About That Song: Susan Werner
Hi! I’m Sarah Morris. I’m wildly in love with songs and the people who write them. There have been a few songs in my life that have been total gamechangers—songs that made me want to be a songwriter and songs I’ve written that made me feel like I am a songwriter. About That Song is a space where I can learn more about those pivotal songs in other writers’ lives.
For our 42nd edition, I was thrilled to connect with the amazing songwriter Susan Werner to talk about tracks from her new album and other influential songs in her life.
Sarah: Hi Susan! Congrats on the recent release of your album Halfway to Houston. I had the good fortune to be paired with you through a speed mentorship program at a Folk conference a few years back, which meant we got to stand in the October sunshine in a parking lot by a car that belonged to neither one of us. I was grateful for your time and conversation then, and I’m excited to dig a little bit into the story behind some of the more impactful songs in your own writerly journey. Do you remember the song that you heard that made you want to be a songwriter? Tell us about that song.
Susan: “A Case of You,” Joni MItchell, circa 1983. I was 18. I heard it for the first time and thought “Oh, that's what it's like to be an adult.” It was just that simple.
Sarah: Yes, with a song like that, it can be that simple. Once you began writing, did you feel like a writer immediately? It took me a few years of writing before I believed it—was there a song that gave you that “a-HA! I AM a songwriter!” moment? Tell us about that song.
Susan: I wrote a song called "Maybe If I Sang Cole Porter" when I was in graduate school at Temple U in Philly, and my voice teacher asked me to sing it. After I was done he said, “You came here to be a singer, but you might be in the wrong line of work.” As in, really you should be a writer.
Sarah: Turns out you can be both! Also, I love that title! In the title song of your new album, “Halfway to Houston,” you do such an excellent job revealing just a bit of the story with each passing line, before solidly landing the gut punch at the very end of the song, with the “Folgers Instant” revelation. I’m calling it a gut punch both because I love good coffee, AND because the hook and the final line both hit me in that classic-country-songcraft-goodness way. Can you tell us about that song?
Susan: There’s a long history of feel-good breakup songs in country music.
Sarah: Yes! It should be an official subgenre. My favorite subgenre.
Susan: They have a happy little groove while telling what is not the most happy story. There’s a general sense of “Isn’t that how it goes, you know?” My first pass at it had the love object of the singer returning to her, but my friend Ann from Wharton, Texas said “What if she didn’t turn around and come back?” and I liked that idea a lot. I was hoping for some giant revelation at the end of the song, but what kept coming back to me was the idea that instant coffee is about the saddest thing ever invented, and maybe that’s sad enough for a feel-good breakup song like this.
Sarah: It IS sad enough (says this coffee lover!). Another song off the new album, “Tiny Texans,” hit me melodically like a valentine, while the lyrics call out some of the very real political challenges/divide that…our whole country is experiencing, but perhaps Texas has been in the news for it a bit more? As a listener I was deeply moved, and as a writer I was in awe—how did Susan do that? Hold that both/and tension so well? Can you tell us about that song?
Susan: I’m a huge fan of Kurt Weill and Berthold Brecht, who wrote The Threepenny Opera and other theatrical works of Weimar and pre-WWII Germany. They often juxtaposed the cheerful with the anything-but—it’s a style probably best summed up in the United States by Kander & Ebb’s score for the musical Cabaret. The idea is to set the cheerful next to the dreadful, and the juxtaposition of those things is what gives the moment its impact. Seemed like the right way to speak to this weird moment. Current Texas politics feature some absolutely breathtakingly awful policies. Having family (including toddlers) growing up in Texas, I hope to god the state changes for the better.
Sarah: The Weill/Brecht influence makes total sense, ah! Any time I’ve had the chance to visit Texas, I’ve come away with some very big (lone) stars in my eyes. Your album feels like a love letter—I’m curious if the concept came first, or if there was a song that you wrote that started you down the Halfway to Houston path?
Susan: I was driving from Houston down to Corpus Christi to visit my nephew and his family—they'd just moved there from Arizona—and I started working on the song “Corpus,” about the weird and wonderful of it, and all of a sudden I knew in my gut “Oh—this is the next concept album. Texas. Yup.” Because, number one, Texas is someplace I don’t really know very well so there’s lots to discover and, number two, there’s a musical tradition to draw upon.
It’s always a good feeling when I land on the next concept, but it’s also a feeling of “Oh, no, now I’m going to have to write it and I know it’s going to take a year and a half.” Blessing and a curse. Someone said “If you know how the journey’s going to turn out, why bother?” I was surprised to find how much I loved the landscape, especially West Texas—that was all a revelation to me. Marfa, Alpine, Marathon, Big Bend, Terlingua, also El Paso—loved loved loved it.
Sarah: Now I’d like to dream up an album that means I have to do a bunch of traveling, too! In her book Big Magic, Elizabeth Gilbert talks a bit about that part of the process—both the whisper “Do this, it’s time” and the simultaneous realization of “oh boy, here we go!” I know you have some Midwest shows coming up in the next bit of time, I hope you enjoy those travels, too. Thank you for stopping by, Susan!
Midwest readers, you’ve got two chances to see Susan this month! She’s coming to Cedar Cultural Center in Minneapolis on Friday April 26 and to Vivarium in Milwaukee on Sunday, April 28, both with with the extremely talented Peter Mulvey.
Listen to “Halfway to Houston”
Halfway to Houston Album Credits
©℗2024 Susan Werner • All songs ©2023 Susan Werner (Frank Chance Music, ASCAP) except: Sisters ©2023, by Susan Werner and Tish Hinojosa (Manazo Music, ASCAP) • Tiny Texans ©2023, by Susan Werner and Sara Hickman (Le Petite Bonheur Music, BMI) • Welcome! ©2023, by Susan Werner and Southpaw Jones (Freshly Picked Music, BMI) • Produced by Mike (SloMo) Brenner, John Anthony and Erik Johnson
Recorded by John Anthony at Gradwell Studios, Haddon Heights NJ • Erik Johnson at High Hill Studios, Downingtown PA • Austin TX recording: Marvin Dykhuis • Mixed by John Anthony • Mastered by Tom Volpicelli
Susan Werner, vocals, acoustic guitars • Mike (SloMo) Brenner, dobro & lap steel • John Cunningham, bass • Mark Schreiber, drums • Jim Cohen, pedal steel • Kevin Hanson, electric guitars • Erik Johnson, drums, bass, accordion • Eliza Jones, backing vocals • Dan Nosheny, accordion • Chip Dolan, accordion • John Anthony, percussion • Clay Sears, mandolin, high string and electric guitars • Guest vocal on Sisters, Tish Hinojosa • Photo editing: Scott Montgomery • Graphic Design: Natalia Zukerman •Tour sponsor: Lame Horse Instruments (www.lamehorse.net), Austin TX, Chris and Jeremy Jenkins • Album promotion: Ellen Stanley, EFS Publicity • Booking: Lara Supan, Midwood Entertainment • Management: Patty Romanoff, Bulletproof Artists
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Sarah Morris is a superfan of songs and the people who write them, and a believer that certain songs can change your life. A singer-songwriter / mama / bread maker / coffee drinker who recently released her fifth album of original material, she’s been known to joyfully sing with people in her Big Green Bathroom.