John Smith’s The Fray comes in like a wrecking ball. Whether it’s the soul-annihilating “Deserving” or the more subdued “She’s Doing Fine,” the indie/folk storyteller catches both the brutality of personal upheaval and the tender vigilance that’s since sprouted around his life.
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Smith had already been writing and collecting the odd song here and there, but when his wife endured a miscarriage and his mother was diagnozed with cancer, a cold reality set in. And he desperately needed to write through his pain. An album flung from his fingertips onto paper, and its creation directly correlated with his own pleas for healing. “I realized I was writing these songs in order to better cope with what was happening in life,” he tells American Songwriter over a recent Zoom call. “The songs were guiding me through it.”
Through “exposing the subconscious mind,” Smith’s sixth studio record teeters between self-loathing and enlightenment, two contrasting states always reliant on one another. His transformation came about from trusting the process, as he’s always done, but this time there was an immense shift. “I discovered I’m more of an optimist than I thought I was. There was a point a couple of years ago when I was concerned I was becoming a pessimist,” he laughs, “but actually I think I was a realist. By writing this record, I might well be an optimist. I think maybe six records in I’m starting to see the bright side of life.”
The Fray is unlike anything Smith has ever done. It’s not only a personal reckoning, confronting tough issues like a miscarriage and grief, but it was born out of a unique set of circumstances: the pandemic. “I wasn’t able to get into a studio with all the people I wanted to. I had to improvise. Part of that was the idea of recording remotely. I wrote the songs in a state of isolation. Normally, I write when between being on the road and at home. It was an experiment, and it worked.”
Collaboration continued as a dominant presence, as Smith enlists a bevy of talent, including The Milk Carton Kids, Sarah Jarosz, and acclaimed guitarist Bill Frisell. Each provides a vital and vibrant piece to the grander picture, and it’s hard to imagine the record without them. In the early days, Smith sent out various rough cut demos and allowed his contributors to essentially steer the ship wherever and however they saw fit.
“When I received something back, like this beautiful guitar solo from Kenny Pattengale in ‘Star Crossed Lover,’ all I did was play a supportive part. I didn’t put strings on it,” he says of one of the record’s most impressive pillars. “I felt between Lisa’s vocal and Kenny’s playing, there was no need for the string quartet I had arranged for that track. Suddenly, the contributors were taking up space I hadn’t envisioned, but it was working so well.”
“It occurred to me one day that everyone in lockdown living with another had perhaps encountered a universal experience 一 feeling that perhaps familiarity was dimming the flame, somewhat,” he continues. “For me, being on the road so much, when I come home, it’s a special time between my partner and I. We’ve missed each other, and it’s good to see each other. We’re in new territory with me being at home. I wanted to acknowledge that and write a song about how important it is to keep the magic of being with that person. I learned how to sing duets from touring with Lisa. It felt only right that she should sing on it. As with everything she sings, it sounded golden.”
Where “To the Shore,” co-written with John Garrison, turns over life’s innate frailty, as Smith himself has observed now as a man in his 30s, “Deserving” rumbles and cracks with the thunderous stormy weather of relationships. “The impetus for the lyrics was an argument with my wife. As often happens, I was stupid and afterwards, fell into a pit of self-loathing,” he remarks of the latter. “Out of that came this song. Anyone who argues with a partner knows that feeling of being in the wrong and actually then wondering if you’re cut out for it at all. It’s one of those rare occasions where you write something down and go ‘that’s exactly what I wanted to say’ or ‘that’s just what I needed to say.’”
Moments later, Smith draws his wife back into his arms through flaky, intricate, and moody guitar work. I lay beside you in the dark / Just the beating of your heart / I know the best of me is here with you, he coos, barely above a whisper. “The Best of Me” unzips the guilt of the previous song, while also taking full ownership over those faults.
Written with Sarah Siskind back in 2019, Smith was on his way driving from Nashville to Asheville when inspiration struck. “It’s a bit of self-awareness and understanding that your actions have consequences. At the time, I was homesick and aware of trying to be present in every aspect of my life and knowing I’m not always the most present person when I’m back at home. It’s a song about really trying to live up to the ideals of being in a relationship and performing well 一 not being too selfish as a lot of us are inclined to be.”
Despite the record’s emotionally-pounding through line, there’s no preparing for closing track, “One Day at a Time,” a thorny, teary piece about recovery after a miscarriage. And though we’ll never meet, my love / You’re still a part of me, he sings, tears tumbling.
“When we went through what we did, it occurred to me that not a lot of men talk about miscarriage. We’d been through it a few times. It was so relevant to what I was going through. It was a healing experience writing those words. So much of the record is facing up to the hard things that have happened and moving on with your best foot forward,” offers Smith. “I suppose every day is the first day of the rest of your life. That old cliche. There are times when you really go through something heavy, and you realize that’s true. The way you handle it and the way you behave now is going to influence the way you feel for the next few years. If you’re not careful, you can really screw it up.”
Culturally, the conversation surrounding miscarriage has certainly become more prevalent, leading to such artists as Carrie Underwood and celebrity figures like Chrissy Teigen to open up about their own harrowing experiences. But there remains a strange stigma attached to it. “There’s an implication of weakness. It’s a delicate subject for women. There’s this idea, unfortunately, that they have to have a baby, and they have to do it right and be a good mom. It’s an unfair pressure put on women to have children. People don’t want to talk about it. It’s something that happens.”
“We have a child. And we lost one, and it hit us hard. I didn’t feel like hiding from it. It’s an abstract pain for me. But it was hardcore. It was grief. We talked long and hard about it. It didn’t feel terribly British to air our laundry like that in a song, but at the same time, f*** it.”
The Fray is out now on Commoner Records and distributed through Thirty Tigers.
Photo by Elly Lucas
