Almost Grown

Photo By Anthony Lepore

Ana Egge, Act II

Ana Egge is on the phone from the desert somewhere in Arizona.

"It's funny, but wherever I go, people say to me, 'Oh, you grew up!'

"I'm trying not to take it in the wrong way," continues the ever-genial Egge. "People first saw me when I was 20, and I'm 28 now. I'm definitely more of an adult."

She chuckles at the thought of ever actually growing up.

"A lot of people still associate me from [1997 debut LP] River Under the Road and being from Austin. And that's great, but that's where I was then. Now I'm free to write about whatever I want. It's fine for me to express my sexuality and write songs about sex. I never would have done that when I was young and inexperienced as a writer."

It wasn't so long ago that the 20-year-old Egge single-handedly took over the Austin folk scene (see "Truckstop Girl"). In 1998, she won Best Singer-Songwriter and Best Folk Artist at the Austin Music Awards, and soon, local songsmiths like Shawn Colvin and Jimmie Dale Gilmore came calling for a tour mate. Then in 2000, when her sister offered her an acre of land in Silver City, N.M., where Egge had emigrated from, back she went to build a house and be close to her family.

From her new/old home base, Egge continued her travels, touring with Toronto's Ron Sexsmith, which helped get her person and songs overseas and to Canada. With her popularity growing, she signed on with manager Ron Fierstein, who was also working with Colvin, and, at one time or another, had a stable that included Suzanne Vega, Mary Chapin Carpenter, Dar Williams, and Austin's Darden Smith. Since Egge's new business connection was headquartered in New York, she decided to move to Brooklyn.

"It was quite a culture shock," she relates. "I was used to the outdoors, but in Brooklyn there was just concrete and a different kind of dirt. I took a room with a friend of mine in Crown Heights, one of the worst neighborhoods in the five boroughs, but I started finding gigs pretty quickly. I started finding people that were more like me. I've been there for almost four years."

Now she's considering a return to Texas, looking at houses in Austin online. The tall blonde echoes what those in the Austin music community have long voiced.

"Austin has such an amazing community, such an amazing support for music," Egge declares. "New York is not the same. There I've found a lot of great people in other areas, puppetry, craftsman, dancers, and actors, but not a concentration of musicians like that in Austin."

So far, 2005 has been a very good year for the singer-songwriter. She released her fourth LP, Out Past the Lights, to rave reviews in March, the album having won people over with its combination of worldly sounds, Egge's vocals of honey and smoke, and lyrics thick with a poetic bent. It's obvious that she's acquired a bit of confidence in her old age, in the studio and as a songwriter and bandleader. Some credit must be given to producer and bass player Jason Mercer, who became friends with Egge while he was touring with Ani Difranco.

"We started playing together before he started touring with Ron Sexsmith when Ron was on tour with Coldplay," explains Egge. "Guy Berryman, bass player from Coldplay, became friends with Jason and he gave Jason a whole G4 Pro Tools rig because he was sponsored by them and they had given him two. So Jason called me when the tour was over and asked me if I wanted to record some of my songs. We recorded in his kitchen and living room. It was really the little record that could. We just followed the songs and made them the way we thought they should sound like. I just finished it without telling my manager. I gave it to Ron and asked him what he thought. He was impressed enough to get it released."

Out Past the Lights has garnered special notice from influential L.A. deejay Nic Harcourt, so Egge spent a couple of weeks last month in California promoting it. Included was a special evening with her personal hero Lucinda Williams, who introduced her with such zeal that the entire audience was hushed to attention. Next up for Egge are a couple of summertime shows opening for Williams, maybe a song on a movie soundtrack, and perhaps another album by the end of the year. Now that she's all grown up, where does she see herself in the future?

"I'd love to say I'd be up there with Norah Jones," Egge replies with a smile that's audible over the phone. "But really, I'm living my dream right now."

Photo By Mary Sledd

Third time's the charm for Adam Carroll

It was sometime during the summer of 1998 that Adam Carroll made his local debut at Threadgill's World Headquarters for a songwriter's night. Everyone was doing short solo sets, four or five songs each. Carroll, fresh off the bus into Austin, got up onstage as unrefined as any performer you will ever see – banging away on his guitar and singing with an authentic Texas twang that was just barely attractive. When he broke a string on his third song, the young singer-songwriter gave up, leaving the meager audience unsettled by the entire experience. It was an odd incident, made even more memorable by the path Carroll has taken since.

Today, nearly every time a critic turns on their computer to bang out a few bons mots about the mild mannered Tyler native, they compare him to such revered songwriters as John Prine and/or Townes Van Zandt. Carroll can't be that good, can he? Two or three spins of his new album, Far Away Blues, should be enough to convince listeners that he's at least on the right trail.

In person, Carroll's slight but wiry, with a shock of light brown hair and steel gray eyes. He's sporting a few days' growth on his boyish face, yet always maintains the personable and polite air of a proper Texas gentleman.

"I just turned 30 in March," he says by way of introduction, then adds with a sly smirk, "I'm not sure if that's good or bad."

Carroll grew up in East Texas, and though he had an interest in writing and music, he didn't marry the two until he hit his 20s.

"When I was in junior college," he says, "I was taking guitar lessons and creative writing courses, but I had never had the skills to make either of those successful by themselves. Right around that time, I heard Robert Earl Keen and Guy Clark. I enjoy creative writing, but songwriting seemed a lot easier. With fiction, a lot of times you end up sounding like another person, not yourself."

A 1998 song swap in Archer City with then fledgling Texas music maverick Cory Morrow presented an opportunity called Austin.

"Cory was looking for a roommate," recalls Carroll. "I had no idea what I was getting into, but it sounded like a good idea and I moved here. It turned out to be a little more than I bargained for. I was opening shows for him on Sixth Street, but I couldn't seem to get any gigs on my own and even he said that I was probably missing my audience by playing to his. So I moved south, to Wimberley."

He's now out of San Marcos, but the moving and associated upheaval made it difficult for him to write songs. His first two albums, 1998's South of Town and 2000's Lookin' Out the Screen Door, both produced by musical guru Lloyd Maines, were comprised of songs he had written in his early years.

"It took me awhile where I felt like I had a space where I could write," he nods. "So, yeah. My dry period lasted about five years."

While not a concept album, Far Away Blues, also produced by Maines, is a meditation on family. Carroll's is a musical one, including his grandfather Ray Davidson, who played saxophone for Gene Krupa before taking on choir director duties at his church. Davidson makes an appearance on Far Away Blues. One thing that differentiates Carroll from other writers and leads to comparisons to Prine and Van Zandt is his ability to balance the contemplative with the playful.

"I got to thinking about the way my family connected through music and the way music connects us all," explains Carroll. "It's loosely based on my life, but it's not all true. There are true feelings, but if something's too true, it's not always the best story."

One of his truest experiences was a traveling songwriters show he was involved with, the Four Corners of the Round Table, which included Beaver Nelson, Steve Poltz, and Scrappy Jud Newcomb.

"That's probably my favorite part of what I do these days," says Carroll, eyes alight, "travel around and hear different people's stories. I remember all of them or at least the parts I want to. Lloyd said he didn't think I could get any better, but I could be different. I think that listening to all kinds of songwriters and traveling and stuff gave me a new perspective on things."

Ana Egge and Adam Carroll split a bill at the Cactus Cafe Wednesday, June 15.