About That Song: The MilBillies
About That Song #14
In our special series, singer-songwriter Sarah Morris interviews artists about the songs that shaped them.
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.
In the 14th edition of our special series, I spoke with Eben Flood and Joe Wais of The MilBillies, a high-energy modern bluegrass quintet from Wisconsin who are on the lineup of the inaugural Amerigrass festival, about gamechanger songs in their songwriting paths.
The MilBillies. Photo courtesy of the artists.
Sarah: Hi Eben and Joe!
We’re all excited The MilBillies are coming to hang out with Adventures in Americana in person so soon, as part of the inaugural Amerigrass festival at the Hook and Ladder Theater in Minneapolis! I’d love to talk about songs that served as steppingstones along your musical journey. Do you remember the song that you heard that made you want to be a songwriter? Tell us about that song.
Eben Flood: For a very long time, I thought the perfect song was “Christmas Card from a Hooker in Minneapolis” (Tom Waits, 1978). It has all the character, place, emotion and narrative arc of a short story—folded into four and a half minutes of Waits’s best after-hours acoustic piano. The chord progression and melody are as familiar as an old pair of boots, the bridge actually functions as a narrative and emotional transition, and the arrangement is as spare as the narrator’s life. Waits constructs an ecosystem of pathos and would-be redemption that clangs with shimmer and piss. Part of the genius is you don’t notice there's no rhyme until the final couplet caps it off like a sonnet.
Sarah: Ooh, I’ll admit I’d never listened to that song before, but I fixed that! It has this short-story elegance about it. I can absolutely understand how it would be that song for someone.
Joe Wais: I have an eclectic mix of influences from the different “eras” of my life (sorry Taylor Swift). It’s tough to pinpoint that one song, but for myself I would say it’s a compilation of moments in hearing different music that just grabs my ear and makes me want to listen over and over again. A good hook is key for me, too. It could be anything from some George Strait like “Carrying Your Love With Me” to the harmonies on “Helplessly Hoping” by Crosby, Stills and Nash.
My not-so-guilty pleasure is pop punk music, too, so throw some Blink or New Found Glory or My Chemical Romance into the mix as well. I have a classical and jazz music background too, so I can run the gamut there from Rachmaninoff to Bill Evans. All the classic rock dudes are huge for me as well, Tom Petty, CCR, Ry Cooder. All of the above either have great lyrics or great hooks. They don’t overdo anything; they’re not trying too hard; their personality just shines from their writing and that’s what is most important to me.
The MilBillies. Photo courtesy of the artists.
Sarah: Musically, you’ve been everywhere! I appreciate the broad scope of your listening. And oh boy, “Carrying Your Love With Me”—that is one of those gold-standard country songs for me, just insanely singable, stays with you for days. I’m wondering—once you each began writing, did you feel like you could call yourself a songwriter immediately? Was there a song that gave you that “a-HA! I AM a songwriter!” moment? Tell us about that song.
Eben: I still don't really identify as a songwriter, although it’s the only writing I do these days. I think words are a drug that’s pumped into the atmosphere, and some people are intoxicated by it, and some of those get hooked. I can stay up all night writing a few sentences or verses, delete them all, and the next morning feel like that was the best use of my time. Or binge on some new-to-me writer I’m excited about. And when words are set to melody and harmony—that’s celestial. I like feeling like I’m in conversation with all the songs that came before me. So I think of tropes as helpful constraints, like rhymes, colors or tools. But I run the risk of being cliché.
Sarah: I love the notion of being in conversation with all the previous songs of the universe!
Eben: I’m curious to hear what Joe says, but he definitely brings songs to the table that he wrote specifically for The MilBillies, and they play to our strengths and are really fun to play. For lyrics, I think he usually hews a little closer to his life than I do to mine. His chord progressions stretch further, and his melodic sensibility is enviable. My songwriting has improved by learning his songs, and by working on all of our material as a group.
Joe: Oh man, I remember writing my first song in seventh grade. A little four-chord sad-boy song called “I Can't Seem to Figure You Out.” I think I only played it for my sister, I was so embarrassed to show anyone. It took me years before I started to become comfortable sharing my songwriting with anyone. But what I did realize with that song is that I could write music. You didn’t need any sort of training or anything; you could just sit down, string some chords and words together, and start creating right then and there. I thought that was super cool.
