Times Free Press entertainment reporter Casey Phillips chatted with Fred LeBlanc, lead singer/founder of New Orleans-based roots rockers Cowboy Mouth about 25 years of proving the recording industry wrong, why he’s – not really – like Don Draper and why it’s OK to be Mick Jagger.
Q: Cowboy Mouth just celebrated its 25th anniversary, right? What was that like for you? Was that a significant moment?
A: Yeah, you know, it’s our 25th year. It’s one of those things where people started telling us about it, and I was like, “Oh, yeah. Wow. Look at that. I’ll be damned.” [Laughs.] John, from the band, wants to celebrate it in a big way, but that’s not my style. I’m not one to sit there and pat myself on the back. I’m like, “Let’s just keep moving forward and kicking ass.”
Q: That surprises me. The energy you exude on stage makes it seem like you would be all about trumpeting and celebrating the band’s longevity.
A: I guess so. I guess that makes sense, to a certain extent, but at the same time, I’m not somebody, in general, who likes to sit there and look back, just because looking back kinda takes away from moving forward. But that’s just me. It’s not that I’m not proud of the band. I’m extremely proud of the band and everything we’ve accomplished. We’ve had some great players, and we’re extremely fortunate. It’s funny; all the labels that we were signed to are now out of business, and we’re still going strong. [Laughs.]
Q: That’s right. You guys have been basically independent since, what, the early 2000s?
A: Yeah, to a certain. It wasn’t a conscious decision, like, “Let’s be independent.” We’ve always focused on the live show, even in the ’90s, when the trend was to sell millions of copies of an album to promote one song.
I was always given the line by industry executives that, “We love your band. We think you’re great. We think you’re wonderful,” and I’m like, “That’s great. Why not promote us more?” And they responded with, “That lead singer/drummer thing? That’s never going to work.” It seems to work.
I’ve never depended on the industry. My focus has never been on record deals and things like that. It was always nice when they came along. If they gave you a boost, great; if they didn’t, great. For me, the focus has always been on the live show – that moment. That falls in line with my personal nature of “move forward, move forward, move forward.” It’s very Don Drape-esque, without the looks. [Laughs.]
Q: Walk me through the origins of Cowboy Mouth. How did this project get off the ground?
A: I played in a band called Dash Rip Rock in the late ’80s. It was this punk-billy band out of New Orleans. We were very fortunate; we had a lot of success. I knew John Thomas Griffith, the guy who plays guitar, because he was in a band called the Red Rockers. They had a very colorful history. They had some success, some videos on MTV back when that was a big deal. But that band had fallen by the wayside. He was playing side gigs around New Orleans.
I was trying to form a band for a long time because I had quit Dash because I’d been given a solo record deal with BMI. It kind of petered out, so I decided to form a touring band, because that’s what I knew what to do. I had been working with these musicians for a while, and it just wasn’t jiving at all. I had the idea to get John in.
He was handling the vegetables at the local Whole Foods Grocery, which was a very tiny grocery store at the time. He was the produce manager over there. I said, “Hey, John. You want to come over and play with us.” He said, “Sure,” so I gave him a cassette with some songs, and the band went from being really, really terrible to being really great within the space of about three seconds. Then, literally we just started touring and never really stopped.
It was one of those things where it just fed on itself, in a certain way. We toured the Southeast and the Northeast, what we called the “Austin to Boston” circuit, playing places like Rhythm & Brews in Chattanooga. It got to the point where we were getting wooed by major labels, but once again, because of the unusual nature of the band with having a drummer as a lead singer, these guys would all come out and have a great time, but they would pass on us.
We had this band who opened up for us a bunch in Louisiana and the Gulf Coast, and we opened up for them in South and North Carolina. We were friends. We hung out. We were just little bands. They were really good – we liked them anyway – and they had a good following in their hometown, and we had a strong following where we were.
Then, all the sudden, for about a year, they exploded and became the biggest band in the world called Hootie and The Blowfish. [Laughs.] I was like, “Wait, what? What? These guys?” [Laughs.] We loved them, but to us, we were just the bands around the corner from each other. Then, all the sudden they went from being your buddies in this bar band to this monolith that sold 15 million records overnight.
It was such a weird juxtaposition, but they handled it as well as anyone could. They were very generous to past out opportunities to all their friends. They actually took us on the road in ’94 or ’95. We went from playing Rhythm & Brews in Chattanooga and doing well, packing it out and having a great time, to playing the Greek Theatre in Hollywood or the Arena in Seattle. We were playing packed out shows to 10,000 or 15,000 people. That really helped us to get noticed.
