Sheryl Crow Teaches Us About Her Top Music Influences
51m 23s
Cheryl Crow, a musician and mother from Missouri, recounts her deep musical journey from childhood in a family of swing band enthusiasts to her successful career in music. Her early exposure to diverse genres through family records and live sessions instilled a lifelong connection to music as both a form of expression and emotional survival. She shares a humorous story of calling Bob Dylan for writer’s block advice, which unexpectedly led to the creation of “Suck Up the Sun” with collaborator Jeff Traut. Their musical partnership, rooted in mutual respect and complementary styles, became a source of creative authenticity and emotional grounding. Cheryl emphasizes that music is not just entertainment but a lifeline through personal struggles, including motherhood, depression, and health challenges. She believes that originality stems from lived experience and emotional truth, not technical skill or AI replication, and that songs carry enduring human value. Her work reflects a deep respect for musical legacy, community, and empathy—seen in her admiration for artists like Stevie Nicks, Prince, and the Beatles. She also highlights the power of live performance and the shared emotional experience between artists and audiences, noting how music fosters connection, hope, and resistance in times of personal and societal change. Ultimately, Cheryl sees music as a sacred, human act that outlives its creator and continues to inspire, heal, and unite.
- Just introduce yourself. - My name is Cheryl Crow. I am the mother of two. I was born in Kenneth, Missouri, and I'm a musician. (upbeat music) - Come on. - Okay, you wanna hear something really funny about us? - Yes. - That song, which was after the Globe Sessions, Jeff Trott and I were working at Clinton Studios. I mean, I have so many New York memories. - We're here. - We're here, I love it. - You're familiar with this block? - I'm very familiar with this block. In fact, some of my favorite memories come from right across the street. I lived at 46 Great Chones. I was on the second floor, right next to the fire department. But anyway, working on a record could not finish anything. I felt like, oh my god, I've spent a million dollars on a record and haven't finished anything. Make a long story longer, I'm going through a writer's block. So I remember I met Bob Dylan when I opened up for him. In 1994, at the Rose Land Ball Room. And he's like, call me anytime. I'm here to, you know, I've watched you. I feel like you had a big future. I've been through it all blah, blah. So I thought, you know what? Bob Dylan, I heard he went through a writer's block. So I called him and I was like, hey, Bob, Cheryl Crow, you tell me to call him, you know? And he's like, hey, hey, Dylan. And I said, hey, I'm trying to finish a record and I have literally not finished anything in like eight months and I feel like I've writer's block and I said, I can call him because I heard that you had writer's block. He's like, no, never did. Anyway, it went on from there. But the funny thing was, I was down with a stomach bug and my friend, Jeff Traut, was here. And we wound up writing "Suck Up the Sun" in that apartment the day after I talked about Dylan. Not that he had anything to do with it, but yeah. So it's a full circle moment. Who's Jeff? Jeff Traut, I wrote a lot of stuff on my second record, "The Cheryl Crow Record" in New Orleans with Jeff. He was supposed to go out with "The Wallflowers" and I called him and said, hey, do you want to come to New Orleans and write some songs? And he did and we worked together since just, you know, great, great riff guy. I call him my musical husband. You know, I've always got something to say, but sometimes it's nice to have a rock guitar player. - You're continuing to this day. You're working with him now, right? - Yeah, literally. It's the perfect marriage, I don't live with him. I don't share kids with him, you know, not looking through our bank account. So he gets to go home after we're done working. - But something clicks when you're together. - Something clicks. Yeah, and I, you know, I don't know if there's an argument for I'm so open to like reincarnation of you known, people in your life have you known him in every life, whatever. But we have such a good musical marriage as in, I get around on a lot of instruments and I'm mostly a keyboard or a piano player, but I grew up with Elton John who does rock and Todd Rendon and Stevie Wonder and Carol King. I mean, great players, but I wanted to be Keith Richards. And Jeff was sort of like, not a poor man's Keith Richards, he was a difference. He was somewhere in between Keith Richards and maybe like in the punk era, maybe, you know, just somewhere in between T-Rex and this tone. So it was just great. It gave me a little bit of an alter ego. - What was on the record player like when you were a kid? - We had a big magnum box. I mean, everything was quite different then and we had record collections and my parents were both very musical and I'm almost a piano teacher and they played in a swing band. Just for fun with a whole bunch of their friends and they would go do gigs like in town and outside of town and then they would come back afterwards and drink and smoke and play along to records from Count Basie to Stan Kitten to backtrack. I mean, everything and they would jam and sing and I grew up, you know, my sisters and I and my younger brother, you know, that's what we heard downstairs on the weekends from like 12 until two or three or whatever. So I just was introduced to a lot of different kinds of music from like great big band stuff to my parents were really into like pop music like Carol King and like I said, Bert Backrack and James Taylor was a big one for me and then later on I started to kind of curate my own thing. - You saw them playing music, literally playing music on the speakers but playing music themselves. Do you think like always music is going to be a part of my life or did that come later? - I don't know when you're little if you're thinking about the rest of your lives. In fact, you know, I think I'm out of in second or third grade when I realize that everybody else's parents weren't doing that, you