Interviews
The Cowboy Way: An Interview with Michael Timmins
of the Cowboy Junkies
by Felix Thursday
Michael Timmins sounds a little out of breath. 
Our interview was
nearly postponed due to a series of frustrating circumstances earlier
in the day--evidence that even after over a decade of touring,
Murphy's Law is still strictly enforced.
As I allowed him a few moments to regain his composure, I
thought back to 1988, my sophomore year in high school, the year the
Cowboy Junkies' major label debut, The Trinity Session was released.
With its lush instrumentation and the nectar-sweet vocals of Margo
Timmins, The Trinity Session challenged my conception of what country
music was, and--if executed soulfully and imaginatively--what it
ultimately could be. Featuring songs penned by Hank Williams, Lou
Reed, and the Timmins team of Michael and Margo, as well as
non-traditional arrangements of traditional folk ballads such as
"Mining For Gold" and "Working On A Building", The Trinity Session
challenged Nashville's conservative conception of what country music
should be as well. Too much, perhaps, for the Nashville canon to
embrace. Timmins, however, is indifferent regarding the industry's
admonishment.
"We never considered ourselves a country band," says Timmins,
somewhat perplexed. "We've always though of it as kind of odd when
people would even mention that. There is certainly a country influence
in our music...we did some covers of country songs, but not in any way
that anyone had ever covered those songs before. That's a real
specific genre. At least it was back when we started. We don't really
fit into any genre. We don't submit to those structures, or any of the
rules that govern them. We never thought we'd be a country band or get
played on country radio; it was something that was the furthest from
our minds. K.D. Lang sort of pushed that element a bit more; she
talked about being 'Alternative Country'. We never used that term for
ourselves."
Still, when "Alternative" music made its way into the mainstream
in the early '90s, a marketing effort was made to attach the label to
the Cowboy Junkies sound--a classification that Timmins quickly
dismisses.
"That's pure music industry crap. Are we an 'Alternative' band?
Are we a 'Post-Modern Country' band? It's other peoples' jobs to think
about that."
Despite No Depression acts such as Son Volt, Wilco and the
Jayhawks breaking new commercial ground by revitalizing rural rock,
Timmins is reluctant to enlist the Cowboy Junkies in the new ranks.
"As far as trends in music go, we've never really paid attention
to them. Our whole intention with playing music is to communicate with
the people who are listening to it, and we feel that's done by bearing
our emotions and trying to delve into emotions other people can relate
to. That's what I've been trying to do from the very start. I'd like
to think that over the years we've established a sense of community
between ourselves and the people who listen to us; that's very
important in this day and age. I think that's always been a big part
of any sort of art form and that's what is so great about it. We're
all basically individuals who are trying to figure out how we're
connected to each other and the earth. Art somehow anchors you--it
connects you to other people. I think that's the basic role of art
anyway. Some bands aren't trying to do that. They're trying to write
catchy little pop hits...that's fine too I guess."
Despite the growing emphasis that is being placed on electronic
music, Timmins says he will remain rooted to the Cowboy Junkies'
organic chemistry.
"At this point in my life, I have no interest in electronica. I
find it very soulless. I do like some of the loops and rhythm tracks
that are being used; they can be very interesting--as long as they're
accompanied by more traditional instruments. But the pure electronica
stuff that's all computer generated...it's probably just my
generation, but I don't hear the person or the soul in it, and that's
what music is all about to me."
This interview appeared in section M magazine, Issue #5, January 1999.
It kinda sucks.