Sarah: Yes! “Did you write a song? You’re a songwriter!” Nowadays, that’s my personal standard of measure.
The MilBillies. Photo courtesy of the artists.
Eben: Our other bandmates (mandolinist Matt Brey, banjo player Dan Shaw and bassist Pat Zimmer) are great songwriters as well. I do think that songwriting is one of our strengths as a band. There are so many great pickers out there, it's hard not to get down on myself for not being a better player. The only reason I’m not too ashamed to walk onto the stage with these guys is because I wrote a couple halfway decent songs, and because they haven’t fired me yet.
I think the first time we felt like a band creating songs together was an earlier tune Joe wrote called “Hoods”—I still remember the first time that came together in Dan’s garage, and it felt like, “Holy shit—that's our sound!” We each brought our thing to it, and that's been our process ever since.
Sarah: Your admiration for the strengths your bandmates bring to the table is palpable. And I imagine that comes across onstage. You’ve said that in performance, you all “trade vocals like a fifth of bourbon.” I’d love to hear how that impacts the songwriting process. When you begin a song, is the intention to include a multitude of voices, or do you save those decisions for rehearsal or recording?
Joe: It's really about trading different songs and getting the whole band involved. Eben and I take the lead on most of the songwriting and singing, but we write our live sets to make sure everyone gets a go at singing lead. We like to shake things up that way and get everyone involved. We also just like good bourbon.
Sarah: Yes. A good bourbon is a good thing! Also, good songs are good things.
Eben: I mean, it’s easier to sing the songs you wrote than it is for someone else to learn them. But we also try to do whatever serves the song. With one song from our first record—“Country Lane”—we were in the studio and I just couldn't hit the notes; it was pretty bad, for god knows how many takes. Finally I asked Joe to take a crack at it, and he nailed it on the first take. It's not hard to hate a guy like that. Since then, he sings it when we play it live, and the world is better for it.
For “Wisconsin Rain,” which will be on the album we’re releasing soon, we kept trying it out at practice, but it was just lacking, and I didn’t think it was a problem with the music or lyrics. There’s only so long you can beat a horse before it occurs to you to try a different rider. So I passed it off to Joe, who breathed life into it. Aside from being a better singer, he continually teaches me that there’s more to leading a song than knowing the words.
As for harmonies, that’s a mixed bag. We know a bunch of bands that really slay those, and I don’t know if they’re just naturally good at that, or if they work at it, probably both, but it’s never been automatic for us. When we do them, sometimes the writer planned the parts ahead and brought that to the table; other times it’s fleshed out in practice or in the studio.
Sarah: Last question: Your recent single, “Katie Up The Street”—can you tell us about that song?
Joe: “Katie Up The Street” is a song about being stuck, about wanting something you can't have and being forced to settle. It’s loosely based on some relationship experiences from a couple years ago, which is what the words tell you on the nose, but it’s deeper than that. It’s about being stuck in my apartment during COVID; it’s about being stuck at a day job I hated during the pandemic; it’s about feeling trapped and not being able to do anything about it. I wanted to conjure up my old punk influences here as I was feeling angsty at the time. It was a great opportunity to just get the lead out as they say, and get as close as I could to my teenage dreams of being in a punk band.
Sarah: Thank you so much, Joe and Eben! We’re looking forward to hearing you soon at Amerigrass!
Listen to “Katie Up The Street”
Credits for “Katie Up The Street”
Music and Lyrics by Joe Wais
Recorded by The MilBillies
Fiddle/Vocals - Joe Wais
Guitar - Eben Flood
Mandolin - Matt Brey
Banjo - Dan Shaw
Bass - Pat Zimmer
Recorded at Silver City Studios, Milwaukee, WI
Studio Engineer/Mixing Engineer - Chuck Zink
Mastered by Justin Perkins, Mystery Room Mastering
AUTHOR: SARAH MORRIS
Sarah Morris. Photo credit: Tom Smouse.
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.
