't listen to anything. I have a select group of old records I listen to and occasionally pick up a new thing. I listen to Al Green and Chet Baker, oh, several things, timeless classics. Music that's not gonna change and makes me feel good.
bn.com: Does this album still hold up for you when you listen to it?
SL: It does. I'm proud of it. Sometimes it's hard for me to believe I can still dig it, but I do. And that was one of the goals in making it.
David McGee