know, and honestly, I don't remember ever thinking I wasn't, that I was going to do something else. It was just the thing I knew how to do it and I think sometimes you, you know, you formulate your identity around the thing that you're good at and I wasn't the best at it but I knew how to do it in a way that was entertaining. - You became a teacher. - I did. - Just because, like what you're talking about, you're like, I know how to do this. This is not really, I mean, I think, you know, when you're a kid that is living in the Midwest and you have, you know, parents who are telling you, the music thing's really great, but let's get a degree so you have something to fall back on. Yeah, so the fall back on is that way of saying, you're really good, but we don't believe that you're really good at it. Like, we don't know how that would work. So maybe you prepare for a real job, you know? - That was me saying I want to make YouTube videos. You're like, what's YouTube? - Yeah, yeah, yeah. And I will tell you that I taught school for a couple of years. I started to do some work in town singing commercials, but my first really big backup singing gig in LA was for Johnny Mathis, and I remember calling home and telling my parents and they're like, that's great, you've made it, you can come home now. Come on, you know, back to teaching. Yeah, so I just kind of followed the, I followed the trajectory of what do I do next? I'm young, I'm writing songs, I'm playing cover bands and playing originals, and I can't do this forever. So what's the next step? And that's kind of how my career was. And I will say I was ambitious. (upbeat music) I had the haircut, I had the shag. And it's conceivable that I had a couple of shaws and a curling iron. What's, well he, oh sorry, go ahead. - So you go. (laughing) I want to just tell you something that's incredible. And as I get older, I reflect on this almost every day. I literally was a kid that grew up with rumors and flip a Mac and between Stevie and Linda Ronstat. That was who I wanted to grow up to be. And then many, many, many, many years later, I met Stevie and got to work with her. And every kid that I meet, I'm just like, you cannot envision what could actually be possible. Is that infinite possibility thing? Like whatever you think that you could do, you have no idea. Like I would never in a million years thought I would ever not only meet Stevie, but get to sing with her and write with her and produce her. I mean, so I've lived in incredibly, I would say blessed life. I don't even know what to call that. I really don't know what to call it. - There are these like boxes that people think about music in different boxes and categories. And I find that your an artist that doesn't really fit so neatly into those boxes and a lot of the music. And it's a similar thing with Fleetwood Mac where they've sort of exploded it. And they can do all sorts of things. And they've lasted for so many years in different iterations. Must have been an inspiration to you just to hear these, to hear these records, these huge pop records. But so many different ways that they could go. - Yeah, I think, you know, and I don't know how it is for kids now, but when you're growing up in a small town, and I mean, we weren't in Cluster and Airport, we were like 120 miles from Memphis. Music for me and the actual physical copy and the music coming out of the speaker was my way of thinking about getting out. I mean, that was my way out. It was like I could go to the local drug store and sit in the back and drink coaks out of glass bottles with my friends and look over cream magazine and Rolling Stone. And that was, that's how we learned, or how we sort of created what we thought were these people that were rock stars. Not knowing them, not having curated social media, all that stuff. I mean, it was all very romantic. And you dreamed about getting on a plane. You dreamed about stepping out on stage and playing for people. And with Stevie, you know, when you are a kid that really does the deep dive into music, you start learning, well, gosh, what they're doing sounds a lot like somebody that came before them, like you can hear the cut, she talks about like being influenced by the Everly Brothers. And once she said that, I was like, oh, so yeah, I can hear the harmonies that she and Lindsay had before they got in and then how they incorporated [BLANK_AUDIO]
So, there are so many threads and so many -- I mean, I look at our references, our musical dictionaries as being so sacred, because is anything really original when you -- one of the most valuable things you can ever do is being a cover band, because by osmosis, you absorb what was great, the greatness, and then you, in your own way, you hack your way through it, and you're hacking that, creates your sound, you know. And I owe so much to Fleetwood Mac, and I owe so much to -- I mean, I would step to the rolling stones. I own -- I mean, I even owe -- I mean, there are people like Jeff Buckley, who I feel like were so influential on some of the stuff I did mid-career, and I mean, Joni Mitchell -- I mean, there are so many people I go, I would not be where I am. James, it's definitely one of them, you know. It's interesting, this, like, playing in a cover band and taking pieces -- oh, that's how that thing works, that's how that ends. When did you start writing songs, and when did you start to, like, find confidence in your ability to write? I never felt truly confident, I think, because I'm a person that has a very active judging voice, you know. And if it didn't measure up to, you know, Amelia by Joni Mitchell, or if it didn't -- I mean, Lancelot is a per -- I mean, Blackbird. I mean, songs that sound simple in a part of our vernacular, you write something, you go, "This sucks, man. This is really -- I'm never writing another song." You know, that's what you do, right? So, I think when I came in to Don Henley's Orbit, and I started playing him songs, and I had had some people cover my material, he was the one that said to me, "You need to not give away your songs." And if you don't know what songs are your best songs, then ask somebody else, because you need to hang on to those. And he was really the one that was like, "You do