All the labels during that time were signing anything Hootie-related, and we fell in that. We started to deal with MCA Records, which turned out to bite us in the ass, but we actually had a little bit of success. “Jenny Says” did well. “How Do You Tell Someone” did well.
What happened was, being on a major label and having a song on the radio gave us a lot of entry into those radio festival that were popular at the time. You’d have two major acts and then a bunch of mid-level acts, and they’d pack out an arena all day because they would charge like $5. You’d literally play in front of 20,000 people. It was like, “OK, this is good.” You wouldn’t get paid anything for it – it was a big scam – but it helped us.
We started off playing at 1:30. It was an all-day thing, and I was like, “If I’m going to play at 1:30 and do a 20-minute set, they’re going to remember me.” Being in a good live band and being a lunatic, I’d start riots. I’d climb across PA stacks or anything I could to get attention. If the show was on a Saturday, on Monday morning, they’d still be talking about our band. That’s how we started getting a name for ourselves beyond the “Austin to Boston” thing. Things took off from there.
We were able to have success in spite of our labels not knowing what to do with us and actively trying to keep us from having real success, which is a bizarre situation to be in. But I always looked at it like, “If I’m going to jump in the shark tank, I can’t boohoo about being bitten.” That’s the nature of the beast. When your competition goes from being the little club bands around the corner to Madonna, The Beatles and Miley Cyrus. It’s a different set of rules, and you have to play by them to do the best you can. We did fine, and it helped us to build a live following, which I knew would be the band’s strength and mainstay. It still is to this day.
In the 2000s, the label deal fell through, and we were tired of the label game. The politics were changing in terms of all rock being divided into hard pop and hard rock. There really was no middle ground for what we do because we’re too rock for country and too melodic for hard rock. We just kept doing our thing and building up our following. Some band members changed here and there, but the band has always been strong. Here we are 25 years later still kicking butt.
Q: Cowboy Mouth is notorious in live music circles for the energy of its live shows, and in particular, your charisma as a front man. Is Fred LeBlanc off stage the same as on-stage Fred or is there a degree of play-acting going on during shows?
A: It’s very easy. It’s totally natural. It’s not something I have to force. In fact, when I’m off the road, it’s something I have to tone down. I like people. I like people’s stories. I enjoy the way people work. I enjoy what makes people tick. Being interested in people, you want to encourage them to get the best out of them.
People always look at us and say, “The energy of this. You guys are crazy.” The reality of what we do is that we take our audience’s energy and just encourage them to find their own energy. My theory is that people don’t go to the Rolling Stones to see Mick Jagger perform. They go to the Rolling Stones hoping to be Mick Jagger. When you come to a Cowboy Mouth show, we just want people to know that it’s OK to be Mick Jagger. [Laughs.]
It’s all about getting the audience to find that part of themselves because so much of the world and life today is designed to keep people down, to make people feel like they’re “less than.” So much of media and culture or pop culture is designed, overtly or subtly, to make people feel so much less than what they’re capable of. When people come to a Cowboy Mouth show, I want them to have that same feeling, that same vibrancy, that I discovered listening to old rock’n’roll records as a child.
When I was younger, I thought, “OK, well, I’ve got no future. This sucks.” Just being a young, angry kid, I thought that life was pointless. It wasn’t until I understood that life was only going to be what I brought to the game that I realized that wasn’t true. I realized it would be foolish to look outside of myself or to someone else for happiness or fulfillment. I have to find those things for myself and bring them to my world and my existence.
That’s what listening to old rock’n’roll, like Bo Diddley or Howlin’ Wolf or Jerry Lee Lewis, taught me. That’s the stuff I listened to that was so vibrant, so alive, that it made me think, “OK. Maybe there’s another way. Maybe music isn’t just this heavy metal stuff my buddies listen to that’s just dumbed down music. Maybe there’s some sort of life here.” Finding that in myself through my own ability and my own talent, I’ve used that to play music I believe in and play with musicians I love and believe in.
One of our fans recently said, “A Cowboy Mouth show is like a religious tent revival without the religion.” [Laughs.] I always thought that was a good way to describe us because it’s bettering yourself through rock’n’roll and doing what you want to do with it, whether it’s just partying, drinking, raising a little Hell or maybe doing something a little deeper and walking that road for a little bit.
