PRESS Robert Francis 2007

With cover art that mimics Bob Dylan's The Times They Are a-Changin' right down to the typeface, One by One demands (and, perhaps, deserves) to become a staple of the modern-day folk catalog. Nineteen-year-old Robert Francis is already impressively self-sufficient, playing nearly ever instrument -- from guitar to glockenspiel -- on this self-produced debut. It would be an understatement to say that Francis' musicianship belies his young age, as some of One's best songs already harbor the rustic, world-weary quality that many artists spend their careers cultivating. Whether or not Francis has actually experienced the pastoral blues that color his lyrics is beyond the point; his dusty baritone and heartland imagery make the potential fib worthwhile. From the right-handed piano twinkles of opener "Mama Don't Come" to the gorgeously hypnotic, looping closer, there's an airy sense of space to these ten songs. Even the album's most ornate material -- the seven-minute title track, perhaps, with its climax of co-ed vocals and sweeping violin -- is allotted enough room to breathe. When the orchestration becomes lush, Francis usually swoops in with a musical reprieve, be it a momentary break in a riff's rhythm or a touch of reverb to widen the sound. Even more interesting is his love for subtle, esoteric flourishes: a dog barking in the middle of "The Devil's Mountains," right before the bluesy pedal steel gives way to mariachi horns; delayed violin in verse two of "Little Girl"; the church-like harmonies in "Dakota." It's impressive proof that Francis' self-appointment as producer isn't the result of some youthful ego trip, but rather the most logical choice for a penny-pinched teenager -- or, for that matter, anyone whose music mirrors these rustic folk-pop strains. Dylan it ain't, but One by One is one solid debut. –Andrew Leahey

The opening lines of One by One set the tone for the debut: “I awoke in the nighttime / But you awoke first / You got up and got out / From a love that had been cursed” (“Mama Don’t Come”). It’s the kind of record that ought to come disclaimed for the newly brokenhearted.

Francis’ tone has a pillowed edge, which undercuts the gentle ebb from the backing score. His voice converses when it should, consoling from the shadows, and his songs are well-crafted embers that burn with the kind of cadence that glows with authenticity. The support comes in, at times, heavy with texture and complexity, a bounty of piano, lap steel and acoustic guitars, drums on reserve and a deep, rumbling bass. These instruments would lie emotionless without the soul of Francis’ cigarette-filtered vocals and lyrics saddled with pathos.

Francis is keen on removing the narrative structure most songwriters employ — a tact that breathes realism into his somber but irresistible songs. One example of his first-person approach is the song “Love For Me,” where, over a labyrinth of lap steel guitar melody and choked piano chords he sings, “I am a fool for loving you / How your hands feel around my neck / Our love was a sacrament ... and that’s the way that love turned out for me.” Another beautiful twist of the knife is how Francis sings from the grave, harboring uplifting lyrics by singing in past tense, a subtle reminder of the way that things used to be, but aren’t any more.

Like a record left to burn in the balmy sun of Los Angeles, where the infertile desert kisses the bloated suburbs, Francis’ debut is shiny enough to be mainstream, but bleak enough to want to hide in the bedroom. (Aeronaut Records) -Christopher Petro

So serene and meticulous is the indie folk on Robert Francis' debut album, "One by One," that it's hard to picture the clutter in which it was birthed. "I kind of took over my dad's workroom, and he's a bit eccentric," Francis (pictured) says of the space in his family's Brentwood home that holds 30,000 vinyl records and stacks of sundry magazines belonging to his father, Robert Commagere, a pianist-composer. "There's no space to walk, but there is a lot to draw inspiration from." It's but one reason the sepia-toned tunes on "One by One" (nominated for the Shortlist Music Prize) feel wise beyond Francis' years. His upbringing is another -- family friend Ry Cooder gave him his first guitar; John Frusciante gave him lessons; he remembers stealing onstage at age 8 with Harry Dean Stanton and band at the Mint; his sister Juliette Commagere fronts the L.A. band Hello Stranger. "There was never anything else I saw myself doing but making music," says Francis, 20. But while he waxes poetic on the likes of John Hiatt and Steve Earle -- and can't wait to hear the new Levon Helm album -- Francis' own creative juices only started to flow after some uneven times. He dropped out of high school "and just stayed at home and partied a lot" before eventually spending six months sequestered in the room tweaking the album. "It was tedious," he says, "but there were times I got that feeling that, yes, this is why I wrote it." -Kevin Bronson

