Photo courtesy The Tin Pan
Leo Kottke is sitting in a restaurant in his hometown of Minneapolis, trying to eat some seafood while having an online conversation with a reporter. "I'm typing on a phone with my thumbs, which is sort of like typing on a fish," he says.
The legendary folk musician has been called one of the greatest guitarists of the modern age; a blues master, a country picker, a jazz explorer and someone who can take the oddest cover (like the Byrds' "Eight Miles High" or Buck Owens' "Buckaroo") and make it his own. Kottke will bring his expansive repertoire — and trademark stage musings — to The Tin Pan on Sept. 28. Even after five decades of music making, the self-taught virtuoso says that he "can't let go" of the guitar. "It isn't love," he says. "It's more like possession."
Richmond Magazine: You've been at this for more than 50 years. Does it feel like 50 years?
Leo Kottke: It felt more like 50 years in the beginning. It's a shock when all this kicks in. The travel ... well, some people have real jobs. I can't complain. And I love the playing more than I ever have. It's a privilege.
RM: You are known for your lively stage banter. Has that changed in the current heated political environment?
Kottke: It changes every night. Every hour. I talk to the crowd until I know what to play next. It isn't banter or stories or jokes, it's what I have to do to follow the guitar. When I open my mouth I really don't care where I wind up, as long as it's a guitar. Also it's really rude NOT to talk to the crowd, so you could call it a courtesy.
RM: Is it true that you declined a spot on Bob Dylan’s legendary Rolling Thunder Revue tour in the 1970s?
Kottke: I think I did. His brother was managing Bob at the time, and the invitation came from him. It wasn't registered mail; we were sitting in an airport somewhere. I know Bob likes a pretty loose approach. I approve, but I was already booked.
RM: Does tendonitis still affect your playing, or have you worked out ways around it?
Kottke: I'm rid of it ... It took a while to shake, but it had a salutary effect on my playing. I had to relearn the right hand but learn it right. And it's much more fun to actually feel the strings rather than the picks that screwed me up in the first place. Ry Cooder called playing with picks “taking a bath with your clothes on.” I'm grateful to be rid of the damn things.
RM: You haven't released an album in more than 10 years. Any plans for a new release soon?
Kottke: [I'm] recording at least. Who knows where records go these days? I've got a lot of new stuff and some recording approaches that are working themselves out. Mike Gordon [of Phish] and I have some more ideas, for example. We'll be in a studio in August.
RM: Do you still make up your onstage set list on the spot? Isn't that terrifying?
Kottke: Naw, it's a pleasure. What's terrifying is someone alone on stage following some map. I don't need to see that, and I don't want to do it. The set list is always wrong, by the way. What you need next is usually something you played 10 minutes ago. Performance is following some curve that's in the air: You can't improve on the curve, but you can definitely screw it up with a set list.
RM: You toured recently with Virginia guitarist Keller Williams. He's got a different playing style; what was that experience like?
Kottke: Keller had a set list, but he'd ignore it half the time. When we played together we had to agree on that stuff a priori … I left Keller out in the breeze a couple times ... but he never hit me. A very tolerant guy. Keller goes right at it; I kind of ooze.
RM: What is the one key bit of advice you would offer to budding guitarists?
Kottke: If you're in it for the job, you'll be miserable. If you're in it for the twang, you'll be alright.
Leo Kottke appears at The Tin Pan on Sept. 28. $65-$70. 8 p.m. 8982 Quioccasin Road. tinpanrva.com
