When Caitlin Cary released her first EP, Waltzie, in 2000 and her full-length solo debut, While You Weren't Looking two years later, you couldn't help but wonder if these was just a couple more free drinks from the open bar that was her former band, Whiskeytown. Decent and likeable they were, but not quite essential listening. But, you figured, for all the crap she went through being Ryan Adams' den mother for so long, it was fair to help Cary finish off the keg for old time's sake, right?

It's a wholly different story with the new I'm Staying Out. This time out, the Raleigh, North Carolina resident and former budding fiction writer has easily surpassed her previous work with a fully realized mix of literate and emotional soul, twang, and guitar pop. Reunited with producer Chris Stamey and featuring the able backing of her touring band, I'm Staying Out captures an artist finding her comfort level and arriving as an artistic voice of note.

The strength of I'm Staying Out also helps to diminish the need for the previous, necessary qualifier: "Oh, she's from Whiskeytown, Ryan Adams' former band." At this point, it hardly matters. Whiskeywho? MoMZine editor Neal Weiss captures the metamorphosis.

MoMZine: What's different about I'm Staying Out compared to While You Weren't Looking?

CARY: With the first record, to do a solo record, at least for me, was much more of an investment emotionally and in every way than I had expected. I thought I was gonna lay down some songs, you know what I'm saying? It took me completely by surprise how much it involved and cost emotionally. So, knowing that going in this time, knowing more about what I was getting into, made it a lot easier. This was not a tear-your-hair-out kind of record, it was comfortable and relatively quick, at least in my small experience. And I think it's just sort of a braver record because of all that. I won't claim I knew what I was doing but at least I knew a little bit more about what I was in for.

MoMZine: You mentioned it being "comfortable." I'm Staying Out exudes that and a greater sense of confidence. Is that something you recognize?

CARY: It's really hard for me to speak in self-aggrandizing terms but I do feel really proud of it. And before that I felt really scared to death. I couldn't believe they wanted another record that fast, you know, "Good job, let's do it again." That sort of threw me for a little bit of a loop. I don't know what I expected to happen but it wasn't [to] run back in and make another record six months after the first one was released. But I did find, sort of like in my student days, having a deadline really helps me. I was able to kinda pull it out of my ass.

MoMZine: Do you feel like you rose to a higher level?

CARY: Well that's my hope, of course. I think it is more ambitious, especially just musically. I don't know that if it's that different lyrically from the last record although I think that maybe there is some growth in that area too. It's just a lot of miles on the road, a lot of shows under my belt, I think I'm a more confident singer, I think that my ideas of how to make songs work are more clarified. In other words, I'm becoming more of what I was supposed to have already been. If you make a record you're supposed to know what the hell you're doing, but obviously that doesn't always happen.

MoMZine: Anything in particular going into it that you were trying to achieve?

CARY: I knew that I did want to evolve from the first record and kind of take it out of the bedroom, so to speak, if that makes any sense, and capture the energy that I had been feeling with the band that I was playing with [on the road]. Not to dis Whiskeytown, but it's the first time I've ever played with real musicians in the sense that they're so responsive to me and my moods and the night and they listen and they don't overplay and they have great ideas and aren't afraid to branch out. I was real excited to get that on the record and I think we achieved that. A couple people who are good friends said, "Yeah, this sounds like a band record. It sounds like you meant to do that."

MoMZine: What's your role in the studio like? Do you yield to Chris or do you call the shots?

CARY: It really depends on the song. I am always happy to sort of defer to Chris especially when it comes to things like arrangement. He has radically restructured songs that I've written and I get pissed as hell and I'm like, "You're crazy, this is good." I'm one of those people who has a big enough ego to like what I do when I do it. But from experience I know that he's almost always right. Sometimes I'll argue until I get my way but more often I'll go back and reconsider what he's suggested and come out on the other side thinking that he was absolutely right. I don't like to be authoritative in the studio. I think really the singer is mainly a cheerleader in the studio. Sometimes I have really concrete ideas about what I want it to sound like and I will run around and say, "Play the drums more like this," or "Can you try this other chord?" But not so much. Mainly I just try to be inspirational. And I'm so blessed to have had this band that's good enough to do that. I noticed this on the road, if I'm in a shitty mood and I sing the song angry, God, they sound angry, you know? The band is right there. I can't say how exciting it is. It's really fun to have people that are that sensitive.

MoMZine: Would you consider this album to be more rock?

