"The first time I saw David Ramirez play, it was in a some smokey dive bar of a venue on a Tuesday night. It was late and I honestly had no idea who the other bands were that were playing that night. I'd just been told, "if you even remotely like David's records, then you must see him play live." So there I was. It was a bit of a watering hole, filled with raucus regulars for whom the music was merely an excuse to lean in to yell in each other's ears. From the corner of the room, I see David walk up on stage carrying his guitar. He plugged in, put his beer down by the mic stand, and started playing over the chatter and clinking beer bottles.

And that is when something truly special happened. By the end of the first verse, half of the room was silent. By the end of the first chorus, the entire room. By the end of the first song, the bartenders stopped serving drinks because the entire bar was on their feet and had moved in towards the stage. Every head was turned, every conversation halted, every eye on him. He'd been playing, by himself, for less than five minutes.

That has only happened a few times in my life, when someone so gracefully reaches down and absolutely demands your attention. It was in that moment, mouth hanging open, that I knew who our next session had to be..."

-RB

David was gracious enough to stop by and track a few songs off of his last couple of records, American Soil and the Strangetown EP. Be sure to check out the audio only versions of the songs, you'll find one song previously unrecorded, as well as the entirety of the session.

Ryan Booth then sat down with David and talked a little more about performance as craft and wearing your heart on your sleeve...

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RB: Do you feel like writing, for you, is a discipline thing or an inspiration thing?

DR: It's definitely a mixture of both. I have to be disciplined about it every day and really sit down and pursue it…see what happens. Some things do come out of that, but I've found that the more disciplined you are and the more that you show up, the more often inspiration seems to show up. Inspiration tends to hit harder when you've prepared yourself for something. So yeah, the discipline doesn't really seem to produce on its own. I don't ever really get a song out of sitting down every day and writing. Things come up, but nothing I'm really excited about. I see that as just the preparation for those inspired moments. When everything hits at the right time. It's a lot easier to not miss.

But of course that's a hard question, cause I'm talking about it like it's a fact, but it changes all the time. The truth is sometimes it's there and sometimes it's not. I just don't necessarily know that that is the point. Maybe we're just supposed to show up and be willing to be there.

RB: What do you do when you feel like you're doing your part, showing up everyday, and the inspiration isn't necessarily taking care of it's part and showing up?

DR: Man, I get so frustrated. I get really, really frustrated. Cause it can be months between those moments. I mean, I haven't really put out anything new or fresh that I've enjoyed for at least six months or so. It causes a lot of frustration. But, then again, even in the last couple of weeks things have started peaking their heads above ground. And it's that familiar, exciting feeling of making something new. But, in the absence, it's frustration. I don't really know how to rememdy that frustration and allow myself to get out of it. It just pisses me off.



RB: I've seen you play a couple of times and you walk up on stage with a guitar and basically make people listen to you. Does that wear on you?

DR: No, it doesn't. And I'm surprised by that. What wears on me is the writing and the trying to tell a story or get something out that I'm experiencing. The performance aspect is less about me in a lot of ways. I mean, I'm part of the equation, but the audience is the other half. That's how I look at it at least. It doesn't really exhaust me because I feel like I'm getting into a relationship with a group of people and we ride that train together. I really like that and get a lot of joy from that. I do my part and I tell my story and do my best to make it as real as it was the first time and I feel like they do their part and they listen and relate to it and connect. And they communicate back to me in their own way. Maybe through their eyes or their silence. I feel like the burden is carried through multiple people.

RB: Would you say it's a 50/50 equation or would you say it skews one way or the other in terms of who's carrying what?

DR: I'd say it changes. Especially if it's an audience that doesn't give a shit. Maybe it's more like 75/25 on my side. I just really push hard on those nights. But sometimes the audience is so invested and so involved I'm allowed to just be me. Those are really special nights.

RB: Would you say the performance part of music is a craft in and of itself? Does the way that you perform these songs live take honing and effort and practice and skill and natural ability and all of those things that define and make up a craft.

Yeah I think that it does. You sit down and talk to someone who is extremely wise and intelligent about any topic in the world and you can gain a lot from them. but you put them in front of a room full of people and the thoughts might not translate. Just like public speaking is an art form in and of itself, performing music is as well. We're all trying to tell a story and convey a message and you have to do it in your own way. I've found my way that works even though it's taken me a long time to get there. I still find faults in what I do and of course there are things to change and ways to get better. It's one of the hardest parts to have to get out there in front of people.

RB: Do you know when you're really connecting with a crowd? Do you know when you're telling a story well? Runners describe the feeling of when everything is clicking, this "high" where they can't feel their legs anymore. Is there that kind of analogy for you when you're playing?

