Scott Whiddon’s Best of Intentions

Singer-songwriter Scott Whiddon talks about the themes behind his new album ‘The Best of Intentions’. Dive into the mind of a storyteller as Scott discusses his influences and the approach he took in crafting lyrics for this album.

Your new album is ‘The Best of Intentions’. Can you share the inspiration behind the title?

Here’s something funny. A lot of folks think that the line is from Shakespeare, but it’s not – even though it appears in the late 60s film version of Romeo and Juliet. There’s something like it in Boswell’s biography of Samuel Johnson (a favorite book of mine!), and there’s even something akin to it in The Book of Sirach, an early Hebrew text.

One of the earliest versions of this line is from the Aeneid: “facilis descensus Averno.”  Or: the descent to hell is easy.

I’m not sure that’s all I had in mind, but it’s certainly part of it; the record was written during part of the pandemic, so there’s that. And part of the record deals with mental health issues, to some degree.

What I do know is that I had limited tools to work with to write and make the record, and I knew that I was going to be depending on the kindness of friends and strangers alike to help get it out into the world. What we can rely on most, all in all, is ourselves and our own sense of intentionality and purpose.

Second single “Maybe That’s Enough For Now” seems to explore the theme of acceptance. Can you delve into the personal experiences or reflections that inspired this track?

There’s a book by Joe Carducci called Enter Naomi: SST, L.A., and All That. It’s a fantastic account of not only Carducci’s first-hand experience with the famed SST Records in its heyday, but also of the photographer Naomi Petersen. Petersen’s photographs – mostly in sharp black and white – gave a sense of drama and timelessness to bands such as Black Flag, The Minutemen, and more. Petersen died of cancer at age 38. You can see some of her work on IG at @punkrocknaomi – curated by her brother, Chris. Chris is a great gent. Total class act.

I re-read Carduci’s book at the height of pandemic lockdown and thought a lot about the stories that Petersen told via her images. It struck me that, even though I might not have realized it, I’d spent a lifetime looking at these photographs via fanzines and other punk rock ephemera. While “Maybe That’s Enough For Now” is a long way from the sounds that Petersen helped document, and while Naomi is only part of the song, I was excited to try and weave parts of her story with other images and ideas. It’s strange to reference a punk rock photographer in a song that also nods to 70s West Coast songwriters such as Warren Zevon, but I also like how this contrast plays into my record as a whole.

I’m honored that Jay Gonzalez of Drive-by Truckers generously added some lovely keys parts to this single. And, I was also able to collaborate with Louisville-based visual artist Lori Larusso and digital artist Brian Powers in making this video for the single. 

J. Tom Hnatow produced your new album. What was it like working with him and how did his influence shape the final sound of the album?

Tom is magical. Absolutely magical. He’s a killer player – keys, guitar, bass, pedal steel, you name it. But more importantly, he knows how to give feedback that isn’t toxic, that makes you want to get back to the desk and rethink things. Like me, he listens to a wide range of music, and he’s also quite the reader, film enthusiast, and more. All of that plays into Tom’s incredible intellectual sensibility. Tom is currently on the road with the great John R. Miller; he’s also collaborated with artists ranging from MynaByrds to Ringo Starr, which means I’m one degree of separation away from a Beatle. 

What was the inspiration behind first single “I Can’t Remember the Things I Love”?

In all honesty, a handful of those lines were simply from a conversation with Robby Cosenza, who plays drums on the record and is one of my best friends. Those lines ended up in the notebook and, later, ended up as the first song I wrote for this project.

Let’s just say it was a strange time for everyone.

In addition to your solo work, you perform with Letters of Acceptance. How does your approach to music change when working on solo projects versus collaborating with a band?

I get to play with amazing folks in Letters. Tim was a long term vet of Paul K and the Weathermen; Paul might be one of the single most critically acclaimed lyricists of his era. Clint was in Mendoza Line and Bird of Youth. John played with Harlan for years. I love all those bands. I feel lucky just to be invited to the party.

In that band, I’m a bass player. So I play a supportive role. I help with arrangements and ideas, but my role is to work with ideas that kinda already exist, rather than develop new ones. It’s a joy to hang with that crew. John Norris is a nationally recognized visual artist, and every conversation with him is an education, indeed.