For young artists, the line between idolatry and ingenuity can be so murky sometimes that it's difficult to assert one's presence in a way that will set them apart. This is particularly a problem with young folkies, who are often burdened from the onset with tags like "the new Dylan" and such. Enter Francis, who, at 19, is certainly not doing himself any favors by modeling the cover art of his first LP after that of Dylan's third, The Times They Are A-Changin'. Luckily, Francis doesn't sound all that much like Mr. Zimmerman, and his choice of packaging should be taken as nothing more than a deferential ruse. The L.A.-native, instead, subscribes to a brand of folk more in line with that of Townes Van Zandt, Steve Earle and M. Ward, whose bright, gravely baritone Francis' most noticeably parallels. An incredibly gifted musician, who counts the drums, banjo, bass, piano, mandolin and guitar all as weapons of choice, he focuses more on traversing the minutiae of day-to-day life than on trying to change the world. Heartbreak finds its way into the bulk of the songs, but it's never precious to the point of nausea, which can't be said for most artists his age. As first efforts go, there's not much more you can ask for. Keep an eye on this kid. - Kevin Kampwirth

Equally precocious opener Robert Francis is fast becoming a hometown hero at only 19 and will spread the word as the opener on Higgins' current U.S. tour. Rising to the occasion, he delivered a rousing set of countrified indie rock from his debut, "One by One," released last summer. He channeled a Gram Parsons vibe on the melancholy, lap-steel-laced "Love for Me," and the emotional exuberance and raw power of early U2 on his rock numbers. Several songs recalled Arcade Fire's arty, classic-rock hybrid and suggested Francis is still growing into his own voice as a songwriter. But he is clearly well on his way. –Sarah Tomlinson

Robert Francis' winsome indie-pop offers a dreamy look into the inner workings of the heart. His album "One by One" came out last month on Aeronaut Records. And that's Juliette Commagere of Hello Stranger backing him on vocals on the lovely title track. – Kevin Bronson

It's too bad we don't have much in the way of AM radio any more. There's a certain breed of indie singer-songwriter whose work would have fit perfectly alongside the "If I Were a Carpenter(s)" and "Baby I'm-A Want You(s)" if they only had been born in a time when actual music was played on the radio. Josh Ritter is someone who comes instantly to mind, and Ryan Adams, of course, and Patrick Park. Add to that list Robert Francis, the 19-year-old Los Angeles dweller whose debut One by One is just now hitting wide release. (It was given a "soft release" in August and is making its way to the masses this week.)

Francis shares Adams' penchant for tousled hair and shades and many of Dylan affectations. Musically, though, he bears a striking resemblance to Ritter, from the instrumentation to the phrasing to the Leonard Cohen fixation—it's uncanny on songs like "Little Girl" and "Dakota" and "Good Hearted Man." He's not quite as polished—or as accomplished a wordsmith—as Ritter is, but he was born in 1988, so cut him some slack. (And at least with Francis, you don't have to put up with the self-satisfied feeling that underlies Ritter's records.)

Like Ritter, Francis' stock-in-trade is acoustic-based music rooted in AM radio but fleshed out with beautiful, often repetitive, and often unusual instrumentation. Like Mellotron and glockenspiels, spooked-out pianos, affected banjos, the ethereal choir that opens "Dakota", and the helium-balloon backups on "Pilgrims." All of these touches are integrated to great effect, not only filling out the songs but giving them a sort of haunted quality in the process.

