How Grace Potter Salvaged a Shelved Album With T Bone Burnett

In 2008, Grace Potter was 25 years old and a rising rock 'n' roll star.

By then, she and her band the Nocturnals had released two albums, appeared on programs like The Tonight Show With Jay Leno and Good Morning America, plus opened for Gov't Mule, the Dave Matthews Band and the Black Crowes.

It was then that Potter stepped into the studio to make what was slated to be a solo album with producer T Bone Burnett — who had recently produced Robert Plant and Alison Krauss' Grammy-winning Raising Sand – Jim Keltner on drums, Dennis Crouch on bass, Marc Ribot on guitar and Keefus Ciancia on keyboards.

The resulting album, Medicine, spoke to Potter's talent as a singer, songwriter and studio presence, drawing as much from her rock 'n' roll influences as soul, R&B and other genres.

Back then, Potter's label decided against releasing the album. They felt it strayed too far from the vision that was Grace Potter the rock star. Potter took the news in stride, found new ways to use the songs from Medicine with the Nocturnals so they didn't fully languish on the shelf and moved forward.

Now, nearly 20 years later, the original Medicine will arrive on May 30 via Hollywood Records. UCR recently caught up with Potter to talk about what it means to finally release the album as it was intended and the confidence her producer T Bone Burnett helped provide. 

Congratulations on Medicine finally coming out. It must feel really great after all these years.
Oh my God, it's so weird. Because I'm used to having, like, this emotional turmoil. Every record is, like, this big awakening, and all this inspiration goes into it, and then I care so much about it, and I'm really sort of, like, precious, and I don't have to do that this time. It's been really just fun to explore it. I mean, there's definitely been some introspection, but not this really scary, like, "Oh my God, I wonder what the world's gonna think." I already know what they think of the songs, most of the songs are already out there. So it's been kind of an effortless process, because I'm coming from a place of wisdom and reflection, as opposed to: "I hope the world likes me!"

It's cool that even though this isn't a "new" album, you're not treating it like an archival release or something. 
No, and I think it's because, for me, there's also the narrative that goes along with it. The "Why?" I mean, there's a wonderful question of "Why now?" And there's also the question of, "Why didn't it happen then? What happened here?" So there's a little like, kind of true crime intrigue thing going on, and it's good for me to go back to it all. I've had so many conversations with people, former bandmates, former team people that were working with me at the time, and then going back to Hollywood Records, where basically the staff is the same as they were when this all went down, and everybody has their memory of it. And it's incredible how different everybody's memory is of it. It was interesting for me to be able to look back at it and really hear what they thought happened, knowing how I felt at the time. Because everybody obviously had the best intentions, and just wanted to make sure that my career was blasting off at full force, but you know, the woulda, coulda, shoulda of it all, and just wondering, like, what would have happened if this record had come out then? You know, it's a curiosity.

You could have felt really discouraged at the time that your plan was being changed by other people, but it sounds like you pretty much took the news in stride.
I felt fiercely loyal to my band, honestly. I think there was a lot of, like, trying to figure out what was going wrong with my band, because at the time, I had actually tried to splinter off from the band, and this was going to be a solo record back in 2008. So, it didn't go well [Laughs], me trying to emancipate myself. And there were tumultuous things going on internally with the band, and this sort of: "Is this a democracy?"

We has just watched that Eagles documentary where I think it's Don Henley, who just says, like, "Bands can't be a democracy at all. It just doesn't work." And I remember realizing that that wasn't just true, but that also I was writing all the songs, you know, and that giving away so much of my creative impulse, and – I never got the feeling that anybody was riding on my coattails or anything like that at the time, I was more just like "You guys all get to go do solo records. Why don't I? I'm not a meal ticket." And it was the first time I was really feeling that side of it and realizing that I don't think they thought I was a meal ticket, but they also didn't like the idea of me going off and doing my own thing, because they knew that inevitably, I would end up going the way of Janis Joplin and Gwen Stefani and so many other artists who peel away from this really galvanized collective.

