Robin Adler and Dave Blackburn Breathe Spirit and Soul into the Music of Joni Mitchell

by Annie Dru
San Diego Troubadour
February 10, 2010

Fallbrook? They live in Fallbrook? Is that even in this county? Turns out it is. Way, way up interstate 15, past Escondido but before Temecula, you exit at a ramp leading to a four-way stop in the otherwise pristine rolling hills and drive down a winding country road several miles to a little white wooden bridge. If you're lucky enough to have someone waiting to wave you down and guide you in like I was, you'll drive a bit farther, through eucalyptus trees, across crunchy gravel, and end up parked in front of Dave Blackburn and wife Robin Adler's recording studio "whew, made it" and then "ah, this is beautiful."

The property is gorgeous, with a modern-style dwelling made of stucco sitting up on a rise where Robin's mother lives, and, down a slope, a darling and very old cottage divided into a duplex accommodating Robin and Dave on one side, and Robin's uncle on the other. This is where Robin grew up, and after years away, this is where she and Dave decided to make their home, build their recording studio, and create their music.

They greeted me warmly - Dave, in his friendly, but slightly reserved British fashion, and Robin like a long lost cousin from a mid-western memory. After the photographer, who happens to be a friend, suggested that we all pose together for some shots for her personal album, we chatted briefly to "get acquainted" then down to business we got. I let them know up front that they were being interviewed for what my editor calls "the sweetheart issue" and that I'd be wanting some straight talk about the intimacy of making music with your lover; the conflicts (raised voices, slamming doors, tears, broken guitar strings, etc.) as well as the exalted moments, when the passion that burns for one's partner intersects with one's passion for making music. I wanted the juicy stuff. They looked slightly suspicious, but nodded anyway, and we began.

Robin started "It's challenging; we definitely get into some... tiffs, if you will. But on this Joni Mitchell project, we've been doing great; it's very collaborative; he'll listen to me, I listen to him." Dave responds "We've had this band for four years now. Robin said to me 'Wouldn't it be fun to do a gig where we did just Joni Mitchell music?' because we're both life-long fans. So I thought, yeah, that would be great. The next thing I know, she's booked a gig about two months down the line, and we haven't even begun yet, haven't learned any music! Well, that lit a fire and we had to get busy. Now, four years have gone by and we've done a lot of material; done our own arrangements, traveled; we went to England last year, and we plan to go this year to England and Scandinavia to play." I asked if there are big Joni Mitchell fans in Europe, and Dave said, "Well certainly in England. We have contacts, so we'd like to do some house concerts there."

Robin continues "We're really a big part of the online Joni Mitchell fan community. Her website is maintained by fans; the JMDL, or Joni Mitchell discussion list. The way we got hooked in, is that when we did our first Joni concert in Fallbrook, somebody from the JMDL saw the notice in the Fallbrook paper [they're constantly searching the internet to see if anyone's doing anything] and that's how they discovered us and started listing our concerts on the front page. It's like belonging to AA or something; if you're in England, or wherever, there's likely to be a group of people interested in attending a Joni Mitchell tribute concert."

I asked how that first gig went, which they only had two months to prepare for. Dave said "Well, looking back it was pretty rough, but at the time it went over, and was really popular, it was packed." Robin adds, "It's the most popular musical thing we've ever done."

I asked how they decided which Joni songs to do that first show. Dave said, "We just kind of went with what we liked, and what we could pull together in a short time." Robin adds, "We decided to do a chronology of her music just to show the breadth of her artistry. It was kind of educational; in fact all of our concerts have a little bit of that because we talk about her. It's interesting because we do the early stuff, the stuff when she's going into the jazz period, and we do the obscure, unpopular jazz repertoire. Even though Joni Mitchell fans came to the concert, they really learned something, even about her music. There are people who followed her to a certain point and then didn't like the direction [she went] but at every concert people come up and say 'I heard things I've never heard.' It reignited their interest."

Dave pipes in, "A lot of people haven't listened to that stuff in 30 years, so it's like hearing it done live in front of them again. We've had people say that they consider themselves big Joni fans, but that they hadn't heard some of those songs, and that they were going to go out and buy the record. We want a kick back!"