Considering Francis was still a teen when he put this record together, his world-weariness and gifts as a musician are rather stunning. He did have many advantages, though, growing up in a musical household with siblings in indie bands (his sister Julliete Commagere is in Hello Stranger) and family friends like Ry Cooder, who lends guitar here. Francis was Chili Pepper guitarist John Frusciante's only guitar student, and he learned his lessons well. He plays everything from six string to banjo to drums to glockenspiel—and he does so well.

In fact, most everything about One by One was done well. There are few faults to the record. A bit of teenage angst might be cut and a song or two stretch on too long, but overall it's a fantastically accomplished debut. The bio his distributor is using to promote the record has the youngster compared to impossibly great songwriters like Townes Van Zandt, Steve Earle, and Neil Young, which isn't fair to any up-and-comer no matter their age. Francis has many more records to put out before he belongs in that rarified company, but One by One suggests he's got it in him.

For artists and music lovers, what matters is music's power of connection. I've been contemplating this — and home, family, community, and what it really means to be connected — while spending time with Robert Francis' “One By One” CD. In LA, Francis' gently sung, midtempo folk ruminations at first seemed too precious, his voice a wisp that floated in one ear and out the other and didn't really stick. But here, Francis' music has quietly insisted on being listened to. It isn't individual songs so much as the overall lulling mood he creates that unlocks mental doors and encourages stream-of-consciousness thinking. The Gram Parsons-like fragility of that voice, the scooping cries of pedal steel, spacey loops and unexpected mariachi flourishes have an almost narcotic warming effect. It's easy to envision the 19-year-old singer-songwriter playing “Love for Me,” the slide-ornamented “The Devil's Mountains” or introspective “All of My Trains” in a Laurel Canyon living room.
Francis is old school, writing and producing his own songs and playing most of the instruments. He grew up with a mom who sang ranchera tunes, a pianist dad, sis Juliette Commagere (of Hello Stranger) and family friends like Ry and Joachim Cooder. From the outside it looks like one of those only-in-LA charmed lives. Yet what comes through most compellingly in his music is a beautiful, aged sadness. It makes the sonic world he conjures a strangely enticing place

When Robert Francis was 9. Ry Cooder gave him a guitar. Beat that. I could name-drop all of the cool people that Francis has crossed paths with throughout his 19 years, but that would take the attention off of his impressive debut, One By One, a shining example of modern-Americana-tinged indie rock. Forget all of the “next Dylans” out there…he might be the next Townes. –Abby White

On the sepia-toned cover of his debut album, One By One, Robert Francis strikes a hackneyed rock pose, sporting aviator sunglasses and gulping coffee out of a mug marked “California”. Yet the LA-area musician’s songs are anything but stale, and present a sound as raw and fresh as the coffee grounds at the bottom of his mug. While the album’s roots lie in folk-rock, Francis also employs jarring piano lines evocative of Philip Glass, edgy string arrangements, and occasionally manufactured beats to keep his music from going the retro route. On “Little Girl,” a Romeo and Juliet tale, he layers an abrasive fiddle over fingerstyle guitar and distant synthesizers; creating a complex, ominous backdrop to a simple, mournful melody. Francis even references the Bard, singing in his sawdusty voice “We were just two people alike in dignity, From ancient grudge to the mutiny of me…” Robert Francis also makes use of banjo, lap steel, and parlor piano, recalling great American songwriters like Dylan or Van Zandt without resorting to lyrical clichés or constructed Americana. One album down, and he’s already proving wise beyond his years. –Caroline Evans

INTERVIEW

At eight years old, Robert Francis was invited up on the stage at The Mint Club in L.A. to perform with actor Harry Dean Stanton and singer Chaka Kahn. Ry Cooder, number eight on Rolling Stone's "The 100 Greatest Guitarists of All Time," gave Francis a vintage National guitar at age nine. When Francis was 16, John Frusciante, best known as the guitarist for the Red Hot Chili Peppers, took him on as his only student. The youngest in a family of musicians that includes his sister Juliette, who is currently on tour with the Foo Fighters, Francis was destined to storm the music scene sooner or later.

