The way Libby talks about music it’s as though it had
personage, sentience, benevolence, even…it’s almost corporeal, a friend she
grew up with… Actually, maybe it was more like a beautiful specter, a guardian
angel-type entity. I could go on, because Libby’s songs are just that hauntingly evocative.
Libby DeCamp comes from the village of Romeo, way up Van
Dyke; sutured into a family of musicians, singers and, well, lots of drummers
actually. But Libby plays the banjo. The noble, quirky instrument called to
her, almost… In fact, not to get too supernatural, but Libby says she’s felt a
lifelong draw to music, she “…grew up close with it…and made a best friend of
it, pretty early on.”
But back to that banjo… “Banjo…there’s always just been
something about it, for me. Sometimes people laugh when you say ‘banjo…’ All
these people…naming their dogs ‘Banjo’ because it’s a funny sounding word… But
I just felt like it was the right thing when I played it. I always keep coming
back to it, whether it’s just it’s just a frequency I like to hear, or whatever
it is… I just feel I’m able to connect with those older era’s that I’ve been
drawn to with the banjo, that’s why I love it so much.”
For much of her albeit young life, she’s felt an ineffable
draw to the old world, to a time long before the information age, before
highways or jets, before televisions… Libby harkens back to a time of storytelling,
of busking, of almanacs and field recordings, to when jazz elements like
trombone and upright bass began to interlace with country twangs from acoustic
guitars, banjos and the honeyed harmonies and warbled intonations of the
vocalist.
Libby’s music is for waltzing and for toe-tapping blushes of
chivalry, for revelatory moments of pause and deep sighs of the soul. Minimal
and melodious, plucked upon a skeletal lattice of banjo and a splendid,
trilling vocal, with enticingly trudge-and-shuffle drums and slaloming bass
plucks. The simple swell of songs like “Black Suit Man” are indicative of capacity
for delightfully dark-ish, gothic Americana-crossed with gypsy-jazz incantations.
But then she can bring it all down to a dreamy lullaby like “Charlie…” The hub
of these cross sections is her sense for minimalism, giving space for a melody
to breathe and providing just a candle-light’s worth of radiance.
“Arrangement-wise,” says Libby, “it is a little more
hemmed-in, more focused, with fewer instruments, maybe, but the most intention
possible. I want to emphasize the direct storytelling aspect of (the music),
whilst still creating an interesting sonic landscape.” The banjo, she
acknowledges, is her most clarion connection to the old world, to traditional
folk, to “old-time music…” But she’s always been very passionate about creative
writing. “The roots of American folk, in general, really…particularly with
writers like John Steinbeck, who’s one of my biggest inspirations out of all
the creative fields.”
The way she tells it, since she was a teenager, she’s been
seeking the great American historical aesthetic, to resurrect the soul of its
folk music and particularly embody the aspects about it that she considers the
most valuable, its intention. To sing, to write, to play with intent, to be
fully present… Libby’s not naïve. As I said, she’s had music as an
invisible/imaginary friend her whole life, and she’s grown to appreciate its
potency.
“I try to be as
cognizant as I can of why we’re here,” says Libby, referring casually to, just,
ya know, the tremendous scope of human existence… “And what can we be doing to
continually connect with other people? And be present with everything that’s
happening to and with other people that we’re connected to…I mean, not just
people, even, but animals too…and our surrounding environment.”
Originally, Libby had been in a folk duo prior to essentially going solo
as Libby DeCamp. The previous project was in its early stages of expanding into
a four-piece with Brandon and Adam Schreiber (from Jack &The Bear) serving as rhythm
section, when a falling-out led to the band fizzling away.
The Schreiber
brothers stuck with Libby, though, and the trio started performing just a
little more than a year ago. Early in the summer of 2015, Libby was at a house
party hosted by said-Schreibers, where she met
singer/songwriter/multi-instrumentalist Olivia Mainville, who leads the AquaticTroupe over in Grand Rapids. Before she knew it, she went out on a tour with
Olivia; she’s been in the Troupe ever since!
“I’m thankful we all found each other,” Libby said,
referring to Mainville, the Schreibers, and others in their close-knit
collective of songwriters and music-makers, such as ISLA (formerly known as Air
Is The Arche). “There’s lots of musicians out there you can connect with, but I
feel that we all specifically resonate with each other on a matter of purpose…”
“When I perform music (for an audience), I can still feel pretty shaky, sometimes… Because for
so many years, (performing) music was just an experience that I had kind of as a treat just
for myself; a way to connect with myself, also, as if it were a little
religion. So that makes it almost feel…I dunno, embarrassing, to play for
people. But the goal of it all is to reach other people and hopefully they can
connect with it…”
Because…
“Because it’s so worth it to do this,” she says… “Because I
feel a need to be close with music and to say what needs to be said.” She doesn’t
mean that last part lightly, you can anticipate Guthrie-an esque social
commentary across her lyrics, with even more pointedly topical, yet old-world-tinged
verses to come on future recordings.
Libby will sing what needs to be said… “As much as I can do
that, even if it means doing the opposite of what’s comfortable for me. I’ve got to…So, I hope to get better every
day and play honest music with as much purpose as I can…give it as much
integrity as I can while still making a career out of it… The goal is to
emphasize the messages of it all, as much as I can.”
Libby DeCamp performs Saturdayhttp://www.libbydecamp.com/
at the Cadieux Cafe
4300 Cadieux Rd - Grosse Pointe
INFO
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