Ed Ackerson behind the controls at Flowers Studio

In an independent music world where burn out occurs with such regularity that artists who manage to stick around for five years are referred to in all seriousness as “grizzled veterans” Ed Ackerson is a notable exception. It’s been over 20 years since his first band, the Dig, started gigging on the Minneapolis music scene, and while plenty of the people Ackerson came up with have long since stowed their guitars away, Ackerson is still in the act, and, more importantly, at the top of his game. Having spent the better part of the ’90s and early 2000s focusing on performing with his psych-rock band Polara, enduring a requisite rough trip through the major label machine (Polara inked a deal with Interscope in 1997 back when that sort of thing was still thought highly desirable only to be dropped a few years later along with scores of others during widespread label mergers), the bulk of Ackerson’s musical activity in recent years has taken place in the producers chair. As the owner of Flowers Studio in Uptown Minneapolis, Ackerson’s lent his producing and engineering skills to high profile national releases by both local luminaries (Golden Smog , Mason Jennings ) and exciting fresh musical faces (Limbeck , Beight ), including the artists on his record label, Susstones .

With production and record label duties seemingly taking up the bulk of his time (Polara has gigged sparingly and released just one full-length album so far this decade with another one long rumored to be in the works), I was caught by surprise when Ed Ackerson’s solo full-length debut album fell into my hands a few weeks back with no advance warning. That surprise morphed to glee after giving the album a few spins. Those enamored of Polara’s gauzy space-pop will still find plenty of winning hooks, but here they’re recast in a relatively austere setting, the focus on Ackerson’s voice and lyrics rather than dense atmospherics. It’s closer in spirit to the music of Ackerson’s long time buddies on the Minneapolis music scene than his own recorded past, possessing the same kind of effortless charm as Kraig Johnson’s tunes (it’s no coincidence that Ackerson played lead guitar in Johnson’s currently on hiatus rock band The Program), and a way with technically skilled but never ostentatious guitar solos that brings to mind Gary Louris’ similarly florid-without-being-overbearing guitar heroics.

Ackerson’s take on alt. country still feels fresh, however, filtered as it is through his uniquely Brit-pop colored lens - in other words expect plenty of ringing rickenbackers and poppy keyboard flourishes. Even a seemingly traditional ballad like “Flashes of Light,” which starts off centered on a subtly sweet finger-picked acoustic guitar pattern, is eventually transported far away from traditional folk-pop terrain via tambourine, bongos and an airy synthesizer wash. Moving away from the cryptic imagery that characterizes his lyrical output in Polara, Ackerson plays it straight with a contemplative set of lyrics chronicling the acceptance of personal responsibility and the difficulties in dealing with people who can’t get their act together. On “Got Your Message” he razzes a nostalgia prone confidante, (“I’ve got a question I’ve been meaning to ask / When did your future become a shrine to your past? / It’s an illusion it wasn’t any better / You were still complaining then”). On “Flashes of Light” he reaches out to aid a maddeningly flakey friend spiraling towards self-destruction (“It’s hard to see so much potential stumbling down the avenue / There’s a clock that’s racing you / And there’s very little chance that it’s losing / Whatever your intentions are it doesn’t matter what you say / It’s what you do”).  Songs born of experience, it’s hard to imagine Ackerson could have made this record back in his early 20s, but all the “adultness” of the subject matter doesn’t take away from the joyous exuberance of the music. Written and recorded in solitude, Ed Ackerson is the sound of an artist still clearly energized by the music making process and sounding more relevant than ever as a result.

Ackerson recently took time out to chat with Reveille at Flowers Studios about the unique process that yielded his debut solo album and his undying love for rock ‘n’ roll amongst other topics.

Reveille: Why a solo record now when Polara’s had an album in the works for so long. Was it just a situation where inspiration grabbed you and wouldn’t let go?

Ackerson: That’s exactly what happened really. The fifth Polara record has been in process for about three years. But songwriting wise these tunes just didn’t feel like Polara, they didn’t want to go there. The approach was just to kind of write songs and go into the studio when there was an open afternoon or something and try to get as much done as possible in one sitting. A lot of these songs were completed in one six hour session. With Polara the production process kind of goes on for indefinite periods (laughs).

Reveille: Was it scary to go ahead and make a record completely by yourself after working within a band dynamic for so long?

