She's Not Gonna 'Fall For That': Suzanne Santo On The Arts Of Collaboration & Solo Work

Suzanne Santo has been a major presence via the Americana band Honeyhoney for a number of years, but more recently, she's also been stepping into the role of a singer/songwriter, having released her debut solo LP, Ruby Red, but she's also been particularly busy following a stint as a touring musician for Hozier. Santo recently released the new single, "Fall For That", featuring Gary Clark Jr., and Produced the song alongside John Spiker. In fact, the song was written in Ireland during a break in Hozier touring, and in the intervening year has only become more relevant in expressing a certain degree of "heat" in frustration, breaking free from societal constraints and a herd mentality, among other things. Aside from working on new music during quarantine, Santo did plenty of livestreaming early-on and continues to do Zoom sessions via her website. As if that's not enough to keep busy, she also runs a video podcast on Patreon for Honeyhoney with Ben Jaffe, but something tells me that won't be the end of the list of her accomplishments during these tumultuous times. Santo kindly spoke to Tower's PULSE! about many things, including experiences in the music industry, thoughts on what living the dream in music might mean, and the paths of collaboration and of solo work. Hannah Means-Shannon: Many artists seem to spend about ten years becoming established and more well known in music, and then when they hit that point, they start encountering ageism in the media. But you actually were on a different path, where you hit the media big at a fairly young age and rode that rollercoaster. Suzanne Santo: In terms of Honeyhoney, a band that I’m still proud to be a part of, we never “hit it”. I don’t mean that we never hit it in the sense that we never won a Grammy, I mean that we never hit it in a sustainable way where we could keep a roof over our heads. We did great work, and we will continue to do so, and I’m excited about what comes next. But in my mind, I have a couple versions of success. One is that, financially, I would have enough not to worry and to make ends meet. That’s success to me, in terms of music. The other thing is to be so successful that I don’t need social media anymore, and I can just turn that shit off! Because that life seems so peaceful to me. I often turn it off, though. When I need to post things, I do, but it’s tough. I’d love someone to do it for me. That would be a luxury. HMS: It’s the blessing and the curse of access. Fans now have access to musicians and vice versa, and you have the power to market yourself, but you can absolutely destroy your energy on it if you go all in constantly. SS: That’s perfectly said. I also have gratitude for it, and for e-mail, and ways of connecting that are just human to human. It’s kind of magical. But as you said, it’s a double-edged sword and it’s up to me to tend to that balance. But it can so easily turn dark. HMS: It’s the Wild West. There are no rules so you have to self-regulate. It’s even more of an issue right now because of how much we are relying on screens. SS: Totally. That’s why I think routines these days are so important. That’s why I started sleeping with my phone in my kitchen, so I don’t look at it when I wake up. I make my coffee, I feed my cats, I journal, and then I try to slowly integrate it into my day. That’s a routine. I struggle with insomnia sometimes and I’d be just scrolling and 45 minutes would go by. That’s insane! HMS: It’s like a time slip. I agree. Contrary to what we’re talking about, you went in pretty hard with online presence as soon as lockdown started. You did a lot of livestreams, but then you moved into more of a hangout format, I think. SS: I’ve done both. I got some backlash for some of this, but I wanted to open up my platform to conversation with a group of people, and there were a couple rules. For instance, if someone wanted to talk about difficult things, this was going to be a peaceful conversation. Occasionally, people could be aggressive, but once you got them one on one, they just wanted to be heard. I had a lot of interesting conversations around racism and politics. But it’s important to me, too, to still be entertaining, and play music, and be myself. I like to hang out. Something that I’ve been craving in this quarantine is podcasts, hearing people have conversations, which kind of fills this void of socializing. It gives me a sense of community, too. I did get burned out on the livestreams at first, because it seemed like this mad rush for people to reorganize their careers and do this. I just got exhausted, because I was also working on new music, and when you’re playing a livestream, you can’t really keep playing the same show. I learned a lot of new covers, but I want to come by that honestly. I don’t want to play a lot of livestreams just to make money or feel relevant, and I was starting to feel that way. But a couple of things I still do is have Zoom sessions through my website. Then you get to see people, and that’s a