Biologists tell us that the human heart has four chambers. But poets know the truth. Nested in the heart are unfathomable hidden compartments, one inside the other, filled with hope and longing, love and desire, mystery and intrigue.
As the title of her new album – Chinese Boxes – makes clear, when it comes to
sizing up the heart, Kim Richey is with the poets.
“I love the term Chinese Boxes,” Richey says. “And it really seems to sum up the record. It’s so visual and intriguing. When you see it, you think, ‘What is this about?’ Also, they’re like those Russian dolls, one inside the other inside the other. They’re all different yet they’re of the same group.”
The title is an apt description of the album’s ten songs, which fit together like puzzle pieces, as they explore the vagaries of lovers and other strangers.
There’s the shape-shifter of the title track, who is like “magic spells and misdirection, smoke and mirrors, plastic flowers;” the enchanted couple in “Jack And Jill,” one who wears her “dress like a Saturday,” the other who holds her hand “like a mystery;” the sweet, tongue-tied companions of “Drift;” and on “The Absence Of Your Company” and “Not A Love Like This,” the indecisive, non-committal types who keep us forever circling in emotional holding patterns.
Richey has been plying her brand of insightful song craft since arriving in Nashville in the early ‘90s. A tunesmith with a wide stylistic range – she’s written or co-written songs for Mary Chapin Carpenter, Trisha Yearwood and UK pop sensation James Morrison, among others – she’s also made four acclaimed solo albums and had her music featured in films and television shows such as For The Love Of The Game, Angel, Alias and Grey’s Anatomy.
But over the last five years, Richey found herself growing estranged from the artist side of her career. “It seemed like whenever I would travel and write a lot of stuff for other people, I’d come back home and then start writing songs that I would like to sing. And not trying to write songs that would fit in with the pop genre, or whatever.”
With a notebook full of songs that she wanted to record, Richey set off for her home away from home - London. “London’s not a place I go as a tourist,” Richey says. “I feel really at home there. To make the record there and to have my friends involved, I thought that would be really wonderful.”
“Also, I wanted to put a different kind of spin on things. I’m an American, from Nashville, based in that particular tradition of songwriting. Then I would go over there where they have a different musical tradition. So I thought it would be interesting to mix the two together.”
Facilitating that transatlantic mix was Richey’s old friend Giles Martin. Son of Sir George Martin, Giles co-produced Love, the highly inventive Beatles mash-up album of last year. While there are certainly Fab-ish touches here and there (Mellotron flutes, whistling, Leslie guitars) on Chinese Boxes, what Martin brings to the table is a tremendous clarity in recording and an ear for just the right part.
“Giles is very musical, with a pop and classical background,” Richey says. “He always comes up with the most beautiful parts. Everything he does is melodic and well placed. There’s never stuff put in just to take up space. “He was very focused on my voice and singing. That’s what he wanted the focal point of the record to be.”
Indeed, Richey’s dusky alto has never sounded more intimate and full of warmth. Her vocal performances on ballads like “Pretty Picture” and “Something To Say” are simply some of the best she’s ever done.
Recording at Eastcote and Air Studios, Richey and Martin surrounded themselves with an eclectic supporting cast, including guitarist Jez Ashurst (Farrah), a Danish bassist named Henrik, drummer Andy Maclure and multi-instrumentalist Billy Mowbray (Velvet Jones). Even Martin’s dog, an Alsatian named Stanley sat in on the sessions.
“This record seemed a lot more casual in the making, because we were all friends and we all knew each other really well,” says Richey. “It was fun and really easy. We’d record, hang out, have tea, and tell jokes. When we got hungry, we’d walk across the street to the Tesco supermarket. It kind of reminded me of a class outing, when you’re in school.”
The resulting album, bursting with spirited performances and wonderful songs (Richey’s co-writers include Mindy Smith, Katie Herzig and Tim Krekel), sounds like music that’s built for the ages. “We wanted to make a classic sounding record,” Richey says. “Something timeless. We didn’t want to do a bunch of stuff that sounded like I was trying to fit in to any specific time period, or make a really modern record. “In some ways, that’s nothing new,” she adds with a chuckle. “Because I’ve never fit in.”
With anticipation high from fans the world over and upcoming US and UK tours, Richey’s hopes for Chinese Boxes are simple.
“One of the most wonderful things about performing and making albums is feeling that connection with people,” she says. “We all get pretty isolated sometimes. We’re driving around in our cars or in our houses watching TV or on the computer. You just get so inside your own head. You’re having this day where you just feel like you’re the only person. Then you go into a grocery store or something and you’ll have a random conversation with a person in the checkout line, and it makes you so happy. It’s that connection. And that’s what I hope people feel from my record.”
