by Tamara Wieder
portraits by Liz Linder
One long day in the life of
Ellis Paul, one of Boston's biggest and most
hard-working folksingers.
It is
9:30am, a dismal Friday in Boston. On the Mass Pike, the sky is throwing water darts at
the last remnants of the rush-hour traffic. It's been raining for days, and Ellis Paul has
had enough.
"This is why
California is where it's at," says the Maine-bred, Medford-based singer-songwriter,
who's just returned from a two-week touring stint on the other coast. Though his body had
begun to adjust to being back in Beantown, his attitude is lagging. "I'd wake up
every morning and the sun would be shining and it would be 70 degrees."
He glances sideways
at the water snaking down his window and shakes his head: "I need a change."
It seems he's getting
his wish. After nearly 10 years 10 years of toiling on the often bruising national
singer-songwriter circuit, logging more than 200 shows annually, the folk musician now
appears to be taking his career to the next level.
Last weekend, when
moviegoers flocked to see Me, Myself, and Irene - Jim Carrey's newest cinematic
romp and another buzzed-about film from the Farrelly brothers - they got what, for most of
them, was a first taste of Ellis Paul. "The World Ain't Slowin' Down," a tune he
wrote for his last studio album, 1998's Translucent Soul, was handpicked by the
filmmakers to be the movie's featured song. The night before, Paul sang the National
Anthem when the Red Sox took the dreaded Yankees at Fenway Park. Paul, who is accustomed
to audiences in the high single digits, last week managed to charm a capacity crowd of,
oh, just 32,000 or so, give or take a few single digits.
All of which is a
break for Paul, and a welcome one. Forget what you've heard about folk singers ad their
idealistic desire to lead quiet, wholly artistic lives as far from the commercial,
corporate music world as their VW buses will carry them. Paul will gladly take the
commerce and the corporations - and the money and fame that are sure to follow - as long
as he can continue making the kind of music he wants to make.
Which is why, on this
water logged Friday morning, when most of those who aren't required to be doing time in an
office are surely doing their best to sleep off the gloom, Paul, along with his longtime
manager and friend, Ralph Jaccodine, is barreling down the Pike - reporter in tow - toward
New York City, where he'll play to a sold-out crowd at the Fez.
And that's not all.
The East Village concert is actually a release show for his new double LiveCD.
And while in New York, he'll also interview at SESAC, a performing rights organization,
which will arrange for United Airlines to air his work in its in-flight channel.
This Medford guy is
taking on the world, and he seems to be winning.
It didn't start out
that way. Growing up in rural Presque Isle, Maine, this grandson of a potato farmer and
son of an agriculture specialist never planned to become a professional musician - but
neither did he intend to follow in his family's farming footsteps. "I'd rather just
grow pot in my backyard." admits Paul, 35.
It wasn't until his
junior year at Boston College, where he'd gone on a track scholarship (Paul's 1984 time
still stands as one of BC's top five performances in the 10,000 meters), that a knee
injury and subsequent surgery left him with time on his hands. During that time, he picked
up a guitar, taught himself to play and never turned back.
"I started
playing on the open-mike circuit in Boston with a bunch of friends who were songwriters
just starting out," he says. "I would go from club to club every night and we'd
gather around and drink and cavort and share stories. It was a great, thriving hotbed for
songwriters. The singer-songwriter scene has always been great around Boston, with all the
radio support and famous clubs that have been around forever, and eager audiences - it's a
great place to figure out how to write songs."
For a novice, he
figured it out quickly. Accolades rained down: 10 Boston Music Awards, enraptured
audiences from Carnegie Hall to the Newport Folk Festival, and a "Best Bet for
Stardom" prediction from USA Today.
The only thing
that has proved elusive is commercial radio exposure. "The question is, What is the
dartboard you're aiming for?" Paul says. "My dartboard isn't a very commercial
one. I'm playing with handmade darts."
The Folk Following
© Improper Bostonian 2000
