Dirty Linen

Howling at the Moon
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Connie Kaldor talks with Pieter Hofmann

Kaldor Connie Kaldor loves to talk. And her favorite subjects, for anyone with a sympathetic ear, are her children and her music. Droll and charming, the Canadian-born Kaldor has reason to be in a fine state of mind. Recently signing a three-record deal with Rounder Records, things are changing quickly for the singer/songwriter. She just may be coming in from the prairie cold with her American debut, Small Café. A staple on the Canadian folk scene for the past two decades, she senses the time is ripe for her whimsical songs to find a market south of the border.

Boasting a wide range of musical styles, Kaldor’s eighth release captures her wry humor and entertaining presence that is not far removed from Cheryl Wheeler or Christine Lavin. “I guess when Rounder signed me, I fell into their singer/songwriter category. I think they see me in a sub-category, though. For one thing, I’m Canadian, and for another, there is some humor in my writing. So I’m in that kind of soup. There is also a fringe theatrical side to my music. Kind of mini-Broadway. You could call me a broad from Broadway.”

A factor that separates Kaldor from her ilk is variety. In a live setting, her repertoire may include a gospel-tinged tune, a child’s lullaby, a song about being run over by the big truck of love or a piece (“Down To A River”) which she wrote at the funeral of a friend who died of cancer. “I just hate the fact that people say that your music has to sound all the same. If I went to a concert and it seemed to be the same song repackaged over and over again, I’d walk out.”

With Small Café, Kaldor finally captures the essence of what makes her concerts such an event. Each of the twelve songs has its own tasty flavor that adds to the complete dish. “I tried to be more acoustic on this album in comparison to my previous records,” she says from her adopted city, Montreal. “I was getting people saying, ‘Gee, I like your records but you’re much better live.’ ” A more polished and intimate outing than her last album, 1994’s Out of the Blue, Small Café found the longtime member of Hart Rouge, Paul Campagne, behind the controls for the production. Kaldor’s past few albums were produced by Vancouver folk artist Roy Forbes. “I really enjoyed working with Roy but it was more a geography problem. He was working on other projects on the West Coast and, well, 3,000 miles is a long way to go. Particularly when you have children.” Working with Campagne — who is also her husband — had its benefits. “It became more like an in-house project and besides, I got to sleep with the producer.”

Born in Regina, Saskatchewan, 44 years ago, Kaldor was introduced to music at an early age. Her father was a choir-director at a local Lutheran church. “He was quite musical. Lutherans can’t dance but at least they can sing. The radio was always on around the house. I grew up listening to Patsy Cline and the Beatles. In grade two I joined the Fab Four’s fan club; but they were all guys. What really gave me a kick was when I first heard Laura Nyro and Carol King. And then there was Joni Mitchell, who was from Saskatchewan...It had less to do with their writing styles or music but more with the fact that they made it in a field dominated by males.”

Picking up a guitar in high school and already capable on the piano, Kaldor began performing around Regina. Eventually she moved to Edmonton, Alberta, where she studied theater at a local university. Graduating in 1975, Kaldor moved to Toronto where she joined Theatre Passe Maraille, an avant-garde drama company. After a few years she gravitated back to music.

With a famine of female singers in Canada at the time, Kaldor developed her songwriting acumen and comfortable stage presence by traveling the Canadian folk circuit. Within two years Kaldor was part of the “Canadian Wave;” which featured artists as diverse as Ferron, Stan Rogers, and Spirit of the West. Suddenly Kaldor was an established festival headliner and ready to record. Unfortunately, the record industry found her a difficult commodity to market. Forming her own label, Coyote Records, in 1981, Kaldor recorded her debut, One of these Days, to critical acclaim. Her sophomore LP, 1984’s Moonlight Grocery, garnered a Juno nomination for Most Promising Female Vocalist in Canada. “At the time, when I started Coyote, nobody wanted to touch me. The record companies were more concerned with pop music and they didn’t know what to do with me. If they can’t pigeonhole you, they just scratch their heads. I’ve done so many different things that it’s difficult to find a phrase that sticks.” She laughingly remembers when somebody once described her as a cross between Woody Allen and Woody Guthrie. “I know that folk is on the fringe of music when it comes to sales, but what they forget is that once you get your audience, the people will still be with you for years. There is security in that. A pop audience is more fickle. They prefer the flavor of the day.”

Through the Canadian government, Kaldor toured China, India and Europe as a musical goodwill ambassador for Canada in 1992. Joining her was one of her children: one-and-a-half year old Aleksi. “He was a little ambassador all on his own. Everybody would swarm around him in amazement.”