CARY: I think so. It's always a challenge for me. It's not because I don't love rock 'n' roll, because I do, I find that it can be really sort of counter-intuitive for me to rock because I tend to write these really serious songs and I don't want to be one of those shoe-gazing or self-indulgent, morose people. I like happy music and I like rock 'n' roll but "You Don't Have To Hide" was a tough one for me because I was thinking, "God, this is kind of a serious song. Does this music go with this sentiment?" And we worked on that one really hard to make sure that the overtones of the song [were clear]. Even though it has this bouncy rhythm, we added strings and some lush sounds to make sure that you could get that it actually was about something. It wasn't "I love you, baby." And "Cello Girl," that was the song, and this always happens -- "Shallow Heart" on the last record was the same way -- it was the last thing I wrote and when I played through it I was like, "Well, this is kinda cute, silly, it'll be the throwaway song on the record." Of course it's everyone's favorite and it's starting to be my favorite too. I think it works better than I had thought it was going to. But I know that when I wrote it, when I had that idea in my journal I was like, "This can't even be a song, there's no way in hell." But that's always the way. The one you believe in the least is the one that everyone else loves.

MoMZine: You abandoned a masters' program in fiction writing to originally join Whiskeytown. Does songwriting do the same thing for you as fiction writing does?

CARY: I do get the chance to explore characters and ideas, but I think songwriting is so different from fiction writing that it's almost not even related. When you're writing words on a page, if they're not going right you just change them and get to what you meant to say. Whereas, I think at some point in a song, the song wins out. The form dictates where the words are gonna go and it's a matter of how much you want to wrestle with that or give over to the power of the music and just let it do what it wants to do. The other thing about songwriting is that you get to communicate immediately. I co-write almost every song because I suck so bad on guitar that if I tried to write my songs on guitar they would all suck, so I take them to someone else who can play guitar. So, almost immediately someone else gets their fingers in the soup and I love that. Music, there's something about it that seems social and communal and immediate and it's sort of more along the lines of what I feel like I'm good at.

Maybe when I'm older I will become a fiction writer. I was only a moderately decent and not at all successful one. I had the dubious distinction of being the best creative writer in my small college, which gave me all sorts of delusions of grandeur. Then you start collecting rejection letters. It's amazing to me how fucking good you have to be, it's sorta like being a violinist, you know? You really have to be really fucking good in order to be a violinist, and to be a fiction writer, those people don't suck that get books made. Or not very many of them do, anyway.

MoMZine: When did you decide: "I am a songwriter, I used to be a fiction writer"?

CARY: I can pinpoint a couple things. One: when I got too tired to try to get my ideas made into songs in Whiskeytown and just decided that I was gonna be more of Ryan's co-writer and editor and side-guy because, frankly, getting my one song done was such a pain in the ass and Ryan would oftentimes not play it right [laughs]. So, at that point [on the road, circa Stranger's Almanac], I started to write and sort of horde my songs and think about someday doing my own thing.

And then, one of the very last things that Whiskeytown did was play Sessions At West 54th with Gillian Welch, Sheryl Crow, Emmylou Harris, and Victoria Williams. I just sorta had this epiphany that, "OK, it's time to join these women if I can." And that when I made the move. I got home from that trip, called Chris and said, "I've got some songs, I want to make a record."

MoMZine: Where does the soul-pop influence come from?

CARY: That comes from me listening to a lot of Etta James and also to Dusty Springfield, [and] Ray Charles. I think the very worst thing in the world is bad, white R&B. So, I hope to God that's not what I have done. But I think Dusty Springfield is a great example of someone who just pulled it off [while] being honest and beautiful.

MoMZine: Your violin playing was integral to Whiskeytown but that seems to be less the case here. Where does it fit in nowadays?

CARY: I feel as though the violin is so close to the voice that I tend to not want to overuse it. It's almost just like me singing more. I do love my instrument but I do think that violin can easily be overused, sorta like pedal steel, it's such a distinctive sound and it has all these things that are associated with it. I also don't play and sing at the same time. I've seen it done but it's damn hard. I think Alison Krauss can do it, I'm not sure. So, I tend to just take a solo and not put a whole lot of violin where there's no way I'll be able to do that live. Also, I've never thought of myself as a virtuoso player and I don't really want to be. I use the violin sort of intentionally as what it is to me, which is a simple melody maker, sort of like another singer.

MoMZine: That begs the question about the curious line in "Cello Girl" about the "squeaky violin and I can't really play." Is that a personal reference?

