When Mirah talks, it seems like the thing she’s talking about is right in front of her, instead of inside her head. She writes from a place before her mind translates what her body says. For this reason, her lyrics are mysterious; the listener must translate them from his or her feelings, connect the pieces and enter the space between body and emotion.
On the morning after her May 12 Eugene show, I had the honor of having an early breakfast with the songstress. We were supposed to have dinner before she played at the WOW Hall, but Mirah didn’t get into town until late.
After her show, Mirah still hadn’t eaten, so my friend and I gave her two containers of peach granola we had made the night before. She hungrily popped one open right then and there. Then, we all chose to meet at Morning Glory Café bright and early the next morning. She and her touring partners had to leave early, and we had class at 10 a.m.
After she had ordered her breakfast — a dish that had two tempeh patties with a side of potatoes — she spoke about touring with Tara Jane Oneill and the band Liarbird. Her WOW Hall show was the first of the tour, and while Mirah usually plays solo, all of the musicians had a chance to perform with each other during this performance.
“It feels more intricate,” she said. “I don’t usually have the experience trying to recreate the recordings in a live setting because it seems too complicated to try to do that alone, and I don’t usually have so many people around. And sometimes I don’t remember what I did on the recording.”
One of the most striking things about Mirah’s music is how well her voice goes together with her guitar. I had been curious whether she recorded her guitar and vocal parts together or separately for her albums.
“It depends,” she answered. “Some of them I record together. Like on the new album, the song called ‘Struggle,’ I did the guitar and vocals together. A couple of songs Phil (Elvrum) played the guitar or we split it up, and sometimes I’d be playing and sometimes he’d be playing and we pieced it together on tape. Most of the recordings aren’t recorded very live. Only a couple of times have we done that. Like the song ‘Light the Match’ from ‘Advisory Committee’ — that was recorded live and I’d hardly ever done that before — everyone playing at the same time.”
Mirah began playing guitar when she was 19, during her second year at The Evergreen State College. She started attending college when she was 17 years old. After she mentioned that, we all had something in common — my friend started attending college when she was 16, and so had I.
Before I started rolling tape for the interview, I expressed my issues with being an interviewer; I tried to eschew the traditional question/answer format and actually have a conversation.
“I forget to also ask questions and be engaged in a reciprocal way,” I said, “because it feels like I’m the wall and I’m getting these words bounced at me, and I have to respond, and it’s not that natural.”
With that said, I didn’t feel like just jumping in with another question. Rather awkwardly, I continued: “We’re just having breakfast.” Breakfast with a tape recorder rolling, that is.
About the time Mirah’s food finally arrived, the topic of conversation had shifted to voting.
“I was really excited for the first time I could vote. It wasn’t like, ‘Yay, I can finally make a difference, this is going to mean a lot,’ but I was excited to try it. I voted for Bill Clinton. It was (his) first term, because I thought, ‘An independent candidate’s never going to win, and this is what I should do. It is my right to have this power to cast a vote.’ So I voted and afterwards, I felt so shitty. I felt so used — immediately. I had a very disempowering experience,” Mirah said. “Then I started realizing local politics does make a difference, like who’s on the city council, and that stuff.”
Earlier, Mirah had asked my friend Amy whether she had real maple syrup with the waffle she ordered. Two months out of every year, Mirah makes maple syrup at her family farm in Pennsylvania.
“During sugaring season, we seriously just drink it. Because, you know, you have to test each batch,” she said. “It’s a lot of hard work, which I find fun.”
Mirah began singing when she was young because her family always sang. She recently toured with her sister, who is also a musician.
“My sister is amazing; I think her voice is more beautiful than mine,” she said.
To which I responded: “I don’t know about that.”
During her shows, Mirah often sings a capella songs.
“It’s such a different experience to be singing a capella because when there’s a lot of other sounds going on, you have to try to listen to all these different things, and check everything all the time. It’s not just some natural thing that’s coming out of your body — it’s like your ten arms. When I sing alone, I’m more present in my body.”
Surprisingly, Mirah’s beautiful full guitar progressions are not grounded in theory. She played violin when she was young and could sight read then, but she has since lost the knowledge.
“It didn’t occur to me that I had learned a language and it would be useful for me to remember it and incorporate it into my life,” she said. “I do regret that. It’s not quite important enough for me to go there. I’m not theory based at all with either my songwriting or guitar progressions. I don’t keep track of what chords I’m playing. It’s just by ear.”
By the time our time had expired, it was 10 a.m., so we hurried off to class. Mirah moved outside to finish her breakfast with her bandmates, and as we rode past on our bicycle, we waved goodbye one last time.
Amy Lee Seidenverg contributed to this reporter’s notebook.