step up. HMS: It’s almost like the face-to-face aspect of playing a smaller venue. It sounds like that connection is important to you. How often were you performing live before lockdown? SS: All the time. There are all kinds of different shows, but the energy of the crowd is the main thing. Some crowds are better than others. Some crowds totally just suck! Then you get this experience of having a great time with your band. I’ve been fortunate, from a financial standpoint, to play some corporate gigs, but from a creative standpoint, they are the weirdest thing ever. The first episode of Silicon Valley sums it up, where Kid Rock is playing in somebody’s back yard, with only about 15 people, but with pyrotechnics and no vibe. It’s so funny. That’s kind of what a corporate gig feels like. They bring you out to play, and everyone’s just trying to network and not paying attention. But it’s really helpful to keeping me afloat, so no disrespect to the corporate world. But at those kinds of moments, you just have to rock out with your band or by yourself. The really special shows, though, are not to be taken for granted. HMS: You’ve had a lot of different experiences in bands, from being a frontperson, to being a support musician, to being a solo artist. What do those different experiences bring you? SS: They bring a lot. I’m proud to say that I’m able to table my ego. When I was younger and had insecurities, collaborations weren’t as easy. But I’ve had the ability to really just make music with people and open up. The more I’m able to access that, it feels like the more magic there is. Ben Jaffe, from Honeyhoney, and I started a podcast on Patreon, and it’s been really great to play together. We had stepped away from Honey, Honey for a couple of years. But I joined Hozier’s project as an apprentice, a worker. I wasn’t the boss. There’s a lot of humility in that, and I’m so grateful for that opportunity. I kicked up to a level of musicianship that I’ve always wanted because of that, and even now, I have to keep going. I learned what it was like to be a hired gun, and then came back to my own projects. Ben and I are better musicians than we were a couple years ago, and we’re accessing levels of musical communication that we’ve never had before. It’s so exciting. Going back to being the boss, I also have so much reverence for my band, and their comfort, and their happiness, because I got to be them for a while. If you can in life, put on other peoples’ shoes and get that experience. HMS: It reminds me a little bit of how people say that to be a good film director, you need to have had every job on set. SS: To me, being in a band is the best thing ever. You get to be in a club. I’m a lone wolf in many ways, so when I get to be with my tribe, it’s pretty cool. I’ve been around bands where that element isn’t there. The way I structure my business and my band, if we’re not having fun, something is wrong. Of course, you’re going to have hard days, but if it’s just a job, I need to make some changes. It affects everything. I feel grateful that I can continue to play the music that surprises me. HMS: Were there moments in your career where you haven’t been sure you could keep going in music? What kept you from giving up? I know you have several careers, really, so you easily could have pursued those, instead. SS: I don’t think I’m ever going to stop. I don’t think I have that capability. My family owns a restaurant in Cleveland, Ohio, and when I was younger, there was this part of my that said, “Oh, if this doesn’t work out, you can always go back to Cleveland and sell pizza.” Which is a great life. Most of my family is in the restaurant industry. We’re Italian. That was never my calling, though, and my parents have always been excited and supportive. Awhile back, my Dad got bought out by my uncle, and I remember thinking in the back of my mind, “Now there’s no going back. There’s no selling pizza for you!” I’m always going to find a way. I can’t not make music, that’s for damn sure. How I get to express that, whether I play in my living room, or at the corner bar, or in a stadium, is luck and the universe, which are the same thing, I guess. HMS: As for a lot of musicians I’ve spoken to, for you, music is not the same thing as the music industry, and music will go on regardless. SS: Oh, yes. The music industry is a feisty biotch. A lot of it I really rage against. To be honest, the good guys are few and far between. Something I’ve been reconciling with lately is the digital element and the streaming. I spend hours and hours and hours writing and recording, and I spend a lot of my own money making my songs. I’m a big advocate of trying to own your music if you can. With the streaming, if you own your copyright, the return on your songs is something like ten to one. Otherwise if I get a million streams of my song, I think that’s absolutely amazing, but it actually only amounts to a couple thousand dollars every few months. That’s not sustainable. If I can’t tour, that’s not going to pay my rent. I felt confused and sad about it, wondering