have something, but you need to not give that away." And I don't even really know if I had faith in -- I don't think I really had faith in myself writing until my second record, where I was like, "You know what, if I step into my power, but if I step into all the flaws, you know, into my authenticity and bring it to what I do, which is not going to be as pro as what other people do, it will sound like me." And that was what gave me, I think, not only on that particular record, my sound, my commitment to my authenticity. And I think it read, you know, that people bought into that as something that was unique, and that's -- I think that's when I felt like, "Okay, I sort of know what I'm doing now." How much inspiration do you get from the place you're in, because you've had these moments, like you went to LA, there's such like an LA feeling in a lot of those songs, moved to New York, probably looking for a different -- potentially looking for a different inspiration. I mean, you talked about Jeff Buckley. Yeah, I mean, I'm a person who always -- when I, you know, up until breast cancer, I ran from everything, and I never ran to anything, and a lot of my records reflected that, you know, I think your life definitely influences your art, you know, if you're being honest with yourself, I think it was Bruce that said it was like a calendar snapshot of who you are in any given moment or whatever, and that being said, there is that conflict that you have, once you have success, where you are chasing that on every record, and so sometimes you get into that headset of, like, crafting, which is the great robber of artistry. And so, you know, finding that line between trying to create something that, well, this was a big hit, and also, this is what's happening at radio, and having the pressure of, well, I don't hear it here, you know, it's just -- I don't think until I got older, was I able to, like, really settle in and go, you know what? I'm going to just write what I like, knowing the reality of my getting on radio anymore, once everything changed, was slim and nil. And there was great liberation in that, you know, to just sit down and go, fuck it. Let alone, like, when you hit so big early on, then all the other people that are benefiting, like, the label and all these other forces that are like, hey, do that one, do that again. That's like a crazy pressure, and these are people who've been like -- It's not a pressure. Especially when you walk in. Yeah, you walk on something that you really love, and they go, well, I don't hear a single, you know. It is a lot of pressure. So, you know, I think about what kids have to deal with today, like, everything is -- everything has documented, you know. But you feel this incredible pressure of being rendered obsolete. You know, when I was turning 40, Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera were the big hits at radio, and I'm turning 40, and I haven't had kids. And I'm making a record I can't finish. And everything kind of -- everything loosened after that, you know, it was -- it was interesting. I think you get so bogged down with, like, the pressure of it that it certainly doesn't -- it doesn't help your art, you know. It doesn't -- it doesn't even make you want to do it anymore, you know. But then you're forcing yourself to do it because you don't want to miss out, so. So you think, should I go to Sweden? Should I go back to school teaching? Should I go to Sweden and work with Max Barton? Oh, no, thank you. [Music] I mean, for crying out loud. [Music] All right. Can I just do this? Can I drop it? What is -- what is -- what is -- what is his music to you? What do you hear? That's a whole three-hour interview. I mean, Master of Hooks, the simplicity of that right there, it's outlived him, which for any artist, you just -- I mean, that's -- you can't fathom that your music will outlive and still continue to move people. But also, when I was on the road with Michael Jackson as a backup singer, I got to see him -- not Elena's shows, but in the clubs after -- and to see him play every instrument, I mean, he could play the piano like Chit Korea, he could go in between that to like playing bass like James Jamerson to sit down and, you know, you look at that and you go, okay, so there are some of us that are really -- that music becomes a part of, like, we're so steeped in it, it becomes part of our DNA. But then there are those that are actually born with something else. That is so not -- you can't learn it, you know, you just can't learn it. They come in with it and that's who he was, you know. And I got to be in his orbit a few times and I got to play with him a few times and record with him a tiny bit and -- He recorded -- he's recorded one of them. -- He recorded every day's a wanting road. -- Every day is the one that road -- I mean, it sounds different. It sounds different. And then he came out and played it with us. He showed up at the end of the little, little tour in Toronto. And you cannot believe an audience full of mostly women. But, you know, quite a few men and family too. And Prince walks out and rips on every day's a wanting road. -- Every day is the one that road -- I mean, I don't know if I was ever cooler than in that moment to myself. Unbelievable. Okay. You moved to Nashville. So, we got to show a little love to Tennessee. I should stay, I would only be in your way, so I'll go, but I know, I'll think of you each step off the way. And I think with Dolly, I don't doubt that there are angels on the planet, and I think she was one of them. It's been interesting being in Nashville, and I did know her, but to talk to people that didn't know her and who were feeling it like a death in the family. I think it's made everybody feel like, what could I -- what could I be doing better? How could I be helping somebody else? And I don't know if there's anything more beautiful than that, you know. Her legacy, yeah, certainly are the amazing body of work she left, but more than that, the fact that she has people looking around and going doesn't have to be mean and ugly. And who can I lift up with my blessing? Who can I bless? And you don't even walk away from church with that attitude. I mean, she's just made such a beautiful impact.