CARY: I'm talking about myself there, for sure. I quit violin at 16 because there comes a point in every violinist's development where there are three options: you quit, you stay at the level you're at, or your start practicing six hours a day and become a violinist. And I knew that I didn't want to do that. I did not have the passion for the instrument that would drive me to turn my life over to it. And so, when I picked it back up again I was very adamant that what I wanted to do was play with other people and be able to play fiddle tunes and have fun with the instrument. Then when I started using it in a rock band I was adamant that I should not overplay it. I hate too much violin in pop music. So I am not a virtuoso nor do I wish to be. It's an instrument that is so difficult to play that, if you want to be that person you really have to be the person that practices six hours a day and I knew that was not me. I have other interests musically besides being the chops guy.

MoMZine: Speaking of chops, you're also credited with playing "fuzz guitar" on one song.

CARY: Oh yeah, that involved picking up the electric guitar and standing really close to the amp and playing a couple notes.

MoMZine: Did that make you feel like a chops guy?

CARY: Oh absolutely. I'm a bad ass.

MoMZine: How important are the old days to your current days? What did you learn from Whiskeytown that you carry with you as a solo artist?

CARY: The honest answer is: everything. That was my first "real" endeavor as a musician and it was certainly my formative time. I learned a lot about writing from writing with Ryan and an honesty ethic about what kind of songs I wanted to do and I also learned a lot about how I didn't want to behave [laughs]. And certainly, a whole lot about the music business in general. I'm really thankful that I had that learning opportunity before I embarked on a [solo] career. Also, now, it's precisely not starting out from scratch with no connections. I'm in a really lucky place.

MoMZine: Is it baggage that every person who talks to you will likely ask you something about Whiskeytown?

CARY: I'm fine with that. I definitely feel as though Whiskeytown was an important and it's amazing to have been a part of it. I'll talk about it to the extent that I can remember it [laughs].

MoMZine: What did you learn from Ryan as someone who's the leader of a group? Or as a role model?

CARY: I may take the 5th on that one in order not to incriminate myself. But, certainly one thing I know, I do understand a little bit about how tough it was on him to be the frontman. I didn't understand it from my perspective then that it really can be really hard and a lot of responsibility and sometimes you're not up to the task or you don't feel like that guy and some days you gotta do it anyway and it's hard. I was maybe not always so sympathetic. I was usually the one who was, like, "Ryan, get your ass out of bed and do the frickin' interview. Don't be a baby." Now I think I would have a little more sympathy. But, to pass him a compliment, I think he is a great frontman and while I'm not conscious of it, I certainly must have learned some of his entertainment skills, both from being his foil on stage -- I was sort of the Costello to his Abbott -- and also just from watching him.

MoMZine: What do you think of his solo success?

CARY: Oh, I'm really proud of him. I think he's just where he should be. He's a born rock star. That's what he always wanted to be and it's the only thing he can be. Although I have heard rumors that he's quitting. Have you heard this? This is a very fractured rumor. I hope he's not quitting, that would be stupid.

MoMZine: When you hear about his antics, how do you react?

CARY: Well, I definitely sometimes think I should take a lesson from him and be more of a bad girl and keep the press as interested in me, but I don't think I'm capable of it [laughs]. And I'm sure that things, as they did in Whiskeytown, get blown out of proportion both by him and by the press, so I take everything with a big grain of salt. I get a chuckle out of thinking about the whole thing of the guy supposedly getting ejected from the Ryman for calling him Bryan Adams. That's funny. It tickles me. I can probably say I'm as interested as the next guy in hearing about his exploits.

MoMZine: He doesn't appear on I'm Staying Out. Was there a need to distance yourself?

CARY: I did make a conscious decision not to bring him in on this one. When I first began getting ready for the first record I thought I still needed him or had an interest in continuing our musical relationship. And now that doesn't seem to be that important. I still hold out that when we're 40 or 50 that we'll make a great country-duets record together but for now I feel like we're both doing our own things and both fulfilled by it.

MoMZine: Could Whiskeytown live to see another day?

CARY: I do feel sorry that we never got to play the songs from Pneumonia live. I think that would have been a really great challenge. I think we would have gone to another level if we were gonna honestly try to recreate that record live. We would have really had to do our homework and probably hire some ringer players. I wish we had gotten to do that.

I definitely have a fondness and it's fun to remember Whiskeytown. I guess there's no way I could know whether I would do it if they called for a reunion tour. But I don't see that happening any time soon. My big joke is, that when Ryan both piss away all out money the we make on our solo careers we'll have to do the pathetic 50-year-olds doing Whiskeytown.

- June 3, 2003