Robert Blake

To understand singer/songwriter Robert Sarazin Blake, one need look no further than his press materials. Typically, Recoil will receive a glossy folder filled to the brim with news articles printed and formatted to perfection on glossy photo paper. Each article seems to stumble over the next in an effort to praise the artist (after all, why include harsh criticisms?), only to be kinged by the artist biography. Visit any major label artist's website for an example of the trite, cliché-riddled French kiss each record company bestows – in 500 words or less.

Blake's pack included a hand-typed letter thanking Recoil for taking the time to pay him attention, printed on a piece of white paper that was once used as a rough draft for some sort of property agreement three years ago. The two articles he includes are photocopies of magazine pages with the sides torn hinting that he's lost his scissors. It screams first grade art project, not professional press kit... until you get to his new album.

Blake – who'll play Kalamazoo's Kraftbrau Brewery Feb. 21 – has figured it out: A glossy press kit doesn't matter squat if the music is thoughtless. The Bellingham, Wash., native is more folk hero than phony. The Beautiful and the Afternoon, Blake's sixth album, and his first in three years, is an exploration of marriage (he's not married) and family, as well as his thoughts on night versus day.

"The balance is between the blissful illusion of the nighttime and the plain reality of the afternoon," Blake told Recoil from his temporary home in Washington. "It's my very sort of narrative style, but I'm playing with a great band so it's mixed with wonderful moments of improvisation."

The cabin he's staying in is actually 60 miles from Bellingham, secluded from the buzz of the city or the hum of the highways. Blake seems more reflective than reclusive however – a man who enjoys solitude versus a man who spurns company even though he'll go four days without seeing another soul.

The Beautiful and the Afternoon was recorded same-room style, like all of his projects. Instead of spending hours and dollars mixing tracks with overdubs and retakes, Blake simply gathers his band – steel guitars and harmonica included – heads into the studio and pushes "record." Everyone plays while looking at each other, at the same time.

"I believe that there's a lot of strength that you get from recording in the same room," he said, "and I don't do it just for the kitsch or the aesthetic, I actually believe you get a great version of the song. You may not get the perfect version, but I don't believe there is a perfect version. You get a great moment; you get a moment [when], ideally, the musicians are really listening to each other and trying to respond to each other."

He records on analog tape, giving the album almost an old-timey feel. If his lyrics were a bit more dated, and his music a little less modern, one could close their eyes and travel back to days spent on Grandpa's lap, listening to his old 45s. It's very comforting.

"What I understand is making music with other people, and connecting with them and trying to capture that."

Blake's Feb. 21 show at Kraftbrau with fellow troubadour Andrew Bemis will support Blake's new album even though it isn't officially available until early March. He'll travel to Kalamazoo by train, and said Bemis has agreed to pick him up. Bemis also travels by any means but automobile, and Blake said doing so often provides strange and unexpected gigs. He'll play basements, living rooms, bars and clubs. He even played in the back alley of a Missouri movie theatre once, but that show was hardly impromptu.

"It was flyered for," Blake said dryly.

Visit sameroomrecords.com for more details on Blake and his tour.