And you know, it is interesting being a kid that grew up watching TV. I mean, that's how we saw people, you know, we saw certainly Porter Wagner. We saw, I mean, I grew up watching the Mandraels and thinking my sisters and I should be able to do that, you know. I grew up watching all those shows, all the variety shows that had people that were outdoing it. And something changed when everything went universal snippets and curated and also shock, but Dolly didn't. And every single thing that she said, she made her point without being derogatory, without putting people down. She did it in a funny and extremely brilliantly smart way that made you think and go, yeah, but it was never mean. And I miss that, you know, I just, I miss it. And it definitely, her leaving has made me wake up differently. Yeah, my hope is that that side of her sort of kindness that she spread in the last couple weeks, people thinking about telling those stories, like has this ripple effect a little bit on people, just like carrying a little bit of that. I'm seeing it because it seems like the last, since she's passed, I've been in situations where I've had interviews, I've had a lot of people just normal in conversation after gigs and things saying, did you know her? And everybody's story is the same. And it's always that she, you know, she was amazing. She was so smart, she was thoughtful. She was, you know, just all those things. And that's aside from her music, you know, so. The music industry can be a little bit of a boys club, like definitely a little male, male dominated. Really? And I think she's an example of someone who didn't really, like somehow was always like on top and above, above that. But I'm curious what, what's your experience sort of it has been like in trying to face some of that. Like the pressures of, oh, you got to be like this. You got to do this. You got to live on all these, there's all these factors that a man doesn't have to deal with. Yeah, I mean, it's interesting to watch her. And especially as we learn about her story about how she started growing bigger and bigger on Porter's show. And that became somewhat threatening. And the fact that when she left there, her response to that was by writing the most epic song that ever was. I look at that and I go, OK, this is somebody who knew themselves well enough to know they had the strength to advocate for themselves. But what came out of her heart, her response that was was love. I mean, I don't even know if that is realistic in most people. I mean, it's not in me. I know that when I wanted to produce my second record, it was like, was I crazy? And so I did it and handed it in, thinking they're going to send me back and say, make a real record. I'm convinced. And certainly with Gloria Steinem's passing, I'm convinced that there will always be a power struggle. Because when women step into their power, it is threatening to men as if we have these two roles and there is a line that you don't cross. And that's unfortunate because I think at a certain point, if we don't start looking at each other as human beings, like radically start looking at each other as human beings, we're just going to be stuck in this. I'm dealing with two teenagers who, some of their feeds at one point were like, oh, this male masculine crap. But I'm just like, it's a very powerful medium to have algorithms that once they get-- then your kids start going, oh, this is normal. And that got nipped in the bud when my kid who, at the time, was 17, I guess, said something about women drivers or whatever. And that is something small, and that's been an age-old joke. But to just finally, single mom working to be able to say to your child, not in my kitchen, and to talk them through, you will be up for a job against a woman, and she might be more qualified than you. All these things along the way that we are going to eventually have to teach what it means to have a sense of what humanity means, and that means human. What kind of stuff do you listen to with your kids? On that note. I will tell you, it's really interesting because when your younger and your parents tell you how much they hate what you're listening to, and it's the devil's music, right? I can't believe you're listening to Rush. That is like satanic, all the greats of rolling stones. I would be driving along, driving my kids to grade school, and my four-year-old, five-year-old would be singing along to-- I can't remember the name of the song, "Shake It For Me," or "Strip It Down For Me," or whatever, like taking your clothes off, and I'm just going, OK. Most of pop music is about sex, and my five-year-old knows every word. When they got older, though-- and I don't know if this is just the byproduct of being exposed to it, like I was, to all of them. He's my parents' listened to. My kids got into, like, they'll listen to yacht rock and sing every word. They know the rolling stones, because they've heard it in the kitchen. They know Willie Nelson backwards and forwards. They know Neil Young. When my older kid got a guitar, first thing he wanted to learn was old man. Tune it to drop D-Mom, teach it to me. He even got into Ryan Adams. So I think, if you're lucky, and if you expose your kids to music that you feel is valuable, they wind up getting it via osmosis. They do listen to quite a lot of what's Americana, the Zach Bryan's and that kind of thing, Riley Green, but they also listen to rap, but they also listen to the Beatles. So I mean, both my kids went through an Eleanor Rigby phase. We drove to Florida, and literally for 12 hours, it was on repeat. And I was just like, they did write