DR: I do know when I'm connecting with the crowd. I can feel that cause a relationship starts to form. That's really what I look for the whole time. I'm never searching to disappear on stage where people no longer see me. I love when that happens, but that's not necessarily my goal. My goal is really to have that moment with that one person or those ten people or a whole room. That's the most exciting thing for me. That's why I decided to go out and play instead of just staying in my room and singing to the wall. I always notice when those moments happen…



RB: A lot of your songs are story based, they seem very narrative. Do you feel that as a writer you need to have experienced things personally to be able to write about them?

DR: I'd like to be able to tell some stories that didn't personally happen and recently that's something that has started to happen. But everything so far on the last couple of records are all personal accounts of stuff that has gone down. Hopefully I can begin to break away from that. I don't know if it's a bad thing for it to have happened to me, but it's something I want to push myself in as a writer.

RB: Do you feel like it'd be an evolution for you to write a song about something that hasn't happened to you? For you to capture a feeling to the point that people think, "surely that must have happened to him because there is no way he could have that kind of insight, that nuance or detail the way that it exists in that song otherwise." What would it mean for you to be able to do that without it having happened to you?

DR: Yeah, it'd be an evolution, but I'd like to do it more for protection too. I do enough wearing my heart on my sleeve in these songs and I toil a lot over what I do and say personally. I want to tell these stories and want to be honest and want to emanate a lot of feeling and emotion. Personally I just need a break from that sometimes.

RB: Do you feel like the more you're emotionally and personally wrapped up in the things you're trying to say or write that it helps or hinders the process?

DR: I would say hinders. Defintely.

RB: What do you mean by that? How so?

DR: When I'm emotionally invested, have a lot of thoughts and feelings on the issue, whatever it may be, it can keep me so close to the song that I don't get to stand back and get some clarity on the situation. For example, say I could be in a relationship with a girl and it ends. My first gut reaction would be to write about it, but often nothing that's quality or decent comes out. I might crank out a breakup tune about a girl, but it might not be until nine months, a year that I really gain any clarity over what actually happened. I need some time to step away and breathe a bit. It's being too emotionally involved that can hinder that insight.

RB: So you need time to digest?

DR: Exactly.



RB: Do you feel like, as a writer, that dissatisfaction with what you've made is a prerequisite to making better things or do you feel that the gnawing "I could do that better" gets in the way of you actually getting better.

DR: I was just talking with a buddy last night about writing and he asked me what my favorite tune was, one that'd I'd written that I just really loved and get excited about every time that I play it. I spit off a couple, ones that I feel are really pretty complete and aren't lacking much. But that was a few months ago and now i'm ready to do something new. Not that I've gotten over them like they don't mean anything, but I'm ready to write something else and to have that feeling with another piece. Sure, there are songs that I'm dissatisfied with but there are songs that I'm satisfied with and that I want to hold on to forever. I'm trying to remove myself and try not to inflict so much pain on myself during the process.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, I've always been the kind of writer who can't really begin the process without a shot of whiskey and a cigarette. I wouldn't mind getting away from that for a little while. I think I'm going to start being satisfied. (laughter) We'll see where that gets me.

RB: I think there are phases. The kind of things we make in certain times in lives will be made in a certain way, and then the tools exhaust themselves and we have to try new ways of making things…

DR: Exactly. I can definitely see how both satisfaction and dissatisfaction propel people. It seems like more of an opinion or individual approach. The whole process, for every medium, is so intriguing. You'll get a different answer from everyone you ask...



RB: What do you hope people take away from bumping into your music?

DR: I don't talk too much during my shows. I feel like most of my sharing comes in the music so I don't feel the need to discuss that often, but one thing I've been saying recently is that sure, I sing a lot about pain and I sing a lot about hard things, but they aren't things to be afraid of. They aren't things to run away from all the time. They are the things propel us to be better. That's something that I've been hoping to communicate. I'm sure a few years from now there will be something else, but the content of American Soil and Strangetown is a lot about walking through some of that pain and I'd hope people wouldn't shy away from it. That when we connect over the music, they know they aren't alone and that everything is going to be ok.

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CREDITS:

Music by:
David Ramirez

Music performed by:
David Ramirez
Lindsey Kirkendall
Ryan Owens
Jesse Fox
Andy Shelton

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Directed by:
Ryan Booth

VISUALS:

Cameras:
Cody Bess
Ryan Booth
Andrew Hudson
Daniel Karr
Neil Sandoz

Edited by: Ryan Booth
Graded by: Ryan Booth & Cody Bess
Titles by: Tyler Swanner
Photos by: Ryan Booth & Cody Bess

AUDIO:
Engineered by: Jay Snider
Assisted by: Ty Robins
Mixed by: Jay Snider
Mastered by: Daniel Karr
Production Assistance by: Chris Cullins

Illustration and Design by: Tyler Swanner


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AUDIO ONLY VERSIONS:







**Thanks to Catalina Coffee for the generous use of their space. Go drink their coffee. It's the best in Houston.