That time is now. Last year Robert Francis was nominated for The Shortlist Music Prize in 2007 for his debut album, One by One. "The Shortlist Music Prize is a music award given annually to an album released in the United States within the last year, as chosen by a panel of musicians, producers and journalists, known as the 'Listmakers,'" according to the press release. The 20-year old has just embarked on a U.S. tour with Australian singer/songwriter Missy Higgins and will be making a stop in Boston at The Paradise on March 14.

With a voice reminiscent of Damien Rice and a mix of acoustic sounds and echoing twangs, this indie-pop musician's work has the making of a star on the rise. By painting pictures of America's heartland with lush, poetic lyrics and mimicking the cover of Dylan's The Times They Are a-Changin' right down to the typeface style, it is clear the image Francis wants to project. "If I could model my life after 'Sign on the Window' by Bob Dylan, I'd be very happy," said Francis in an e-mail interview with The Beacon. However, if he wants to be the next Dylan, he has quite a way to go-but One by One is a step in the right direction.

Categorizing his own music as "a small monsoon of emotion," the Brentwood, Calif. native who, as a young boy, would sneak into clubs to watch his sisters perform, recorded One by One in a friend's living room and on the second floor of his parents' house. He says that when it comes to recording, he has no specific procedure, but, "I've always wanted to have rituals." In fact, unlike other musicians, he doesn't seem to have a procedure for anything, including his creative method. "I don't have a process," he said. "Every song comes about in its own special way."

On One by One, Francis contributed drums, vocals, banjo, bass, the piano that twinkles on one of the tracks, "Mama Don't Come," the mandolin and of course, guitar. "I've worked hard to learn to play everything, but sadly, the one thing I can't play is the saxophone," he said. On tour, Francis's band takes care of most of these instrumentals. His shows also include frequent guest appearances by Ry Cooder and Mike Bolger, who has played with Red Hot Chili Peppers and Jewel.

Projected to be the next Townes Van Zandt by Performing Songwriter, Francis' music sounds like it's been written by someone twice his age with its simple yet comforting guitar progressions and lazy, bluesy vibes. Francis' influences include Fleetwood Mac and John Hiatt, according to his MySpace page. From the four tracks available to listen to on his MySpace page, Francis is certainly out to make a name for himself amongst the few poets in the music industry. His precocious lyrics such as "You were just too young and you were just too smart/probably the best candidate for a broken heart," augment his shrewdly clever and complex melodies. But other than attempting to emulate Dylan's "Sign on the Window," Francis' other goals are just like any other man in his early twenties. "I want to have a family, my license back [and] my Chevelle in working order again."

He's a little bit Dylan, a little bit Townes and a little bit of Kerouac, giving off a "beatnik vibe" with his casual attitude and heavy, wise-beyond-his-years lyrics. On one of his best tracks, "Alice," Francis laments, "I was destined for greatness/that's what my Mama once told me/but now that I'm older, the future don't see the way she sees." But so far, the future definitely sees the way his Mama sees, and it sees that this is only the beginning of great things to come from Robert Francis.

On Friday I hauled my trusty tape recorder over to Epic (formerly The Qwest) in downtown, Minneapolis to interview Robert Francis, an up-and-coming musician from Los Angeles. Robert is currently in the midst of his first national tour and is opening for Australian phenom, Missy Higgins. Sitting atop our perch in the V.I.P. section of Epic, I asked Francis about the grind (and excitement) of touring and the influence of Bob Dylan. We even talked briefly about Minneapolis’ best metal band, All the Pretty Horses, over the sweet sounds of Higgins’ soundcheck.

