All Asia Bar, January 2007
We're standing in the darkness of an open lot next to the All Asia Cafe, where we've each just played a set. Some sort of AIDS benefit is setting up, selling penis-shaped cookies for 50 cents each, and although to the outsider observer it would look like some sort of yuppie drug deal is underway, I'm really interviewing Xander Singh. He is very concerned that his “hair should look good for the readers”.
The sweet-singing troubadour, who makes women old and young weak at the knees, has had a busy year. I recall my band's first few shows at the Acton Jazz Cafe, a strange mecca for creativity nestled in the obscurity of the middle of nowhere. There I saw Xander in all of his glory, shy and flirtatious, the kid you always wished you could be, the cute-as-a-button fellow strumming his guitar, crooning out songs about Big Love. Since then, he was invited to LA by Marc Desisto, who helped put together U2's "Rattle and Hum" as well as albums by Warren Zevon, Patti Smith and Blondie. The sessions didn't go well, so Xander bummed around with “[his] lady friend....who isn't [his] lady friend anymore, but maybe someday will be again". He then moved to New York, where he was kicked out of his dorm, and then to Nashville, where, with Matt Wilcox, he made The Ice Cream Parlor, an album of bittersweet pop tunes and portraits of a bruised hipster with a pure heart and black lungs out on the mean streets. Following a tumor scare and a period of recuperation in Seattle, he moved into an apartment on Newbury Street, the beginning of his journey. "### Newbury Street Apt. ##, readers, drop by anytime", he said (Editor's Note: I'm going to step in and protect Xander from obsessed stalker-freaks. If you want to visit Xander, email him for directions.)
Xander has that sort of likeability and heart-squeezing candor always sought and rarely reached in the world of Howie Day followers. The first show I ever saw him play, he did a spot-on and hilarious cover of James Blunt's "Beautiful", which he said he added to his repertoire based on a 'lifelong love of live comedy'. He oozes charm as he sings "…and she could see from my face that I was FUCKING HIGH", thus lending dignity to all of ad-libs we've all drunkenly hollered over that god-awful tune. "One of my biggest passions in life is disliking James Blunt", Xander says with a big grin. So who are his influences? "My friends are my biggest musical influence", he says, "and I'm big into electronic music right now, particularly Sigor Ros". In his newer works, including the brief set he played at All Asia on Saturday the 9th (cut short by technical difficulty) he is trying to meld the new-romanticism of the sensitive songsmith with the electronic surrealism of his heroes, and he's doing a good job of it.
There is something about him, a spiritual link to Chris Carrabba and his ilk, that drips of sentimentality and sweetness and demands the listeners adoration, whether he wants to hand it over or not. What in the hands of a lesser artist could easily be tossed into the pile of pussy rock in the corner of the room emerges pure and biting, with the kind of effortless abandon of deep Ryan Adams album cuts. But then again, maybe that’s because he's been fighting an uphill battle his whole life.
"I was nine...I was deep into musical theater...I played all the lead roles, Oliver, Pinocchio, Velveteen Rabbit...and I was auditioning for the show "Zoom", the PBS morning show...and I needed a talent. At that point in my life, I was really good at building things with Legos and watching TV...I was a master at Duck-Hunt....so I said ‘Mom, I need to get a guitar’...so I went in and did a great audition, sang my little heart out, and they called me back six times...they loved it...but Pablo was coming back on and they told me the reason I didn't get the gig was because he was already the 'ethnic looking one'...but I kept up with guitar and I'm here now and that’s all that matters." A siren rings out - I think to myself, “Yes sir, you are here”. But he could be anywhere in the world and be comfortable, because his voice is at once both angelic and rustic, naive and weary. Xander has that rare quality of being a man who seems to have seen much but continues to smile through his cigarette smoke, with enthusiasm for his craft and his audience coming out of his every pour. His is a striking brand of folk-pop pillow-talk.
"In the beginning I wrote a lot of songs about love. But now, I write about the places I've been, the experiences I've had.” The song ‘Walkabout’ is about “…sleeping on the streets of New York and getting arrested and taken to Harlem one night”, but on the most shallow level, it's a key piece of post-prom prettiness a group of friends in a car or on a rooftop would sing with a bottle of red wine in hand.