Knowing how complicated "some of those songs" are, and how many bad-ass players recorded on the recordings, I asked what the line-up was for that first show. Dave responded, "Well, we had a four-piece band originally, and it was a tiny room; it would only hold 90 people, and we packed in 90 people elbow to elbow. But quite quickly the line-up started to expand, and we got players that were seasoned jazz musicians that could read really well, and solo really well. It's become more of a jazz outfit, because we can stretch on the material now; songs that didn't have any improvised sections, now we bring those in and use them as platforms for taking it somewhere." [To Robin] "We could play her Woodstock maybe..." Robin volunteered a caveat, "It's a long version."

Dave sets it up: "So this arrangement came about as an idea of Robin's. It's almost like a screenplay; you're walking along the road towards the festival, and you meet a fellow traveler along the way. You're in this kind of trippy headspace and as you get closer to the festival itself, it starts to get louder and bigger, and pretty soon you're enveloped by the sound."

At this point Robin interjects, "Now, this is a live version recorded at a Joni Mitchell festival in Idyllwild." As the tape begins to roll, in one of those freakish coincidences, a very loud helicopter from outside the studio hovers in the general vicinity, precisely at the moment a beautiful, unearthly electric guitar tone begins to sound; just a few eerily sustained notes. I ask, "Who's that on guitar?" Dave responds in a humble and self-effacing tone, "I'm the guitarist." The guitar is slowly joined by the bass and then the keyboards; everything very transparent and very open, and jazzy... and then... and then... the voice. My ears do a double take, because although their voices are clearly different, Robin's phrasing and slow, wide, and loose vibrato, her clear musical intention and command of her instrument mirror the brilliance of Joni's.

I catch my breath so I can listen without even the distraction of my own breathing, because, quite above and beyond the similarity, the quality of Robin's voice is so present, so skillful, so completely without artifice that it captivates me in an instant. I can honestly say that I wasn't in the least prepared for the "world class-ness" of Robin's voice before I heard it. "And we've got to get ourselves, back into the ga-ar-ar-ar-ar-den." She pauses, and the guitar, bass and keyboards are joined by the drums, and some very tasty '70s style jazz solos ensue.

And then... what's this... "Pinball Wizard?" Yes! Dave's voice joins the fray, "Ever since I was a young boy..." The crowd cheers wildly. Robin and her back-up singer join him on "...sure plays a mean pinball!" Then she's alone again, and with a new Grace Slick-like growl, she sings, "By the time we got to Woodstock, we were a half a million strong." Switching again to Joni's angelic tone to sing the last, ethereal "...back into the garden." There's a pause, then the final chord from the band that seems to suspend itself above the crowd for an eternity before the drums crash, and, after a long moment of silence, you hear the very audible appreciation of the audience. Wow, I'm stunned.

What next? They run off the stage past security and into a waiting helicopter to be airlifted out of the mob? Not quite... It's Robin's voice in the microphone again, "We're going to take a break... there's dessert... and we'll be back." "Homey touch," says Dave drolly. "Dessert for half a million of you... we'll buy." He pauses and then says, "So anyway, that's what kind of a live band it is; pretty jam-y. It's jazz people when we want to do that, or rock when we want to do that."

I then attempt to get some background information on each of them singly and as a musical unit, as I didn't come to this interview knowing much beyond their reputation for being top flight musicians in this community. "Are you both songwriters?" Dave says, "Myself more than Robin. I've actually written a book about songwriting; I used to teach at Mira Costa College. I was teaching a songwriting course, and I couldn't find a text book that I liked, so I wrote it. I thought 'well, what do I know about this' so I sat down and wrote it. I've been writing songs since I was about 14 or 15."