Francis and his 5 bandmates took the stage shortly after that interview to a rambunctious crowd of mostly high school girls and 20-something-year-old women who, presumably, were on hand to see the Aussie pop-rock superstar Higgins perform. But Francis’ silky alto voice and confidence behind the microphone easily won them over. Moving through a set that included both Francis’s signature upbeat indie-rock songs and acoustic ballads, he and his bandmates were able to give the untested audience something to talk about. The musicianship in the band was solid with Graham Lathrop showcasing impressive depth on his pedal steel guitar while Kati O’Toole’s textured keyboard parts added an interesting fullness to the sound. –Toby Cryns

MIKE WENT WEST So how do you make an epic song even better? Put it at the end of an album. For example: My Morning Jacket’s “Strangulation!” and “Dondante,” Built to Spill’s “Broken Chairs,” and Gillian Welch’s “I Dream a Highway.” You can add Robert Francis’ epic “All of My Trains” to this list. Like Deer Tick, Francis is an insanely-talented young singer-songwriter (albeit with slightly less buzz). Hailing from Los Angeles, he sounds nothing like his surroundings. Actually, he doesn’t even sound like he’s from this century.His music exudes both innocence and angst, hope and despair. His debut One By One is an earnest, introspective, timeless folk record that will undoubtedly be cherished by those lucky enough to stumble upon it.

What makes a folk-inspired singer/songwriter stand out these days?  Is it the stories that the he or she tells?  Is it the voice?  Is it the craftiness of the arrangements?  Everyone has their own opinion so it’s hard to say exactly which is more important.  However, it is clear that there are just a small handful of artists out there who are well rounded enough to be worthy of attention from all angles.  One such said person is Robert Francis. 

Up until now, the Los Angeles-based 19-year-old has been moving steadily towards being an all-encompassing folk superstar.  At just nine he was given a guitar by Ry Cooder and at 16 he was taken in as the only student that John Frusicante has ever had.  Even Francis’s sister, Juliette Commagere, exposed him to music at a young age by having him play in her band, the synth pop act Hello Stranger.  So based on previous endeavors alone, Francis practically belongs in the small handful previously mentioned. 

Although, for those who need a little more, there is always One By One to look at.  The debut, which was produced and played almost entirely by Francis, is a stellar foray into a crowded genre that is badly in need of some shoulders to be carried on.  The majority of it is full of simple, yet well-crafted arrangements that are accompanied by songwriting that makes Francis seem seasoned well beyond his years.  For instance, “Little Girl” speaks of a relationship gone so far south that he “can no longer seem to do anything right anymore”.  “Mama Don’t Come” consists of heart crushing lines like: “I ain’t even found a trace/Of the perfect things we found together/And the dreams I should have chased”.  Even the title track, which features some vocal work by his sister, feels as if it was written by a road-hardened man reflecting on his prior indiscretions.  Most importantly, nothing seems forced or false.  It’s all just Francis using his dynamic voice to share his tales with whomever will take the time to listen. So, does this all mean that Robert Francis is going to single-handedly make singer/songwriters interesting again?  Probably not, as there are scattered moments that make One By One feel a tad bit overproduced, so he isn’t exactly all the way there himself.  But it certainly is nice to see somebody with the potential to lead the way. 

-John Laird

For someone raised in Los Angeles, Robert Francis' music suggests a life growing up traveling between the stark contrast of neon and desert, skirting big cities and taking dusty backroads interacting with people who only listen to AM radio, drive cars and trucks older than his 19 years, and getting to know people over a cup of coffee in a diner. Robert has already worked with some greats in music (Ry Cooder, John Frusciante), trained musically, and now you get a sense he's gone looking for the life experience to write about. This is indie folk music: Wilco without the electric guitars, or Ryan Adams' Heartbreaker without the affected tone.

The album sets the tone with opening track "Mama Don't Come," low and sleepy with a gentle piano and strains of a steel guitar. The song that stands out to me is the title track "One by One," which fleshes out the female background vocals of Francis' sister Juliette Commagre into a duet. The lyric, "We end up passing one by one" suggests a double meaning of passing by an open funeral casket, reflecting on a life no longer, and of passing each other on a street, often in our own worlds and wondering how often we think of others. On "Little Girl" it feels almost as if I'm listening to Francis' message on a voicemail message, it seems that intimate and unaffected and again old beyond his years, "What kind of man have I become/who have to let this go/fate has made a fool of me/and I'll reap now what I sow."

