Caamp frontman Taylor Meier isn’t fazed by writer’s block.
“I’m never like, ‘Oh, I wonder if I have the songs,’” he admits over the phone from home in Columbus, Ohio, during that liminal space between intense rehearsals and the kickoff of a 32-date tour that brings the banjo-infused folk rockers to the Salt Shed Fairgrounds for two sold-out shows on Thursday and Friday to promote this week’s release of a long-awaited fifth album, “Copper Changes Color.”
“They’re coming to me at such a rate right now and such a sincerity,” he says. And, yes, he understands how infuriating that sounds. “I’m friends with enough musicians and enough creatives at this point to be super aware of what the inverse looks like, and to see people struggle and go dry and doubt themselves,” he says. “I’m sure that a slower era is on my horizon at some point.”
The deceptively simple secret to this prolific output that keeps Caamp (in addition to Sumbuck, his solo side project) awash in deeply personal, bittersweet vignettes? “I don’t shy away from writing. If it comes, I write the song,” he says bluntly.
He fears probing deeper into the mystery of his craft. “If I knew, I don’t think I’d really be able to do what I do,” he attests. “Yes, it’s from me in a way, but it’s also very much for me. I do this stuff because it truly makes my soul happy. What I do makes me smile. I’m lucky to still be in love with it all.”
That rose-colored sheen dipped in 2023 after eight years of grinding it out on the road and in the studio, first as a duo with Caamp co-founder and childhood friend Evan Westfall (banjo) and then with an expanded, permanent lineup including Matt Vinson (bass), Joseph Kavalec (keyboards) and Nicholas Falk (drums). Despite incremental successes (late-night TV appearances, conquering Colorado’s iconic Red Rocks, major festival slots, a spot on former president Barack Obama’s summer playlist and strong chart showings culminating with 2022’s “Lavender Days” reaching the No. 5 spot on Billboard’s Americana/Folk Albums chart), Meier abruptly pulled the plug on all the band’s remaining appearances for the year citing “untimely knocks to my health” in an Instagram post and offered refunds to bewildered ticket holders.
Speculation percolated online, some of it wild and a lot of it invasive, like most internet chatter is, which didn’t upset Meier as much as it stunned him.
“I’m not even famous!” he exclaims. “I am C-list folk singer famous. I can’t even imagine what the actual tops of my industry go through.”
Apart from scattered one-off dates, Caamp flew under the radar until the “Somewhere” EP broke through the winter doldrums in February with Meier tenderly pointing out in his sandy squall of a voice on the first single “Let Things Go” that maintaining a death grip on the entanglements and duties battling for our attention is a recipe for disaster.
He doesn’t mince words in the lyrics: “You can let it roar / You can let it out / You can let things go / And anything your heart needs to make you feel better.”
“That song is the anecdote. It’s not an answer by any means, but it’s just kind of me trying to sing a lesson to myself,” he reveals. “I chose to keep the details of my struggle private and will continue to do so, but that’s the sentiment that got me through it and that’s what I want to sing to my fans every night.”
Gearing up to leave the comforts of home behind takes some grit, especially for a bunch of self-described “homebodies.”
“We love our houses, routine, community,” Vinson admits in a separate phone call, stressing that he’s not complaining about the road, it’s just “you caught us at the exact perfect time when we’re leaving in one week and it kind of seems like the world is ending.”
Pre-tour jitters aside, Vinson says the band is “fully, fully rested” and “morale is good.”
Meier emphasizes the interpersonal work everyone put in during the break to come back together stronger. “Heal the heart and fix the head,” he intones like a mantra. And just like Dorothy and her ruby slippers, the path to this place of ease always lurked inside him.
“You have all the tools the whole time, but it’s just what you choose to pay attention to. Maybe I was paying attention to the wrong things — whatever it was. But I feel as if I’m dialed into the right things now,” he explains.
In between the expected campfire harmonies and a left turn into Strokes-era nostalgia, the gorgeous “Copper Changes Color” lays bare Meier’s evolving mental state. In the jostling “Mistakes,” he sings, “Feels like I’m just trying to keep my plants alive / And trying to drink water,” while in the plaintive, piano-driven “Living & Dying & In Between,” he reveals “I wanna live/I don’t want to die/They can feel so much alike.” Madi Diaz guests on the gauzy “One True Way,” which contemplates if we’re really meant for one thing. And “Drive” cinematically rides off into the sunset, unsure of the destination, but certain of how to get there.
The album’s 11 tracks don’t strive to be confessional, just open.
“It’s kind of been this crazy process of, as I’ve gotten older, of getting a little bit more transparent,” Meier explains. “Before, it could have been maybe construed on life stuff that I was wanting to feel. But there’s bits of me in there now and I don’t really hide from it or hide behind it.”
Recorded in bursts between Oregon, Texas and New York, the sessions for “Copper Changes Color” adhered to the same process in place since the band’s self-titled debut in 2016. Meier brings in almost fully-fleshed out songs, which the band learns on the spot and then it’s go-time.
“It’s not as do or die as it sounds,” Vinson reassures. Minor things can be added or edited out months later, but importantly, “there’s an element of something live in everything Caamp has truly ever done.”
That ability of the five members to lock-in on stage or in the studio without going “through the grinder” to achieve it keeps the band from straying too far.
“Our chemistry playing is something that will never not amaze me. Just being in a room together and the telepathy of our musicianship, which is fueled by our friendship — that will never get old,” Vinson says.
Meier shares the sentiment. “There’s always gonna be other music and other projects and other collaborators in my life,” he admits. But, “I always come back home.”
Janine Schaults is a freelance writer.
Caamp performs at 6 p.m. June 5-6 at the Salt Shed Fairgrounds, 1357 N. Elston Ave.; (sold out) saltshedchicago.com