Issue #30: VINCENT NEIL EMERSON

On honky-tonk roots, making a country(ish) record in L.A., and (of course) the magic of 'Reservation Dogs'

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The first time I saw Vincent Neil Emerson was in the town where he started growing his career as an artist: Fort Worth, with all its cowboy (and wanna-be cowboy)-filled bars and according healthy appetite for meaty country music — preferably grown in rich red dirt, the musical bridge between Oklahoma and Texas. He’s long-since outgrown that scene, but his new album The Golden Crystal Kingdom (out this Friday, November 10) still bears its traces, with its rock DNA and unabashed affection for Emerson’s home state.

The release, as his previous albums have, incorporates nods to his Choctaw-Apache roots — among them, his own raucous composition “Little Wolf’s Invincible Yellow Medicine Paint” and a cover of Buffy Sainte-Marie’s “Co’dine.” Emerson’s music has appeared on Reservation Dogs (notably, in the series finale) — a pitch-perfect fit given not only Emerson’s Indigenous heritage but the series’ Oklahoma setting, a half day’s drive from Emerson’s old East Texas stomping grounds. Country music is part of the series’ intensely specific DNA; a scene devoted to Pat Green’s “Wave On Wave” (a hit that was even bigger locally than nationally — you still hear it at Rangers games) was almost eerily on point to my Fort Worth native husband. Emerson’s contributions feel so organic to the series’ setting, a testament to their timelessness and groundedness.

In our live Zoom conversation with a few lucky DRTI paying subscribers, we talked about the FX show, as well as about Emerson’s roots and upcoming album. Read on for selections from that chat, and make sure to check out Emerson’s new album on Friday!

***Paying subscribers can listen to the entire conversation in podcast form here!***

Not to make you go over very well-trodden territory, but how did you first get into music?

I always liked music a whole lot, but I never really thought that I could actually play it or write songs until I was about 18 or 19. I got a guitar and I started learning how to play, and I just loved songs so much. I got into songwriter music like Townes Van Zandt, Blaze Foley, John Prine, Guy Clark, Steve Earle, Rodney Crowell — all these people. The craft of songwriting felt like something that was feasible and attainable for me, because it's not, like, a glitzy glamorous thing. There's no production. These are guys that are probably sitting around in a coffee shop somewhere, or at least that's the way I pictured it at first. I was like, I could probably do that. Like, I could write a song and go play it somewhere in front of somebody. So that's what really got me into it; then, I found this community of songwriters and musicians — I found my friends.

Around how old were you when the light bulb came on as far as those classic Texas singer-songwriter guys?

It slowly turned on for me, I guess. I just slowly figured it out. One day, I just looked at my record collection — I was like, maybe 21 — and that was all the stuff that I was into. Like, man — this is special, special stuff. I try not to worry too much about like, trying to out-write somebody, because the best has already come and gone, you know? It's a relief. 

There's a movie called Leaves Of Grass, with Edward Norton. In one scene, his character plays "Rex's Blues" (by Townes Van Zandt) on guitar. I was like, "Man, this song is great" — and it's not like Edward Norton is the best singer in the world. But I waited for the credits, and I looked up who had written it. I found this classic video of Townes playing "Waitin' Around To Die," and I was just completely floored. Oddly enough, the county that I was born and partly raised in is Van Zandt county, and it's named after Townes' family.

When I heard "25 and Wastin' Time" on Reservation Dogs, it felt so perfect in that moment of that show. It was really astonishing how timeless it sounded — totally something these characters would be listening to. What was the process like of your music getting on the show?

Sterlin, one of the creators of the show, I guess he has been a fan for a while of my stuff, and I know he's a big fan of whatever we are — the new country people that are on the outskirts of society and popular culture. The first song they included was my version of Leon Russell's "Manhattan Island Serenade" — they just hit me up and were like, "Hey man, we want to use this song in our show." I was like, "Hell yeah, of course." 

Have you watched the whole thing?

Oh yeah. The last episode got me into feels.

I was curious to hear your thoughts on it as somebody with Indigenous heritage who grew up not super far from where it's set. How did you feel watching that portrayed? Did any part of it ring true to your own experience? 