other good songs too. Do we have to listen to Eleanor Rigby? One more time. Yes. One more time. Yeah, I mean, I remember that as a kid not like being into the Beatles, because my parents were playing it, but then it sets in, you're like, oh, I'm glad that. Yeah. We were listening to that. [MUSIC PLAYING] I know you want to lead me, but I refuse to let you go home. If I have to make you bleed for yourself, but be I don't mind. Because you mean that, question me if you're out of there. So like this. I'm sorry. That's the best music that ever was. I'm just gonna say it right now. I mean, how much came from that right there? I mean, and then you're welcome to play the Rolling Stones version of that. I mean, it's great, you don't have to. But I'm just saying, I wish every musician grew up in cover bands, because the way the bass worked with the drum kit was a hook all in it of itself. If you're ever going to be a young producer, put your pro tools away and set up some mics and put up a groove and get a bass player that plays and locks in with the kick drum and go from there. To me, that is like the most epic beginning of the most gorgeous, soulful painting you will ever be able to like stand in front of a museum, is something that has the understanding of bringing the soul and I don't mean soul as a description of a kind of music, the actual soul. Those, the bass players that played on all that stuff, it's not a mystery that the instrument laid next to their bodies. You know what I mean? And their arm was able to just like bring it. I just, I believe that there's so many physical connections when people are playing instruments together, listening, and bringing who they are to it. So, it just grabs you, the drums, the bass, right away. It just like takes a whole lot more. Yeah, there are all these inner hooks that are working while you've got this voice over it that is also singing the main hooks and you're not even aware of it. I mean, it's like Little Red Corvette, right? All these songs that were so beautifully crafted, I don't know, I just feel like there was an education there that came before some of these people that we just brought it, we brought it through history. The same kind of thing, yeah, happening. Yeah, the interlocking pieces before, before the singing starts. ♪ All I wanna do is have a little fun before I die ♪ ♪ Just a man next to me, yeah ♪ And then, so, so that rhythm is like takes a whole of you. This is my interpretation. It lets you be like loose and free with the lyrics and sort of go on this journey 'cause I'm just so hooked into that groove. Yeah, it is funny 'cause one of the things that Bob did say to me when I called him about,
about my writer's block that he didn't have. He said, "Well, when you get stuck, just put up a great groove." No, just get your band together and play a great song over and over. - Like another song. - Another song. Like, "Ain't you proud of bag?" And then start singing your own words over it. Come up with your own hook, change the chords, find your way through it, and there you have a song. And that may sound cheap. And it also may sound intentional, but when you think about it, that groove right there is Marvin Gaye. ♪ Na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na ♪ Totally. That groove is also a plea. Steelers wheel. I mean, grooves are infectious and they're also. They can like, "Oh, that reminds me of that, da, da, da, da." They can take you back. It can't be underestimated, you know? My mom has dementia. And I will sit down and play from the great American song book, Moon River. This guy's in love and she will stand up and sing at the top of her lungs. And she's in there, but she has no idea who I am, or my dad, or anybody. But there's the music thing that is. - There's a through line that I'm picking up on, which is like almost like an advice thing to someone who wants to be a musician or whatever is just like being it, like learn a lot of great songs, play 'em. Play some more, keep playing, play it, and then you'll start to find something. That seems like it's something that happened to you over and over again. - It is, but I also think that they're incredibly talented people out there that never make it. And I've always gone to God. I'm definitely not the best singer. Definitely not the best player. I get around a lot of stuff, but I'm no parents. But I think the thing that you can't also take away from all of this is music being the lifeline. And whatever your experience is when you're young, that makes you dive deep into something that helps you not feel alone. I look at Dolly and I go, okay, she was from a family of 12 kids. How do you find yourself in all of that? I look at Prince who struggled with being the smallest kid, struggled with learning issues. I mean, all of us have a story. Even Madonna has talked about her, you know, relationship with her mom. I think her mom passed. We all have this thing that we carry with us and music seems to be the way to dig our way through staying alive, you know what I mean? As opposed to giving up and being depressed or whatever. - So you had that just thing, which I think is, it speaks to even before you started making your own songs you were making. You were just making music all the time. And it was always a part of your life. But then you ended up making some of the greatest songs of all time. So then it becomes this thing where it's like, okay, you're gonna make it because these songs are undeniable and not just once, like a bunch of times. - I mean, I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say I was very lucky. - Yeah. - I