Kaldor remembers her show in Beijing. “I got on stage and sang my western music and the crowd went mental. I thought I was at a Van Halen concert. Back then, they didn’t get to hear that type of stuff. I went out there and played the most rip-snorting material in my repertoire and it was like I was some guitar god.” Asked if she played any heavy guitar solos she says, “I spared them that misery.”

India provided its own special appeal for Kaldor. “When we were up in Northern India, in Simla, we stayed at the hotel where ‘Kim’ (Rudyard Kipling) was written. It was beautiful. Right out of the Raj. It was perched on a mountain and had all these monkeys on the roof. You had to climb up these valleys on winding roads for hours to get there. The bus that took us up there had all these soldiers with Uzis guarding us. It was just around the time Rajiv Gandhi was assassinated.”

While providing albums of photographs, it had little effect on her career from a sales perspective. In the past few years Kaldor has focused on Canada. “I decided that I had to cement our own market before we looked toward the U.S. Canada is still my bread and butter.”

Now, after almost two decades, a new album and a contract for three albums with Rounder in hand, Kaldor believes that the wait has been worthwhile. “Does Rounder open doors? I hope it does. They’re a well-respected label and in a sense provide credibility. But that doesn’t mean that they are going to make me a star. You have to be out there touring and working. I don’t expect them to drop everything and sell Small Café on every street corner. But I do think they have an understanding of my music, which makes things much easier. They’re not a company that would say, ‘Hey, you are going on tour with Aerosmith next week.’ Mind you, I’d love it. That would really blow peoples’ minds...and add a few dollars to my bank account.”

While chances are slim to none that she will be in the support slot of Steve Tyler & Co., Kaldor’s Small Café should win over new fans in the United States and add to her loyal Canadian following. Somewhat of a three-ring circus, Small Café places the spotlight on a variety of styles.

In the best tradition of a weaver of tales, Kaldor leaves her audience in anticipation of the unexpected. From track to track, Small Café travels the detours of Kaldor’s quirks and follies. As if to push the point home, the title of her latest album reasserts her preferred sense of ambiguity. “Well, a café can be a greasy spoon or a high-class French bistro. It could have soft lighting or bare lightbulbs. Like a record, they have a menu. And if this record doesn’t work, I just may be the waitress working in some small café.”

As for the demise of Coyote Records in the near future, that seems unlikely. While Rounder will carry her next three albums in the U.S., Coyote still maintains Canadian distribution rights. “Truthfully, I would love it if Coyote would just fold and all I would have to do is sing and write songs. God, let Rounder take over. I’ve tried to kill this label several times. It’s like nasty housework. The housework of the music business. You don’t see me on the phones, doing my income tax, making sure everything isn’t complete chaos. People just see you smiling on stage.”

Kaldor’s fascination with coyotes not only surfaces as the label’s name and logo but finds its way into her songs such as “Coyote’s Call,” on Small Café. “I’m from the prairies and I grew up with them in the back of my mythology. I always thought that one would eat me on the way to the outdoor toilet,” she laughs. “They survive against all odds, whether it’s in the city or in the country. They travel a lot. And I guess they are a voice calling in the wilderness. Being in this business, sometimes I feel like a coyote; a voice howling at the moon.”

Having to juggle motherhood and being on the road surprisingly poses few problems. “I’ve had my two children traveling with me for the most part. This is the first year that they’ve actually stayed at home. They hate it when they can’t come along. They love touring. For me, it’s actually more enjoyable. When I’m at home I have to wash and cook and those other things. When we travel together, I don’t have to do those chores. I can actually see my children. It gives me time to be with them.”

Now residing in Montreal, Kaldor sees the change in location as a mixed blessing. “I’m behind the Franco-curtain here, but I think I’m far enough up the foodchain as to not disappear totally from the English music scene. It would probably be better if I were located in Toronto or Vancouver, surrounded by my peers. But there are advantages. I play hit and run across the border. I can go down to Boston and play a show and be home that night and tuck the kids in bed. Boston is closer for me than Toronto. The East Coast of the States has such a rich folk tradition and supportive network that it makes it worthwhile living here.

Considering Canada’s population base, the magnet that pulls any artist south of the border must be appealing. “There aren’t many spots to play here. We have maybe 20-25 cities, and calling some of them cities is a bit of a stretch. If you just play the same places over and over again, you are going to run out of steam and fall into the ocean. Twenty-five spots for the whole of Canada? You have to make good money on those dates to support yourself.”

Connie Kaldor has always survived and her U.S. arrival with the eclectic Small Café may signal another chapter for one of Canada’s true musical voices. “If you push the boundaries of what is folk, if you consider the folk scene as a springboard and don’t put yourself in some convenient box, it gives you some latitude to play with all the curves and angles of the music industry. You just have to keep plugging away.”

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