Ackerson: When writing for Polara I’m always thinking about what the other people in the band can bring to it. I think about what Jennifer will be singing or the kind of groove that Peter would play. But with these songs it was all about the guitar and singing; the other stuff is total decoration really. It was a really natural thing. I was kind of just jamming with myself. I would lay down the guitar and vocal, listen to it, and then go grab a shaker or whatever other element I thought needed to be added and play it myself. That’s quite different than bringing a demo to the band, and knowing what their going to do because of the rapport I’ve built up with them. I’ve gotten used to doing these gigantic sort of lumbering arrangements, but with this record if a song had just three elements in it, great. That just wouldn’t happen in Polara ever because everybody has too many good ideas.

Reveille: You’ve done a lot of work over the years as both a producer and backing musician for other artists. How much do those experiences inform how you approach working on your own music?

Ackerson's debut solo album

Reveille: In the press release for the album it mentions that Eric Lovold  [front man for young Minneapolis music sensations the Alarmists] is going to be playing in your band for the CD release show. I know you’ve acted as a bit of a mentor to him and I assume some of the other young groups that come through Flowers Studios. In my mind that really sets you apart from most of the other elder statesmen on the local music scene; it seems like you really enjoy reaching out to newer groups just coming on. Do you see that as part of your larger musical mission?

Ackerson: I just think the Alarmists are a fantastic band - great singing, great songwriting, and extremely cool people. To me it’s all just part of a continuum and it’s only in situations like this when somebody says [effects mock serious reporter voice]: ‘So what’s it like crossing musical generations and working with Eric Lovold?’ That I even think about the difference in our ages. I am probably 15 years older than Eric and that is kind of a weird thing, but I don’t even think of it that way because it’s just people doing rock music together. Maybe it’s because I’m older now, but I know when I was 22 I thought that people who were 30 and trying to be in bands were just stupid. I just thought it was horrific (laughs)! I don’t know if people still feel that way. I know that now that I’m on the other side of 30 I think it’s cool for older people to be making music. I think that the whole culture is changing with respect to age though. There are a lot of people substantially older than me, in bands like Sonic Youth and Yo La Tengo, who are still making totally vital music. It seems like the indie-rock world is moving closer to the world of jazz and blues where people can be 65, 70 years old and still do really cool stuff and kids will still be into it because it’s not lame. I think the age-ist thing in rock happened because with most of that ’60s generation of musicians by the time they were 35 they had massive coke habits and were wearing Hawaiian shirts and hadn’t made a good record in 10 years. Nobody really stayed vital, even Neil Young made a bunch of terrible records in the ’80s.

Ed Ackerson: Jubilant dog walker

Reveille: As friendly a musical town as Minneapolis is it certainly has its share of cliques. Is that something you really fight against?

Ackerson: I’m fortunate that the musician friends I’ve hung out with for a long time, people like Marc Perlman and Gary Louris, are still extremely interested in new music and really active. They go out to shows all the time. Those are the people I want to align myself with rather than people who want to sit around and reminisce about some mythical period during the ’80s when the Replacements and Husker Du were going and view it as a golden era where everything coming after it has been a drag. I was around during that period as a very young person - 15, 16, 17 years old - I was going to all those shows and loving it, and it definitely put the wind under my sails and is part of what's pushing me still. But I certainly don’t look at that as a high water mark that can never be reached again because if that’s how I felt I wouldn’t bother to be doing anything. Rock has a horrible tendency for that kind of nostalgia. It’s like when I was a teenager and there were all the old hippies who would never shut up about Woodstock. “Yeah, you’re punk rock shit’s OK, but when I saw Jimi Hendrix in 1851 that really kicked ass.”

Reveille: I always enjoy talking with people energized by the art they’re creating, particularly when they’ve outlasted the typical lifespan of someone working in the realm of independent pop music. Obviously burn out is something that happens to a lot of musicians. How do you stave it off? Or has that never really felt like an issue for you?

Ackerson: Making music is the coolest damn thing I can think of doing with my life at all, and it always has been since I was a little kid. I think the thing that burns people out is when they become careerist about it and feel like they have to “make it” or that music is about competition. I set goals that I wanted to see happen awhile ago with Polara and we were fortunate enough to have a very good business situation and some success that got us to a place I was very happy with. I’ve been more fortunate than some people in terms of having a musical career but [widespread success] is never something I’ve been overly concerned about. I just like doing rock, it’s still cool to me. It hasn’t gotten old for me and I’m getting better at all of it. I can’t imagine getting burned out on it. This is something like my 14^th career album, and if at this point in my life at my rather advanced age I can be creating music that’s different than anything I’ve ever done before and feels really resonant that’s exciting. I just love it.