how to get ahead. There are a couple of things that have been happening lately, which is really nice, is that people have been sending me money. I just wonder how I can incorporate the science into my career of how to make music and get back enough return. It’s nice to say that out loud and not feel ashamed. It’s been something to adjust to, especially now, not being able to tour. HMS: I’m totally with you on all of that. It’s a big challenge right now. There is the bigger certainty of making money selling physical media, but even with that swinging around, as we’re experiencing at Tower Records, it’s nothing like what it used to be. SS: We could take that across the board. I grew up going to Tower Records at the Strongsville Mall. We had to work at the restaurant, so as a kid I worked there a lot, and if we wanted things, we had to pay with our own money. I got the gratification of paying for the CDs that I wanted. These days, we want what we want for free. We want to just get it with the click of a button. It changes the integrity of art and of our person. I’m not cynical, but those feel like the good old days in a lot of ways. There was a mobster mentality in the music industry back then, so it had its shit too. But at the end of the day, the physical element of music is very valuable. HMS: It can be, and it can create fan communities. People can feel more connected. You can join a community that includes commerce, like on Bandcamp and Patreon. SS: The Patreon thing that Honey, Honey is doing is that way. We are also putting on a show, shooting it, and editing it. It’s a video podcast. We have two tiers right now, and with one you get to watch the show, but if you have the other tier, you get to download the songs. We’re spending about 15 hours, all in, on each podcast, with just the two of us, so it’s like we’re charging for a ticket for a show. I think it’s fair to have a return and we’re coming by it honestly. It’s fun for us. HMS: How did you discover what your sound would be for your solo work? You must be making some discoveries about that. SS: I am. I’ve been working with this Producer, John Spiker. He’s a brilliant multi-instrumentalist, and also plays bass, and Produces Tenacious D. He’s one of these people who facilitates a supportive space and he’s made me a better Producer. In terms of genre or flavor, every song tends to present itself differently. With “Fall For That”, it turned into a straight Rock song, which was interesting, since I actually wrote it in Ireland. I was on the Hozier tour, and I had gotten the surprise information that I had five days off. I was so excited to road trip out to the country, to Connemara. I rented a car and powered through and drove on the left side of the road. For one thing, it looks like another planet out there. It was honestly life-changing and I needed it so badly at the time. I got an Airbnb on a third-generation sheep far, and the address was latitude and longitude coordinates. I showed up at night, and it was a little scary. You can feel the magic of the countryside, and the whole fairy energy stuff. I was so excited to be alone and was on a beautiful lake. But anytime I picked up my cellphone, I would fall into temporary depression, like potholes. Why was I checking my phone instead of experiencing that place? The song started, literally, with the phrase “rage on the wind tonight”, about laying low, and then getting wrapped up in this collective anger. I wanted to unpack how damaging that is. I wrote this song last year, but it keeps changing shape now because of what’s happening. It feels so appropriate now and I’m really grateful for that. This area of our reality scares me. It makes me worry about all of us. It gets to a point where your thoughts aren’t your own because the way in which we are delivered information is not healthy, and a lot of time it’s not real. When I asked Gary to play it, it was one of the coolest things, because he’s someone I really look up to. I’ve known him for years. I sent him the demo and he got back, saying, “I don’t even need to listen to it! I’m in.” He came in and shredded on this thing. On that day, we only had a half an hour, so he did seven takes in a half an hour, and boom! That was it. I’ve talked to Gary a little bit about Black Lives Matter and the movements happening right now, and it feels like this song is taking on more than I anticipated. I’m really grateful for that. The fact that it’s just a straight Zeppelin Rock song with a lot of heat under it is something that, at first, I was really insecure about. I was worried, a year ago, that it was too angry. But it’s not! It’s right on the nose! HMS: It anticipated a lot. SS: I definitely have those elements where I make things and am nervous that it’s too much for people. But I think this one has got some legs and I’m excited to get it out there. I hope that it offers a source of comfort that makes all this a little bit easier.

She's Not Gonna 'Fall For That': Suzanne Santo On The Arts Of Collaboration & Solo Work

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