And I think my image of myself as a 25, 26-year-old person, I think that fierce loyalty was something that felt like it was something to be proud of, but internally, it didn't feel good. It felt gross. It was genuine. It was definitely real for me. But I think there were pieces of me and parts of like...needing to validate people, sort of co-dependent stuff going on there.

That reminds me of a lot of what Mike Campbell of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers recently wrote in his memoir. He wrote about this dynamic of having a leader versus band loyalty and the gray area in between.
Yeah, because it's a double standard. And when you're the leader, you want everyone involved, and then suddenly you want to shut away and come up with the next idea. And then you want everyone involved, and they have to be totally game in. It's difficult for everybody. It's difficult from every angle, for people to navigate the world of a democracy when really, ultimately — you know, and we know Tom Petty was [a leader] — but also I basically modeled my whole career, including the syllabic pronunciation of "and the Nocturnals," "and the Heartbreakers," like it's vividly illustrated in my career and in my songwriting. But he and I are different in that he knew where that boundary was, and I think that there was a lot more of a clear line there. I'm much more wavy gravy about things, and I was just so into like, the joy of it, of being together.

Listen to 'Oasis' From 'Medicine'

Tell me a little about working with T Bone Burnett in the studio. What was that process like?
I think there was this looking for an undeniable collaborator. And T Bone is literally the definition of that. We talked about Daniel Lanois and Rick Rubin. I was really poised for any collaboration I wanted at that time in the industry. They were pouring a huge amount of money into my ascent, and part of that meant meeting with lots of different people, and what I was really looking for was the opportunity to break free of the handlers a little bit and just get into the studio and get really creative and find my voice away from the kid gloves. And when you pair up with a producer like T Bone, you absolutely can't have a bunch of random A&R people sitting in there making espresso and and throwing in, like, "What about more tambourine?" That doesn't play, it just doesn't play. And I was really ready for that. I was ecstatic for the chance to have this undeniable team. Like, here we go. The gusts of wind have turned into a gale storm, and we are going out to sea together, and we don't need any life boats to come along with us. We're just going to do this. That's what I was looking for and that's certainly what I found in T Bone.

Can we also talk about Jim Keltner? Talk about a legend of a session drummer.
Jim is the grout between the tile in like, the most beautifully decorated Moroccan bathroom you've ever been in. ... He really does take so much care — what I mean by take care is like, TCB, like, it's done. It's done. The idea is there. And whether he wanders in with that done in his head, or just sits down and it happens and just comes out of him, I'm not clear, because he doesn't explain his thinking. He just does. He just exists. ...

He's holding it together like scaffolding and creating this very sacred space so quickly, very little thought going into — I would watch him kind of maybe just practice or figure out whether he was going to use brushes or sticks. He also had this really awesome thing he called the percussion tree next to him, where one of his feet, which would have been used for a kick drum or hi-hat, was also running this tree. ... He had this unbelievable, like, cuckoo clock of shit over in the corner, and he could just, like, run his stick up and down it, and suddenly there's noises coming out of it that you would never expect. I still don't understand how he was playing fucking castanets, you know, and like, also the kick and snare and toms and symbols.

When you look back at that period of your life and career now, after several more years of success, is there any advice you'd offer 25-year-old Grace?
I would have grabbed my 25-year-old self by the shoulders and looked her dead in the eye and said: If you don't advocate for yourself — you don't owe anybody anything, but you will owe yourself later if you don't advocate for yourself, because everybody else here — you aren't lucky to be in their presence, and they aren't lucky to be in your presence. This is what is happening, and you should enjoy it. And if you're not proud of it at the end of the day, don't put it out. But if you are very clearly and devotedly excited and certain that this is where you as an artist want to go, not what your career arc and what your brand is sort of building to — which is really, I think, what ultimately, logistically was needing to happen based on the investments that people had made in me, time and lots and lots of money from the record company — there was a devotion to others that I had at that point that made it feel impossible. Like I absolutely did not have a choice. And so I think I would grab myself by the shoulders and just say, "You don't owe anybody here anything."

Listen to 'Losing You' From 'Medicine'