Robert Francis' One by One takes you away from the big city bustle and rush into lush flowing open spaces. It will take you inside the soul where we hang on to those memories of easier times, of loss, of heartbreak. Less than feeling painful and heartwrenching, the music feels mellow and real. -Mary for Certain

When you’re only nineteen years old and extraordinarily gifted, being dubbed a wunderkind seems totally appropriate. Robert Francis wears the tag well, given that he produced his debut, wrote and arranged all its songs, and played practically all the parts. 

Though obviously an overachiever, Francis operates with a lowered gaze, recalling the nocturnal musings of M Ward, the reluctant deliberation of Conor Oberst and the distant ruminations of Townes Van Zandt. Opening track “Mama Don’t Come” bears a close connection to John Lennon’s “Mother,” in both its maternal reference and stark, haunting refrain. Francis envelops the sound with a spectral sheen, lending songs such as “Little Girl,” “One By One” and “Pilgrims” a rare incandescent beauty. It makes One By One a brilliant, breathtaking first step.

SideOneTrackOne Guess what?  No film recommendations today.  Maybe tomorrow.  Anyway, if you remember, on Monday I proclaimed that Mono In VCF were going to one day be very well known in the music scene.  Usually, artists that bowl me over so easily are very few and far between, but today I have another soon-to-be star in Robert Francis.  I first heard of the guy a few weeks ago when I was sent some samples of his work and, while I was instantly impressed with his sound, I was blown away by the fact that at 19 he produced his debut, One By One, and played just about every instrument imaginable in the process.  Though, I bet I would be pretty good too if I started playing music at age 9 and then spent some time training with John Frusciante.  Yeah, probably not.  Enjoy.

Little Girl:  Robert doesn't really bother with anything too fancy here, but that isn't to necessarily say the arrangement is lacking of anything worth noting, as there are some nice details that add to the atmosphere.  It's just that the main emphasis is all on the songwriting, which is mostly one giant tale of heartbreak.  Of course, you should know that by heartbreak I do mean depression-inducing.  I don't know what happened to Robert, but even I feel a little down with he sings: "I can't seem to do anything right anymore."  Bummer.

One By One:  This is easily one of my favorite songs of 2007.  Unlike the track above, where you're sort of forced to pay attention to the lyrics because of how pronounced they are, the songwriting actually takes a back seat to a beautiful arrangement that's full of sweeping violins and twangy banjo.  There's also some fantastic harmony provided by Juliette Commagere, who in addition to being his sister is the singer of L.A.'s Hello Stranger.  If you've been looking for a reason to love singer/songwriters again, Robert is it.

Yesterday, while going through the stacks of CDs on my desk, I pulled out a record by Robert Francis.  Within seconds, I was smitten.  Initially, I thought the record was an ode to Mercury Rev's Deserter's Songs, but I was mistaken. I immediately had to know who was this guy was and how he wrote such a deep and introspective album.  After making an even bigger mess of my desk, I found out that he was the only student ever taught by John Frusciante (of the Red Hot Chili Peppers), once received a guitar from Ry Cooder when he was 9, and is only nineteen years old!  Interesting.

His album, One By One (out today, on Aeronaut) is the perfect example of the new indie folk. To me, his simple instrumentation and slightly smoky voice, brings up images of a slow, dusty, post-break-up road-trip through west Texas. The emotion he conveys while singing resembles that of a hardened performer who has been on the scene for decades, paying his dues in grimy bars where no one cared what he played. His songs are both depressing and uplifting.  In my little world, that's better than perfect.  So perfect, in fact, that I've listened to this record at least 10 times over the past two days.

Check out "Mama Don't Come" and "Love For Me" and let me know what you think.  Does he have that special something? Or have I finally lost it? -Marc Vera

A 19 year-old with a privileged musical past, Robert Francis makes good on the promise of his adolescence... This is surely only a stepping stone into what should be a long and notable career.

With a voice that sounds like it was formed by a thousand cigarette drags, Francis infuses personal and relatable emotions in his folk-tinged rock sound. He is neither sappy nor unrealistic in his subject matter, and Kati O'Toole's flinty backup vocals play the perfect counterweight to his gravely vox.