mean, I was very lucky. I was very lucky that I came up with a time that didn't revolve around like scrutiny, like social media scrutiny or whatever, 'cause I'm definitely not built for it. I got, I was probably in the last era or generation of people that got to load in their own gear. There's something very humbling about that and loading out your gear and pulling your 70 U-Haul and the day you get a tour bus, you feel like you have made it, you know. And gratitude definitely goes a long way because when you're younger, you don't have the gratitude that you have when you're older, you know. It's, I always joke about the Grammys, how they give out best new artists. I'm like, why don't you give out best old artists, you know. (laughing) Because when you get old, actually, I think is when you really dig in and write your best stuff, you know. It may not be geared to the 13 year olds, but I mean, even Dolly was writing some of her best stuff in the end, but not as many people will hear it, you know, 'cause you're not appealing to the demographic or whatever. So, but I was lucky, you know. Something happened, I resonated at radio and it became a sound and we all know how music and commerce meet and where there's money to be made, you know. Let's capitalize on that. After me, a lot of girls came out and, you know, it's typical of how it works. But the great thing about it was, I would say, is getting to produce that record and giving the opportunity to other girls to say, well, she produced her record was a good moment. Mm. ♪ Whoever said freedom was free ♪ ♪ There ain't freedom without history ♪ I will say, and I talk about it. It is interesting being my age because you do get reflective when you write, you know. And watching what's happening now politically and raising kids and the story about this is having toured Arlington Cemetery and feeling like, gosh, dang, so many people went and fought in these wars for our so-called experiment. I'm sure they're rolling in their graves that were, you know, treating each other like assholes. Yeah, I mean, I can say it all day long on social media or I can put it in a song which is the place that I know how to, you know, express myself. So, and luckily, it's been interesting. You know, we've played it live a lot and people are on board with it, you know. I think everybody's kind of feeling the same thing and I don't know if there's an opportunity in this day and age to have a zeitgeist moment, you know, like, what we have with Dylan, you know, I'd love to see Jesse Wells have that moment. I don't know that there's that opportunity where a song becomes the song of the moment or an artist becomes like this spokesperson for generation, you know, and motivates people and galvanizes movements. But the reaction that we've had to this song has been, has been really tremendous. Who's Jesse, how'd you guys get connected? Jesse Wells, if you do not know who that is, you need to check this kid out. He's a young kid who I believe from what I am told started out trying to be a rocker. And, but how I learned of him was on social media on Instagram and I would see his reels where he's standing like in the middle of a field in front of like power lines and Kentucky or whatever, singing these wicked, clever, like protest songs. ♪ I've only ever seen it in screenshots ♪ ♪ Of the old man going post a boom ♪ ♪ So I'm making the count under social ♪ - Yeah, incredible writer. - Incredible writer, like a writer like you know that he probably has read a lot, not just listened to the greats, but like read a lot. And then, and clever, and wicked clever, like Dolly was, and being able to make her point with a sense of humor, but like where you scratch your head and you go, yeah, and so I DMed him and said, dude, you give me so much hope. Dude, just my like, that means I love you, I love you. Dude, when my kid calls me dude, I'm like, anyway, and then I went up on a bill with him and he walks out with his rock guitar in his band and they are unbelievable. So shortly after he played, I attacked him like a weirdo and just was like, I'm sorry, I love you so much or incredible, I didn't even know you could play. And so he happened to be working with a friend of mine and I sent my friend this song, Mike Eluzondo and said, check out this song, tell me what you think. Has word "asshole" in it. And I think his response was, dude, I got Jesse Walst in here. Want him to sing a verse and sell. That's how it happened. - Go back to what you were saying before. We're just sending the song to somebody. What do you think about this? Check this out. - Yeah, I mean, you just don't, you can't and really underestimate the possibility of, I mean, I don't know if it's called manifesting or if it's just infinite possibility, but the fact that he was standing in the studio and sent it right back to me. Now, he did not want to sing the civics class verse. Nobody liked that verse. And I was like, nope, I'm singing the verse and then that went up being the verse that everyone has asked me about. So I'm like, okay, good. Check my guns. - Give a whole album, coming, right? - Yeah. - Short album. I mean, I would have said it was an EP, but it's seven songs. - Seven songs, yeah. - Where's it coming from? Is it coming from this same place? Or is it kind of. - Yeah, I mean, it is, I mean, I call it my sunroom music because literally for a while there, every day I would be, after the evolution, actually pre-evolution. I met a record with my calisano called evolution and that was when I started feeling like, I don't know, you know, I've always studied with, I mean, struggle with that.