I ask Robin the same question "Well, I didn't even get into music until I was in my thirties. I was married before to a saxophone player, and that was my introduction to jazz. I didn't sing in school or anything, but one time I was singing along to a Joni Mitchell record, and a girlfriend heard me and said, 'You should sing.' I was doing massage therapy at the time as a career, but she really encouraged me, so I went to a community college and took some classes, and then studied with a private singer; this was up in L.A. When my first marriage ended and I moved back down here and started attending Mira Costa College..." Now I could see where this was going. "I just took music classes; theory, and while I was there, someone at the college asked me to sing on their song in a songwriting competition. That's how I met Dave; he entered one of his songs, and we met in the green room. I had a little reggae hat on, because I was singing a reggae song... I guess he thought that was cute. He had a girlfriend at the time, but years later..." Dave corrects her, "A year later." "Okay, a year later; they had split up, and that's when Dave and I got together, but to answer your question, I'm really not much of a songwriter. I've written some lyrics, but my emphasis has been voice."

I asked if she ever sang any of Dave's original material. He responds, "We've done some, but I'm more of an opportunistic songwriter; when there's a project that needs a song, I'll write it, but I don't just sort of sit down and write songs anymore; I used to when I was younger."

"When Dave and I first got together, I was working with [jazz guitarist] Peter Sprague; that wasn't Dave's genre so much, so we really didn't work together. On occasion we would; he's a drummer as well as a guitar player, but I was really involved with that project. It was a huge undertaking for me, because I was so green, and I was in this group with the top jazz musicians in San Diego. Peter had heard me singing, and I guess he liked it, even though I was green, green! He sort of took me under his wing. Jazz isn't something you just pick up like a guitar and start; it's pretty complex instrumentally and vocally."

I asked how she and Dave came to work together as a team. Dave says, "We would do jazz gigs, usually with me playing drums; a trio or something like that." Robin adds, "Mostly, we did casuals, so we did variety music; weddings and things... covers."

Dave expounds, "My ambition in life has always been to produce, make records, and so, I've cultivated a roster of people like Peggy Watson and Joe Rathburn. That's kind of my love, being in the studio, recording." Robin interjects, "Performing is not his thing; that's one reason drums were comfortable for him, although now that he's playing guitar in this band..." Dave continues, "Well, I always played guitar. I used to have a solo gig when I was 16 back in England, at a local pub. I'd walk across a plowed field with my guitar and play unamplified, no microphone, and sing in this pub. I wasn't old enough to even be in there, and the owner paid me in beer, which still works. I'd play my own stuff, and Stevie Wonder tunes." He directs the next comment toward Robin, "I think I tried to do a Joni Mitchell song once..."

He continues, "As time went on, I made drums my performing instrument, and guitar became my arranging, writing instrument. When we got going on this project... well, the guitar responsibility when you do Joni Mitchell is pretty huge. You can't just call somebody up and say, 'Do you mind playing guitar in our Joni Mitchell band?' because you have to have about five or six guitars in different tunings, and it's a huge undertaking to learn these songs in the correct tunings. It's much easier to hire a drummer than to hire a guitar player; besides, we sometimes do this show as a duo. It was obvious that I was going to have to be playing guitar."

I ask how many guitars Dave takes on stage with him. "Well I have four, but I often borrow one or two more, just so there isn't a bunch of down time. It's really hard on the guitars to be constantly changing tuning, and I hate down time in a show; it's one thing to chat with the audience, but if you have to tune, 'duh duh duh duh duh...' If you ever heard any bootlegs of early Joni from '67, '68... it's a five minute song, and then three or four minutes of tuning. It's torture to listen to."

I mention the only guitar player I've ever heard that makes the tuning process part of the show in an entertaining way. "You mean David Wilcox?" Dave asks. I said, 'No, but you're right, he does, and I'm a big fan.' This led to a several-minute chat about Wilcox, who happens to be a favorite, followed by a reference to another of their favorites I was unfamiliar with. "We're big Jonatha Brooke fans too; she's an equal part of that singer/songwriter, advanced guitarist, great vocal chops..."