You’ve developed film scores for various projects. How does creating music for film differ from composing for your solo albums or bands? Can you share any memorable moments or challenges you encountered while developing film scores for projects?

All of the film work was instrumental – playing to support and add to a thing that already kind of exists: a set of images, a story, etc. Not having to worry with lyrics helps free things up, but also adds another set of challenges in composition. My favorite memory of working on Rothstein’s First Assignment was exploring the Berea College archives for recordings of 1930s/40s musicians from the Shenandoah Valley region – lots of old time folk and bluegrass. My father was a bluegrass player, so it was lovely to go back to those sounds, and see what I could make of them.

As a writer, teacher, and musician, how do these different roles intersect and influence one another in your creative process?

That’s a tough question. I’m lucky to be tenured at a small college here in Kentucky that has a deep appreciation for the arts – especially music and writing. I get to work with some people who don’t think it’s weird that a professor can also play in rock bands and do short tours. I certainly approach writing lyrics and writing scholarly work differently, but I do think that many of the skills I’ve developed as a teacher and program director play into my life in art: how to plan a project, how to break up a big challenge into smaller challenges; how to collaborate and actively listen; how to look for the story that doesn’t get told enough. 

‘The Best of Intentions’ is your second solo album. How has your musical approach evolved since your debut?

Well, I kinda see it as my first full-length, as Close Quarters with the Enemy was an EP, and then I did a whole bunch of singles. I think I’ve become a better studio player, due to Tom’s wonderful influence. I hope I’ve become a better storyteller.

Here’s something: In the middle of writing the record, I took my lyric notebook and a pair of scissors and cut up everything I had written for a year into tiny bits. I laid the scraps of lyrics on the floor of my practice space here in Lexington and started to tape things together – looking for patterns, things that sounded good together, things that were less traditionally narrative in scope. I think that method helped me uncover elements that I would normally not see as a writer.

Are there specific artists that you find yourself drawn to for inspiration?

I listen to a lot of different kinds of music – from bebop era jazz to noise rock to classical chamber music to the Grateful Dead. But, here’s 5 records that influenced The Best of Intentions in terms of composition or production.

Cats and Dogs/Royal Trux. It’s dumb rock played by very smart people – loud, messy, sloppy, but with a wink in its eye and a trick up its sleeve.

Somewhere on the Golden Coast/The Henry Clay People. I wish more folks knew about this band. They called it quits a few years ago; one of them is now in a really fun project called Near Beer. Again, smart lyrics with nods to Pavement and other 90s rock for folks who likely took honors classes at some point. Opening for them in Lexington on their final US tour was a dream come true. We talked about Mike Watt and van repairs.

Late for the Sky/Jackson Browne. I know, I know. He can be a bit hard to take, but those lyrics and sense of production! That record takes a hard, honest look at heartbreak. If you don’t get at least a little choked up at that bridge section of the title track, you should just call it a day.

Fort Recovery/Centro-Matic. If the world were fair, the Centro-matic guys would be millionaires. That band was incredible – great lyrics, great production. Will Johnson also has amazing solo records and now plays with Jason Isbell. I love it when the good guys win.

Here Come the Warm Jets/Brian Eno. No, my record doesn’t sound like that, but Eno is a hero to me, and likely to you as well, and I love his sense of production and how he approaches lyrics in that 70s run of records. 

But in all honesty, the biggest influence? The folks who played on the record: Dave Cobb from local heroes Movie Jail. Blake Cox from The Worn Jets. Robby Cosenza (who’s played with all kinds of amazing folks such as These United States and Horse Feathers). John Ferguson from Apples in Stereo. Tom, too, and likely most of all. The company that I am lucky enough to keep sets a high bar to aspire to. 

Looking ahead, what projects do you have coming up?

My pals in Letters of Acceptance and I have our debut full-length album coming out on vinyl in January 2024, which I’m quite excited about. I’ve also got another run of solo acoustic shows around the region in the works. And, I’m already writing the next batch of solo songs, too. 

Further information

Scott Whiddon – The Best of Intentions album

A Door for a Desk, the online home of Scott Whiddon

Letters of Acceptance website