“I may not have paid all of my dues, but I’ve had plumbing jobs and I worked in a bread factory—which was really tough,” Adams continues. “I did that while I was doing bands like The Patty Duke Syndrome in Raleigh over 10 years ago. And ever since I’ve been able to write full time; it’s never been a drag for me. It’s my life’s work. I get up and think, ‘I’m so happy that I get to stay in and write.’ It brings me such tremendous joy because its physical, it’s tremendously creative and it’s selfless. In a lot of ways I have to hand over my conscience to tap into new ideas. The whole process is really about how to further communicate and get ideas into the world that maybe I didn’t even really know. Songwriting can be a lot like meditating, but it isn’t an ego trip. It isn’t about that for me. It’s about being excited. It reminds me of skateboarding or going to the movies, all the things that I get excited about. It’s a pretty dark world. There’re a lot of bad days in a life, and it seems to me that I can think of thousands of other things…destructive and hurtful things…that can occur in life. So I’m really happy to share my stuff. I think maybe the world would be a little less nasty if people realized that they can make art.” Despite the fact that he’s performed countless times on stages throughout the world, the man behind the tunes on Easy Tiger still finds it a little intimidating to get up there night after night and face his fans. “The world these days is pretty much designed to trash people straight on,” he confesses. “And I guess it’s about insecurity, but I guarantee you that at a concert hall, 95 percent of the time the people onstage feel some kind of anxiety. It’s like dropping in on a big half pipe, every time. But once I’m up there playing music with my pals, I can really get into my groove. But each night is different. There are a lot of different people out there in different moods, and you never know what you’re going to get—whether it’s going to be a nice, sunny day or a fucking tsunami. I’ve played some shows that are just frightening. It can be intimidating. It’s strange to get shit from your quote-unquote fans. We don’t play anything remotely political or controversial, but people get so damn strung out about it…when all we’re looking to do is have some fun.” In keeping with that notion, the near future will see The Cardinals gearing up for a massive fall tour. “You see, I hate festivals,” Adams says, “because there are no soundchecks, which is bad for every band. You get a big paycheck but I think it’s a big screw job for the fans. That’s why I’m planning on two sets this fall with two different band situations…acoustic guitars, steel, piano and a little drumset like in the The Grateful Dead Reckoning-style for a 28 song set…and then a second electric set that sounds almost like a whole side of Cold Roses that we’ve never played, and even stuff from the Gold and Love Is Hell eras that no one has ever heard. So, I have a feeling by the time autumn rolls around, The Cardinals might be opening for The Cardinals with two different vibes in one night. I think of how much ground we could cover. It would be really fun and a bit of a challenge, which is something I pride myself on.” As for the 2007 Christmas present du jour for all his disciples, Adams is truly ecstatic about the project. “For the first time it looks like it is going to be more than an idea,” he exclaims. “Maybe around Demolition or the Love Is Hell era, it was a possibility, but it didn’t really come to pass. When a record comes out, you never really know how busy you’re going to get and sometimes all of your attention has to go there. And now it seems like a really good idea. When I spoke to the guy [Luke Lewis] who runs the label, we agreed it seemed like the right time. There’s already so much from the past that, for anyone who has ever watched it as a mini series, enough of the plot has been unraveled…it’s going to be good to show people the connections between all of my records…because there’s more or less an album between every record, and any person who’s ever bought any of the records I’ve made, [would regognize] like these little missing sequences—these records that happen in between—that may or may not have been as interesting, but are actually more like Easy Tiger. It will be more defined by tunes and less by the themes in between them, because it was the thematic pieces, those grand gestures that I put more of the argument into, as opposed to handing in the 12 best songs I had at the time.
