Alejandro Escovedo makes most of his second chance

In 2003, cult rocker Alejandro Escovedo started vomiting blood before a show one night. Not one to lay down on the job, he finished the gig only to find out he had a bad case of Hepatitis C, along with severe cirrhosis of the liver.

After nearly four decades of living life hard on the road, this was that epic moment — the one where you stand at the crossroads and try to figure out which way to go next.

For the next year, after he quit drinking cold turkey and couldn’t even pick up a guitar, dozens of musicians — Lucinda Williams, Charlie Sexton, Los Lonely Boys, his brother Pete Escovedo and niece Sheila E, Charlie Musselwhite, the Cowboy Junkies — rallied and recorded the tribute album “Por Vida” to raise money for Escovedo who, who like nearly every musician, had no insurance.

In 2006, he picked himself up from his battle with “Hep C” and recorded the critically acclaimed “Boxing Mirror.” Last year’s autobiographical “Real Animal” landed on quite a few year-end Top 10 critic’s lists, but more importantly it landed him a new manager by the name of Jon Landau — the same guy who managed Bruce Springsteen since the beginning.

Suddenly, the ’70s punker, who started out with The Nuns in San Francisco, then moved to New York for a stint at the Chelsea Hotel and then on to Austin for early alt-country bands Rank and File and True Believer, was getting more exposure in one year than he had in the 30 years prior.

He took the stage at big festivals. He played Leno, The Today Show and Conan O’Brien. He rocked the Democratic National Convention before Hillary Clinton spoke. One night in Houston, he was invited on stage by Springsteen to sing his new song “Always a Friend” (do a YouTube search for Escovedo and Springsteen) and the song landed on the Boss’s “Magic Tour Highlights” album.

Before Escovedo drops by the Mystic Theatre, he took time out to chat about his necessary near-death experience and the return of “Castanets” to his repertoire following a three-year self-imposed ban after it popped up on George W. Bush’s iPod playlist:

Q: I’m sure you weren’t thinking this at the time, but do you ever look back now and think Hepatitis C may have been one of the best things to ever happen to you — in the sense that you cleaned up your act?

A: I was talking to someone just the other day about that and I was telling them that very thing. I said, without that I don’t know if I would’ve done as much as I’ve done since then — post-C. I’ve been more active. I’ve been clearer. I’ve been more focused. I think I made the best album of my life.

Q: How do you rationalize that? I mean, the irony is pretty crazy when you think about it.

A: Well, the Tibetans have a way of looking at it and some Buddhists believe that everyone should have a near-death experience — to find the true value of life and the relationship of life and death. Death is just part of life. Because of that, I have a lot less fear of those kinds of things than I used to. So it’s easier for me to write things like my last album and not have a sense of attachment to it.

Q: Do you think if you’d made all these connections you’ve recently made, like with Jon Landau, earlier in your career, do you think you would you have seized the moment?

A: I think the timing was right as it happened. I think that if it happened years ago, I don’t know that I was ready for it. Something happened after Hep C that really got me more in shape as a musician, as a friend, as a person for all of this stuff that came later.

The only drawback is sometimes when I get tired, I wish I was younger. I don’t wanna look younger or be younger. Sometimes I just wish I had more energy, just a little more juice to give.

Q: You toured a hell of a lot over the last three or four decades. What’s it like on tour these days?

A: It’s a lot quieter. It’s a lot lonelier. Most of the band still likes to go to the bar afterwards and have a drink — like we all used to do. Because I don’t drink, they don’t really drink that much around me. I’m just not part of the party anymore in that respect.

Q: But you’re obviously OK with that?

A: I’m fine with it. I did enough partying for a lot of people, for one lifetime.

Q: If you go all the way back to what you picked up from your dad — your dad was a prizefighter at one point, right?

A: He was.

Q: You must have some great genes because you’ve seen people die off around you over the years.

A: Yeah, many, many. Especially if you look at the punk rock scene in San Francisco, many of the people I started out with are gone. A lot of them. It seems like a large percentage. Over the last year or so, I’ve lost a lot of friends.

Q: Do you attribute your endurance to good genes? Luck?

A: I think definitely genetically I have my father’s chi or whatever. My friend, he’s Irish, we always used to say we’re gonna have a boxing match. And he would say, ‘Well I’d have to kill you because Mexican boxers never give up.’ And it’s true. I’ve always had that from my father — you keep working and working and working. You never really expect anything from it. You just do it because you love it and you do it the best you can.

Q: I saw you guys at the New Orleans Jazz Fest two years ago. You went on really early in the day and totally blew out that stage.

A: That was a good show. I think we were the first ones on that day.

Q: That’s funny you remember that show so well.

A: Oh yeah, well it was the beginning of things. The reason we got that show was because of Landau. It was really the first time, after playing music for 30-something years, that I’d really had a taste of that kind of thing. Then we got the Dave Matthews tour and we got the Conan O’Brien show.

Q: At that show did you step out from behind the guitar and sing with just the mike?

A: That was one of the first times I’d done that.

Q: What’s that like? Empowering? Scary?

A: At first it was scary and now I really enjoy it. I keep trying to talk the band into letting me not play guitar and finding another guitar player so I can just sing. But they like me playing guitar. But I really like just singing — it really is liberating.

Q: You get that Iggy Pop feeling?

A: You get that feeling like what Jagger must feel or any of those singers. But I don’t dance.

Q: So what do you do during the solos?

A: I usually go back and hang out with Hector by the drums.

Q: Last thing — I assume you’re playing “Castanets” once again?

A: Oh yeah, we’re playing that. We’ll do that when we see you at the Mystic Theatre.

By John Beck – pressdemocrat.com Petaluma, CA

http://www.pressdemocrat.com/article/20090710/ENTERTAINMENT/907099937