Still true to herself
Singer Shelby Lynne resists conformity, continues on eclectic career path
Here's a conundrum: What's a musician to do when the two driving forces in her artistic life are perpetually at odds? This is Shelby Lynne's burden, and she's carried it with various degrees of grace and bitterness (depending on when you catch her) for 20 years.
From the beginning, Lynne has craved commercial success. She's unabashed about wanting platinum records and masses of fans. At the same time, Lynne has resisted jumping through the hoops that might make her dreams of stardom come true. She's refused to settle into a sound, or even pursue a musical direction.
But when the stars align just so - and they did during a phone conversation a few weeks ago - the singer and songwriter steps back, takes stock, and sounds downright content with her lot.
"I live in a beautiful house in a beautiful place and make the records I want to make," says Lynne from her home in Palm Springs, Calif. "I don't have to be repeating a particular style, because I've never had a hit record. Sometimes I'm satisfied and sometimes I go 'Damn.' Yeah, I get frustrated. But I've accepted that things are what they're supposed to be. I'm very grateful for my career."
Lynne's winding musical road began in Nashville, in 1988. The singer was 18, already married and divorced, and her killer way with a country song (not to mention blues, Southern soul, Western swing, and jazz) earned her plenty of respect. But Lynne's strong will didn't inspire much affection on notoriously patriarchal Music Row. Ten years and several high-profile brushes with the law later, Lynne returned to her home state of Alabama to regroup, in the bargain reinventing herself as a roots-rock singer-songwriter.
It seems somehow emblematic that in 2000 "I Am Shelby Lynne" - the artist's sixth album - earned her the Best New Artist Grammy. She was finally in control, which meant the second decade of Lynne's career would be as eclectic, critically lauded, and hard to market as the first: She's made a slick rock album, a self-penned survey of American popular music (aptly titled "Identity Crisis"), a set of loose, intimate demos, and this year's "Just a Little Lovin', " a lean, elegant reworking of songs recorded by the great white soul singer Dusty Springfield. Lynne will perform Wednesday at the Somerville Theatre.
"I'm a fan of singers who make me believe. That's what got me about Dusty," says Lynne. "She's so vulnerable and so strong, too. That's what makes a great woman, and especially a great woman singer. It takes a lot of strength to tell those heartbreaking stories and to live that kind of life."
Living life and telling the stories come naturally to Lynne; the trick was to turn a collection of iconic songs made famous by one of pop's most revered vocalists into a Shelby Lynne album. She spent a year mulling over the idea, suggested by her Palm Springs neighbor Barry Manilow. The prospect was daunting, Lynne says, but she relishes a challenge. When the time came to choose a producer, Lynne turned to veteran Phil Ramone, best known for landmark pop-rock projects with Paul Simon, Billy Joel, and Barbra Streisand.
In addition to assembling a seasoned session band and shaping the album's spare, genteel arrangements - which couldn't be more different from the lush orchestrations on Springfield's records - Ramone "held us all together. He held me together," says Lynne, who has a reputation as a notoriously prickly artist.
"Shelby doesn't throw tantrums," Ramone says. "She gets very sullen and goes off into the corner and curls up with the dog and looks at me. There's a sadness in both girls, but in Dusty's case it was covered up in glitz and lights and large orchestras. With Shelby, you have to sit and talk, to gain trust and confidence long before the work begins, and create an atmosphere where pride and ego isn't threatened. She's as critical of her work as anyone. When things didn't feel right we just moved on."
Moving on is a theme that has resonated through Lynne's life, which may explain why she speaks about her longtime audience with reverence. Her set list is composed with her fans' preferences in mind, and she frets about the burden high gas prices add to the cost of a concert ticket.
"I give them all of the songs they want to hear, an hour-and-a-half or two hours if they still want to listen," Lynne says. "I've got loyalty that's unheard of. People have stuck with me for 20 years, through thick and thin, and like any relationship it goes both ways."
And yet the big splash that Lynne, now 39, has been poised to make at so many points along the way hasn't materialized. Still, Ramone believes the future looks bright.
"I think our lives go in funny cycles," he says. "Sometimes you burn it up, do really well in the first 10 years, and then are doing reruns. I think hers is yet to come."
Meanwhile, Lynne is writing voraciously and brainstorming about what she might do next. "Just a Little Lovin' " is without a doubt her most fluid, cogent album yet. But consistency isn't her strong suit. Asked what sounds she's drawn to these days, the answer is: all of them.
"It comes out just a big, confusing melodrama. Nothing matches. It's all over the place and I have to wrangle it. That's the hard part," Lynne says. "How do I wrap up this package?"
Joan Anderman can be reached at anderman@globe.com. For more on music, visit boston.com/ae/music/blog.