of depression. I don't know how to hold all this. I don't know how to be helpless to what's happening, be a mom. And so I found that writing music was, it was a lifeline. And so this record was the result of Jeff and I say, hey, we should get together once a week and sit right as long. And we did it once a week for like eight weeks and we would get together at 10 and we would write a song before noon and be like, okay, great, that was great, you know. And then we were like, we should do something with this and we went in in a week and we both play a lot of instruments. We called a couple of buddies and recorded it and there it was. And it really is, it is, I feel like it is just a bunch of journal pages. I mean, I don't even like saying that because it sounds so woo, woo, but it's just, it's all the stuff that everybody's thinking about, you know, I feel lonely. I feel lonely when I'm with people. I feel isolated. You know, that's part of it. Also, sometimes I need a step away. Is that about, you know, there's so many things on the record that are just how I think all of us are like, you know, we're going through it. Everybody went through the California fires, but the hope in that is in all that desolation, flowers start growing, bees start coming back and we go on, life goes on and we can only go forward with a modicum of forgiveness and acceptance and let's do better and all of that. I mean, if that didn't dolly part and I don't know what is, you know. You're catching me on a day where I just weep, I'm sorry. That's good. I just think that this is a great example of just a song like this and the difference between a song and a record and how much of an impact you could have in the studio with instrumentation. I mean, the song is just like, on anybody, you know, just some person could stand on the street with nothing by themselves and sing that and it's a great song. Yeah. But then there's different ways you can interpret it. I would say one thing. I, you know, I know everybody right now is as concerned as I am about AI, right? And there was a moment where AI is going to cure cancer, AI is going to do the create jobs, all that stuff. As a musician, you to write something that not only outlives you, but that brings memories for people that is recorded about other people who, I mean Whitney Houston doing, I will always love you. There's so many incredible examples of songs, Willie Nelson's crazy that are just there. You know, I say there's the ego and then there's divinity and the ego is so masterful at crafting songs, but there's the divinity where something stepped in and you got lucky that you got to be there when it came. And that to me is my definition of God across all religions is that thing that was not before it was and that came from some place that no one can underestimate and you get lucky maybe once in your life and maybe. And I think it is largely a moment and it's largely the person, you know. I don't know what you want to say about AI is never going to be able to write a song that comes from a human experience in the way that some of these great songs that we've talked about today. It's just impossible. It's like, it's a, it's a, it's this innately human thing. I think, I don't know. But they could try and they could try and steal people's ideas and stuff. But the original thing is, it's from here. It's from human heart. Yeah, I think, I mean, I think there's a couple of things. You know, there was a moment where we went from like the cassette to a DVD, I mean, to CD. And we watched people go, well, I shouldn't have to pay for music if it's free on apps or I shouldn't have to pay $18.99 for it when I was paying $2.99. There's a value quotient in that where we're going to have to work with humanity and we're going to walk backwards a little bit and say, okay, let's investigate altruism. Let's investigate what, what is the worth of documenting the human experience? You know, we still study hieroglyphics. We're learning that people in caves actually saw UFOs because they documented it in hieroglyphics. Y'all can debate whether UFOs exist or not. But if a caveman draws a UFO panel, I mean, a spaceship panel, I must say he probably saw something that blew his mind, right? He didn't just come up with that. And that is what has documented us throughout history, right? People still, for whatever reason, stand in line and practically kill each other to get a selfie with the Mona Lisa. I mean, there are just things that outlive everything that document us. AI is data and data doesn't have feelings, it doesn't have emotions, it doesn't have discernment. But it is deeper. I mean, there is a point where we as humans have to delineate what we think has worth, you know? And that's the part I worry about, you know, because I think it's already in front of us and I think it's doing things we didn't think it could do. And I think at a certain point, if it can take my music and replicate it and somebody else use it or whatever, if I can't bring a case against somebody because it's all dark, then my hands are tied. So we have to find our way through it. And it revolves around finding good people. And we're sucking at that right now. We're putting our faith in some really bad people. What's it like playing shows? Like you're touring now, you're playing all the time now. What is it like playing a show in 2026 versus 1990? Well, 2026 as in my age is glorious because literally I got on stage. I'm lucky because I came from a time when I had hits. And I look out and I see people that are my age and younger singing the words to real gun a car song or to if it makes you happy, you're stuck up the center. I mean, you know, teenage years all the way up. And I look at my band who are apparently my age who are fantastic and we all look at each other going, oh my god, how are we getting away with getting to still do this, you know? And that's the kind of gratitude you don't have when you're younger because when you're younger, you have all these concerns, you know, whether you're relevant or whether somebody looks bored or if you got a bad review or whatever, when you get older, you're just like, oh my god, this is like the greatest thing ever. And I love every one of you turn the lights up. I want to look you in the face, you know, when you're young, you want the lights down, you don't want to see, you know, you don't want to be destroyed. It's just it's a whole different ball game. There was a moment where I was concerned a few years ago about people in their phones like nobody was present anymore. I see a little bit less of that now. I don't know why. I think maybe it's because of who we've been out with. I mean, we've been out with the outlaw tour, which is Willie Nelson, the avid brothers, Wilcoe, people that follow that kind of music are pretty much their present. To desky trucks, they're present, you know? And that's to me, that's like what it's about when strangers are in a whole big place and they're, you know, shoulder to shoulder and they're experiencing something together. You know, that's the collective molecular experience. So yeah, I feel good about it. I feel hopeful, you know, if I didn't have kids, I'd be out every single day playing every single night. But I don't want to miss out on that. And that's my real job. So I'm just thinking about, you know, you playing somewhere and playing soak up the song and someone of all ages singing back at you, but that song starting there with you, sitting in this in the window, looking out and kind of starting to strome some stuff. Yeah, then it comes. It's just like that's the human thing that can't be replicated. Like it started here here. Yeah. And now it's there. And it's with that person and it like bounced back. I know there's just something about that that's it's so human. That's a thing that goes that cuts through everything. But I think that's also one of the great things about what you're doing. And we're seeing this more now are people talking. Yeah, and we're seeing people that want to hear other people's stories. Because I think largely, and we're seeing documentaries, which I love, because no great song was ever written without someone's experience in it, you know, and or someone's or experience coming out of it. And every I'm just every great song song was written somewhere in a room. You know, I I watched the Beatles documentary. I mean, I think I had it playing on for like three weeks. I was just like, you just can't believe the power of the agreement of people in a moment.