"Are those the kinds of songs that you write Dave - folkie, storytelling songs?" I ask. "Well, yeah, when the situation calls for it. I've written a lot of instrumental jazz stuff, I've written what they call 'library music,' which is kind of like stock photography; you write cues that get used in television, and you don't necessarily know where they will be used, but you write music within a certain genre that gets key tags, so that a movie or TV producer who's looking for something suspenseful can find your stuff. I've done orchestral music for that; I've written music for plays. It's kind of what the situation calls for, but because I play guitar, I'll often get into that sort of James Taylor-y kind of mode; I love chords, I grew up with Stevie Wonder, so I'm often looking for hip chord progressions."

Robin proudly highlights her man, "Dave is just a wonderful musician, and he does know a lot of styles, which is really fun for me because a lot of jazz musicians may be very well versed in jazz, but if you say, 'Well, let's do a reggae tune, or let's do kind of like a Motown tune, or Philly soul, or something like that... Dave just knows the grooves, and it's a lot of fun. He's not a jazz soloist, but he knows all these various 'feels.'"

Dave clarifies, "Some of that comes from playing drums; I play guitar in kind of a 'drum-istic' way, because I'm always conscious that when you're playing a certain idiom, it needs to have this pocket that's just right; it's not just playing the chords to the song, it's getting the feel right. I guess even when I'm playing live I'm producing in my mind; thinking 'okay, the bass line needs to do this, and this would be nice in the treble,' so I'm mixing it while I'm playing."

I ask Dave how many albums he's produced for other artists. "Several dozen, I've lost count. Sometimes I'll be just the mixer or the mastering engineer. Albums where I've done everything? There have been several dozen of those, but there are dozens more that I've just done something on." "So the ones you've done everything on have been here at this studio?" I ask. "Yeah, but when I first started out I didn't really have a studio that was fully equipped yet to record drums and stuff so I would go down to commercial studios to do that, but I began assembling my studio in the late '80s, so I've had a studio of some sort for about 20 years now; it's called Beat 'n Track Recording."

I ask Dave if he's friendly with the other engineers in town. "I actually haven't met all of them, but I've often heard their work; I think we sort of check each other out. I know Jeff [Berkley] and Sven [Erik Seaholm]." He continues, "It is getting hard to get paying clients; I think most of the other guys would say that too. So many people have their own rigs now, and whether or not they're good at it, they think, 'Well, I'm not going to spend the money...' And record sales are so poor that you often can't break even, but you want to record your stuff, so the days of having to go to a studio to lay your music down are over. "

He continues, "What I offer is more of a complete thing; I don't just push the 'record' button, I write the arrangements, sometimes I'll overdub guitar parts, I'll do percussion, I know who to call if you need a cellist. It's a mixture of engineering, performing, mixing, contracting, all these various hats that I can offer for 'one low price'. I teach guitar too; my main bread and butter is actually teaching these days. I keep two or three days a week open for recording; either our own or somebody else's."

I ask Robin about her day gig. "I care for my elderly mother, because somebody has to be here. With the job market... truthfully, my only real skill besides massage is singing." I comment on her spectacular voice, and how it must be in demand for session work. "Yeah, people hire me, but living out here, you kind of get forgotten. There are some people that I've known for years who call me, but I'm not really in the scene. Once a year Berkley Hart will call me and we'll do the 'O' Berkley Where Hart Thou' show. I have never been that good at the self-promotion thing. I've tried, I've tried; we've made the demos and sent out the packages and everything. There are people who are good at it. They just know how to get on the phone..." "Hustlers," interjects Dave. "Hustlers, yes." Robin agrees. "But it's just not my personality."

"There's something unseemly about promoting yourself, too." says Dave. Robin continues, "It's also interesting that a lot of these really aggressive self-promoters aren't even all that great sometimes. I can do a gig, and I'll get a lot of compliments or whatever, and even pass out cards, but very rarely does it translate into getting other gigs."

I comment that we are living in San Diego after all, and not L.A. or New York. Dave disagrees. "You talk to anybody from L.A., and when they do a gig they're getting 50 bucks. Jazz musicians in New York will play for 30 bucks and have to pay cab fare to get to the gig!" He pauses, then, "Teaching has worked for me, because we're in a small enough town where you can be the guy, and I love teaching anyway. I've been able, through word of mouth, to build up a steady roster of students, and so, without having to leave home, I just have people come in here four days a week and I teach them. It's a great thing for a musician to do, because the schools have cut all arts and music now, so there are a lot of parents looking in the phone book."