I didn't grow up on the rez — I grew up in pretty much the middle of nowhere, we really didn't have much. I could relate to the characters in a lot of ways. It just reminded me of growing up running around with my cousins — we were a bunch of mixed Indian kids running around East Texas and trying to navigate that world, the white community. Texas is very big and so's Oklahoma. But those are our neighbors, you know? The landscape looked really familiar — it kind of freaked me out a couple of times. Like, that looks like my hometown.

But what really rang true for me and hit close to home was that the whole show kicks off with a suicide. I lost my father to suicide when I was nine. So, just like the loss, the trauma — I felt that, they're very real feelings. 

It is a light-hearted show too, though. There's really funny moments. The entire series reminds me of a John Prine song: It's got all the parts that make you want to cry, and it's got all the parts that make you want to laugh, and everything in between. I think it's one of the best shows that's ever been on TV.

Your new album, The Golden Crystal Kingdom, was produced by Shooter Jennings. How did you get to know him? What made him the right fit for the project?

I think we played a couple of the same festivals, and I was introduced to him by a couple of mutual friends. He was always real nice to me, and then he came up to me one time at Hinterland Festival in Iowa and complimented the album that Rodney Crowell produced for me. Like here's this guy who's like, one of my heroes [saying this]! So we kind of hit it off right off the bat, just became instant buddies. I was kicking around the idea of making another record with my label La Honda Records, and we started talking about producers and like, I always wanted to make a record with Shooter and it so happened that he wanted to make a record with me, too. So it all worked out. The stars aligned, and the clouds parted.

And you recorded it in L.A., right? Kind of a different vibe than Nashville or Texas…

Yeah, it's a trip. I was listening to a lot of Tom Petty at the time to get the mood for L.A., you know — listening to Neil Young sing about Laurel Canyon and all that. I definitely watched Once Upon a Time in Hollywood a couple times. 

Are there any songs on the album that have worked particularly well live so far?

There's a song that I wrote called "Little Wolf's Invincible Yellow Medicine Paint." It was the first single and Shooter told me, "Man, that's gonna be your closer for like, every show for the rest of your career now." But he turned out to be right — since I started playing it live, we've closed every single show with it. That one just lifts the crowd up and lifts me up.

I know you've talked about the differences between your first record and your second record, with the first one being more influenced by classic honky-tonk storytelling, and then the second one having a little bit more autobiographical, introspective, reflective energy. I was curious where you feel you are now in your songwriting journey — if you've left those things in the past or if you're still drawing on them.

The first record was honky tonk, the second record was folk — at least that's what I've called it. And this one is more influenced by rock and roll or like folk rock, I guess. Guys like Neil Young and Stephen Stills, they figured out they could play folk songs on electric guitars. But there's still some heavy hints and strong elements of country music on this record; there's a song called "On the Banks of the Old Guadalupe" — it's in the vein of folk, but it's still a country song. "I'll Meet You in Montana," that's another one. So there's still elements of that. Moving forward, I want to try so many different things. But I think there's always going to be that base layer of country music for me, and that encapsulates folk music and bluegrass and all that stuff. It's always gonna be there.

What does it mean to you to write songs that reflect your Indigenous heritage? This is obvious, but I'd love to hear you talk about why it's an important part of your work.

It all comes down to Indigenous visibility. I'm trying to shine a spotlight on the history of my tribe, the history of where my family comes from. There's not a lot of Indigenous people in country music, and I'm considered part of the country music scene now, I guess. We need more Native singer-songwriters out there. I love my grandmother so much, and I just want her to know that I'm out here spreading her family history around. Maybe that's a clumsy way of putting it. But all I know is it feels good to have an Indigenous community that supports me — through music, I found that for sure.

You've found other Native artists that you feel like you're in conversation with or in solidarity with?

There's a guy named William Prince from Canada, he's fantastic. I'm meeting people every other day, it seems like. I just met a guy named Blaine Bailey out of Oklahoma. I played a show with him the other night, and we're actually getting him to open up our show down at Antone's in Austin. I meet a lot of people now and it's cool. I didn't know there were that many Indigenous storytellers and songwriters out there. Where I grew up, there weren't a whole lot of Indian people around. There wasn't a big community. We would go back home to our ancestral lands where they hold the pow wows, my grandmother's hometown, and that felt good, but I didn't really grow up around that. As an adult now I'm getting to connect with people like Sterlin Harjo (Reservation Dogs), who's doing really great things for Indigenous people and indigenous visibility.