who are good at what they do, but they're listening, and they're, I mean, that is not, we take it for granted. I mean, the Beatles were, how long were they even a band? And we're still listening to them. And you cannot take for granted that that is not just an accident or a coincidence or a happenstance. That was supposed to happen, you know, and I believe that with all of my heart, that there are just some things that were meant to be. I mean, that's a really good place to end it. Thank you for coming. Yeah, thanks for having me. It was so fun. Oh, good. I like you and talking to you. So great to meet you. Thank you. Great to meet you too. I love what you do. I love, it makes me nervous every time you're asking people what songs I'm like, oh my God, what would I do? I'm totally free. That's the big, that's the big secret is I'm not really trying to test people. Yeah. I'm trying to play songs that hopefully they have something to say about our triggers and emotion. Awesome. Thank you. Thank you so much. Fun. The Trackstar Podcast is a presentation of Public Opinion created by me, Jack Coyne, Kieran Coyne and Henry Cornaros, produced by Haley Sobel, edited by Haley Sobel, theme and original composition by Kieran Coyne, mixing by Devon Cline. Our agent is Joanne Orland at UTA. Thanks for listening. See you next Wednesday.
Podcast Summary
Key Points:
Cheryl Crow, a musician and mother from Missouri, shares how her early exposure to music through her parents' swing band and record collections shaped her lifelong passion and identity.
She recounts a humorous anecdote about calling Bob Dylan for writer's block advice, leading to the creation of “Suck Up the Sun” with Jeff Traut in a spontaneous writing session.
Jeff Traut, a key musical collaborator, represents a creative synergy where their contrasting styles—her piano-driven melodies and his rock guitar textures—create a complementary and authentic musical partnership.
Cheryl emphasizes that music served as a lifeline during times of loneliness, depression, and personal struggle, especially during her journey through motherhood and health challenges.
She reflects on the enduring power of music as a human experience, arguing that originality and emotional depth come from lived experience and connection, not technical craft or AI replication.
Music, in her view, fosters community and shared emotion—especially through live performances and cover bands—where the physical, emotional, and spiritual connection between performers and audiences is irreplaceable.
She highlights the influence of artists like Stevie Nicks, Prince, and the Beatles, noting how their authenticity, empathy, and storytelling have inspired her own songwriting and artistic direction.
Cheryl sees music as a form of legacy and resistance, with songs like "Every Day Is a Winding Road" and modern works by artists like Jesse Wells serving as expressions of hope, protest, and human connection.
Summary:
Cheryl Crow, a musician and mother from Missouri, recounts her deep musical journey from childhood in a family of swing band enthusiasts to her successful career in music. Her early exposure to diverse genres through family records and live sessions instilled a lifelong connection to music as both a form of expression and emotional survival. She shares a humorous story of calling Bob Dylan for writer’s block advice, which unexpectedly led to the creation of “Suck Up the Sun” with collaborator Jeff Traut.
Their musical partnership, rooted in mutual respect and complementary styles, became a source of creative authenticity and emotional grounding. Cheryl emphasizes that music is not just entertainment but a lifeline through personal struggles, including motherhood, depression, and health challenges. She believes that originality stems from lived experience and emotional truth, not technical skill or AI replication, and that songs carry enduring human value.
Her work reflects a deep respect for musical legacy, community, and empathy—seen in her admiration for artists like Stevie Nicks, Prince, and the Beatles. She also highlights the power of live performance and the shared emotional experience between artists and audiences, noting how music fosters connection, hope, and resistance in times of personal and societal change. Ultimately, Cheryl sees music as a sacred, human act that outlives its creator and continues to inspire, heal, and unite.
FAQs
Cheryl overcame writer's block by recalling that Bob Dylan never had it, which inspired her to call him. She then wrote 'Suck Up the Sun' with Jeff Traut the next day in an apartment, using a strong groove as a foundation to build her song around.
Jeff Traut is a rock guitarist and musical collaborator who has worked with Cheryl Crow for years. He is called her 'musical husband' because their creative synergy is powerful, and they have a deep connection that fuels their songwriting process.
Cheryl was influenced by artists like Elton John, Stevie Wonder, Carol King, James Taylor, and The Everly Brothers. Growing up in a musical household, she was exposed to big band and pop music, which shaped her diverse musical taste and sense of melody.
After teaching, she began performing in cover bands and singing commercials. Her first major backup gig was with Johnny Mathis, which confirmed her passion. She then pursued songwriting, eventually building a career as a songwriter and producer.
Music was a central part of her childhood, serving as her escape and a way to imagine a future as a rock star. She grew up listening to records and watching music videos, which helped form her identity and inspired her lifelong connection to music.
She believes cover bands are essential for learning and absorbing great music through osmosis. By playing and imitating songs, artists internalize musical styles and eventually develop their own authentic sound.
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