Again, Robin toots her husband's horn, "Dave is a fantastic teacher. His dad was a professor, and his dad's dad; they taught literature. Sometimes I have to come to the studio, and I hear him with his students; he's such a wonderful teacher. The fact that he likes it - there are musicians that teach who wish they didn't. Dave enjoys teaching, and I love that."

I said, "That's such a blessing, because I'm curious about the musicians in the community, and how they put the puzzle pieces together. It's not like being an accountant or a massage therapist. Being a musician is a multi-dimensional, complicated thing, a living-on-the-edge experience."

Dave concurs. "The music business is becoming worse and worse; CD sales are down, venues are closing, but if you're a musician, what are you going to do? Well, at least [you can] pass what you know onto the next generation of people who want it. I find it very gratifying, especially working with a student who 'gets' it, who understands that it's a lot of work, but if they want it and they are regular about the lessons, they'll get there. I have one student in particular who I've been working with since she was 12; She has been performing her own material at local restaurants as a solo singer/guitar player since she was 14 and she's about to turn 18. Now she sings in our band because she's so good."

I ask Robin if she teaches singing, and Dave pipes in, "I wish she did! I get asked every week if I know any voice teachers." Robin stumbles a bit, then says, "Well, I guess I don't... I think, oh, you know, I don't know how to teach. I feel like I don't' have enough information." Dave picks up the ball, "A lot of people think you have to know everything to be a teacher, but that's just not the case. You have to know your craft, you have to be patient, and you have to explain things to people the way you wish somebody had explained it to you; that's the secret."

I chance a personal opinion by suggesting to Robin that she would offer a great deal to a prospective student, because not only does she have the technical ability, but she also brings such a relaxed and natural vibe to her singing. I offer that, in my experience, many vocal instructors are coming from an operatic-style background, which may not inspire or apply to a would-be folk singer. Dave pipes in, "You tell her!"

Robin listens attentively, then says, "I like that you hear that because when I sing, I want it to be natural... and sincere, and emotional. I think that if I were to teach - and I've dabbled in it with friend's kids - when I listened to somebody sing, I would be thinking, 'Now I want to hear your natural voice, not the latest pop singer, or something affected; let's just hear your voice."

Dave offers this opinion. "I think everybody is very style conscious these days, because of the way the media pigeon holes everything. You're under pressure to declare your affiliation. Are you a blues singer, are you a jazz singer, or are you an R&B singer? Once you say, once you fall for it and answer that question, you're expected to sing that way."

Robin agrees. "Somebody who may not have heard me will say, 'Who do you sound like?' I don't hear that I sound like Joni Mitchell; there are certain sonorities and pitches and things, but I don't try to sound like Joni. When I do the performances, I can get into this zone, because her music is so incredible. Some people will say 'You're channeling Joni Mitchell." Dave contributes, "It's just a good fit. This project is a very good fit."

I add, "Robin, your voice has a higher tonal quality, and it's different, but I could be fooled if I wasn't listening closely." Dave rolls the tape again on another track they recorded for the upcoming album, and we all go silent to listen to what we've been discussing. Then he says, "I didn't mean to stop the conversation!" But music trumps conversation anytime in my book. Play on, guys.

And so, what about the raised voices, the slammed doors, the tears... what about the broken guitar strings? Well, maybe, just maybe, when two hearts come together, united by love for the same thing to the point where egos become extraneous, things like that become unnecessary baggage. In the case of these two, it would seem, this project of mutual passion has bred mutual respect - for the music of course, but most of all, for one another.

Safaris to the Heart/The Songs of Joni Mitchell by Robin Adler and Mutts of the Planet is slated for an early spring release. Check out their website at www.robinadler.com for information on an upcoming CD release party.

To contact Dave about lessons or his recording studio, go to http://www.beatntrack.net.