I’m not ashamed to put something a little more complex out there. I don’t want it to be something that turns people off from what they perceive they can be. Cowboy Mouth is a very inclusive thing. It’s hard not to like us. The music is not that complicated, in and of itself. It’s melodic, punchy, kick-ass pop/rock through a New Orleans filter. But at the same time, the message the band brings to the stage, both emotionally, physically and spiritually, is different from a lot of people do, and I’m proud of that.
Q: It seems like the same drive and determination and charisma with which you managed to build a musical career out of could have, under different circumstances, led you into politics or owning a business.
A: Yeah, maybe so. I’m not a big fan of politicians. [Laughs.] In terms of what I do, put it this way, my mom always told me I should start a church. She said, “You should be a TV evangelist. You could become a millionaire.” It’s like, “That’s not why I do it, mom.” At the same time, it’s not meant to be a religious thing; it’s meant to be more of an alive thing, about living in the moment – all the things rock’n’roll taught me. I really thrive on that. I still enjoy that to this day. think it’s important and something that people seem to get a lot out of.
Q: Since Cowboy Mouth is so closely associated with New Orleans, does it ever feel like your concerts are a kind of musical diplomacy, representing the city and its energy to outsiders?
A: Yeah, sure. To a certain extent. I think definitely a vibe diplomat. Our music, I’ve never made any bones about wanting to be The Meters or Trombone Shorty or anything like that. We’re a white rock’n’roll band. That’s not a predetermined thing. It’s never been that this is what the band is and what the band is going to say. It’s just the way has been, based on the situation.
I’m as influenced by The Clash as I am by Professor Longhair. I see the energy and the quality in both. I’m as influenced by AC/DC as I am by Dr. John. And I don’t see anything wrong with that. I’ve never made any bones about that. We’ve had some musicians who wanted us to go int a different directions, in terms of being more New Orleans. I’m not going to pretend that I’m a French Quarter jazz guy. I grew up in the suburbs, and I like rock’n’roll, and I like it loud and boisterous.
I grew up in the New Orleans area, and that’s who I am. I’m not going to repaint what I do just to fit somebody else’s agenda. I’ve never done that. That’s not why I do this.
In terms of being a New Orleans ambassador – I love it. I’ve always loved New Orleans. I’ve always found a certain uniqueness, not only in the city, but in myself through the city, which has really been a bright spot in my life. That being said, I am who I am, and to sit there and try to change who I am in order to fit somebody’s preconceived notions of what the city is or isn’t would be foolish. I’ve brought a lot of notoriety to the city, and I still do, but at the same time, it’s not going to be what people think of New Orleans being, in terms of the many stereotypical kinds of things. It’s more of the vibe of the thrill of being alive in the moment.
People work so hard to fit things in boxes, and that’s the thing about Cowboy Mouth – we’ve never fit comfortably in any box. I like that. [Laughs.] I really, really like that. I don’t want to be like everybody else, but it’s not something that I try to do. It’s not like, “I’m going to be different.” It’s just, “Huh. We’re different.”
Q: Which is why you can get away with having songs like “Kelly Ripa” right next to “Hurricane Party.”
A: Yeah, nobody cares. But at the same time, you have to be willing to do that. I can have “Kelly Ripa” next to “The Avenue” next to “Jenny Says,” and people say, “Oh, it’s just Cowboy Mouth.” I guess that’s one of the rewards of doing it for 25 years, people accept you on your own terms. That’s good; I like that.
But at the same time, it’s never been a conscious thing, in terms of working against something. It’s never been like, “I’m not going to do this because I don’t want to be thought of as this thing.” I don’t really care. I hope people enjoy what we want to do, but at the end of the day, if I want to play a bossa nova song, I’m going to do it because, at the end of the day, I do this for me. [Laughs.] You have to find the joy inside of yourself in order to make it work on a creative level. There’s nothing wrong with that. I think that’s one of the secrets to Cowboy Mouth’s success over the years. As a band, we’ve been willing to follow what’s been true to us. It might not be the trendy thing or – god knows – the smart thing – but we’ve always been true to who we were, whatever that is. And here we are, 25 years later and still kicking ass.
Q: You guys have a huge catalog already. What can people expect to hear when you play in Chattanooga?
A: I think I’m one of the few artists I know who actually enjoys playing their hit songs. I still get a really big buzz out of playing “Jenny Says” or “Buzz” or the later stuff like, “Joe Strummer” and some stuff off the new album. I try to make it 50/50 songs that people know and newer stuff that people will enjoy. There’s nothing worse than going to see an artist you really enjoy and having them play one song you know and then say, “Here are six songs that nobody wants to hear.” [Laughs.]