Jeffrey Silverstein
on slowing down and making music for yourself
Musicians and critics alike often talk about the space between the notes.
“In Japan we talk about ‘ma’ in asian music – the importance of those pauses or empty spaces.” (Conductor Seiji Ozawa) “That little bit between each note — silences which give the form.” (Violinist Isaac Stern) The jazz adage - “It’s not the notes you play; it’s the notes you don’t play” - is often credited to Miles Davis.
Jeffrey Silverstein’s music is reverent toward negative space. Both You Become the Mountain (2020: Arrowhawk) and Torii Gates (2021: Arrowhawk) are deeply layered works that remain buoyant due to the patience of Jeffrey and collaborators Barry Walker Jr. (pedal-steel) and Alex Chapman (bass).
In my conversation with Jeffrey, we talk a lot about the spaces between the music-making itself – the times when he doesn’t have an instrument in his hand. Jeffrey is a high school special education teacher. He is an active runner and loves to be in nature outside his home in Portland. He is a writer. By nurturing these spaces, Jeffrey’s approach to songwriting is deepened, and as listeners, we’re given work that feels rich, personal, and relatable.
You released Torii Gates in May of 2021. Could you talk a bit about what a pandemic recording process looked like for you?
With You Become the Mountain, we had the luxury of being in the same room together. For Torii Gates, I would go over to Ryan Oxford’s studio in town, and we would just keep things spaced out. I laid down the basic tracks and did my vocals there. For Barry’s parts, there were a few days where I sat on Barry’s deck, and he threw me a very long headphone cable. I would listen to him record this gorgeous pedal steel music from inside his home recording studio and direct him on the fly. With Alex, he would take a few passes at takes and send them to me, and then we would hop on Zoom and talk through what we did or didn’t like about his takes. Then Ryan would take all of those and just run with that.
It was a bit more piecemeal and definitely a lengthier process. Out of necessity perhaps, but I typically work fairly quickly, and I think part of that is I lean less on needing a perfect take. Once I accepted this was going to be a slower process, I began to enjoy it more.
Were there any unexpected gifts from this slower process?
It was definitely a reminder of the importance of making things just for yourself, and that there is an inherent value to that, whether or not you choose to share it with anyone or not. When I was younger, I would complete an album or finish making something and seek the feedback very quickly. I’d send it to a bunch of friends.
With this record, it was nice to just have it for myself, just for a moment. That next step where you’re starting to plot your release date, PR, and shows, where to some degree it becomes everybody else’s. That little bit of time right before it’s released, when it’s just for you, is very special.
You mentioned to me that you’re recording a new record. Where are you at in that process?
I just finished the first day of tracking and am really excited about where it's heading. The start of my school year is hectic so having dedicated studio/creative time helps offset that. Feeling very grateful to be able to back in a studio again with my crew.
The recording part for me (at least in previous settings) was never the fun part for me. Getting to work with Ryan Oxford, Arrowhawk Records, and Barry and Alex has been so impactful. It’s been nice working with people that I not only admire because of the way they play their instruments, but also because of how they treat others.
It’s also perhaps this serendipitous thing, but Barry's a geology professor, Alex is a music therapist, and I'm a teacher. So there's also this cool teacher-musician overlap.
Are there certain shared traits of musicians who are also teachers?
Alex and Barry are both new dads and play in so many different projects, so we’re all trying to use our time wisely. I would also like to lump myself in this camp as well, but they in particular are very patient, intentional people who have a sense of knowing what a song needs and how to serve the song. They’re really good at striking a balance of sorts and using their skillset in a way that supports a larger vision.
You studied journalism in college and today you still write for a range of publications. Did you go into school wanting to be a music journalist?
I always wanted to be around music whether it’s me writing, playing, or being around it. I was always trying to get out of it as much as I could. I used to spend so much time sitting in Barnes & Noble reading every music magazine I could find. I did a couple of music journalism internships in college, and I think there was a part of me at first that saw a bit of a twinkle, like maybe this is the path. But there was a parallel line happening when I finished school where I was in my first real band [Secret Mountains], and that took my attention.
Tell me about this gig you had with MTV.
I worked with really good people, and it let me be in New York, but it was absolutely bizarre to go to work in Times Square every day. MTV had this project called MTV Artists, which came about at a time when it felt like everybody wanted to be Myspace and create a platform for musicians. I was a project manager there, so I was often the first line of defense for when things went wrong. Around the same time, MTV had started a publication called MTV Hive. It was their attempt at something cool, a Pitchfork-esque site. The editors and people that worked on that site actually ended up working at Pitchfork, Spin, or GQ, and I learned a lot very quickly from them. They let me have fun with interviews and music assignments, so looking back, my particular job was funny, but it led to some really cool stuff.
Do you remember some of those first really influential interviews you had?
A couple of these were for MTV Hive, but I was also writing for Aquarium Drunkard at the time. I spoke with Kevin Morby when his first solo album came out; Andy Cavic of Vetiver, who is one of my all-time songwriting heroes; I talked to Sonny Smith from Sonny and the Sunsets; I interviewed the owner of the Captured Tracks label when they were opening a record store in Brooklyn.
Were you still with Secret Mountains at the time?
There was a minute where it was happening at the same time. That’s when that band was also split between New York and Baltimore, so it was a lot of back and forth. My identity was so wrapped up as someone in a band, and when that band went away, it was like, ‘Who am I without that band?’ I think the music writing helped soften the blow. Interviewing is such a nice way to learn something from an artist you really admire.
Eventually, I knew I had to get back to playing music. I knew it was in me. I did come fairly close to not knowing whether or not I would do it again, but a big reason for coming back to it was due to encouragement from my wife.
What does your creative practice look like?
I try to work on music when I know I have a dedicated two to three hours where I won't be as drawn to thinking about lesson plans or other life things. More recently, a part of my process has been trying to make demos on an acoustic guitar and a little portable drum machine. Even just capturing recordings on my phone more and singing into my phone. I also recently bought a field recorder.
I think a big part of my process lately has been about paying attention to the sounds around me versus always feeling the need to sit and make something. Even your non-creative periods or the moments where you're not with your instrument, those are just as valuable. Sitting and really listening to a piece of music and really giving it your full attention – that's all part of it.
Your monthly newsletter, Door At The Top Of Your Head, is one of my favorite things to read. I love that you balance writing about your own music with things like spotlights on local community initiatives. Tell me more about that project.
This month marks a year of doing it. It's been really nice to have an outlet to write that’s not Instagram and isn’t for a publication. It can be whatever I want it to be. With social media, it can feel like you post something and it’s here today, gone tomorrow. With this, it’s good to have a space to both recap some of those things and connect with people in a different way that’s not an Instagram caption. It’s from me, so I’ll write about what I’m working on, but I also want it to be about not me as well.
You write a lot about running, and you’re an active member of a running club in Portland. I’d love to hear more about that.
There's such a beautiful running community here in Portland, and there are enough running clubs here where if you wanted to go to a different one every day of the week, you could do it. I had been involved as a participant and then more recently, as a group leader of sorts for this group called the Stump Runners. This is a group that has been meeting for a long time, and they run mostly every Saturday morning in Forest Park. They’re very community-focused and are all about forest bathing and spending time in nature.
Running, for a long time, was a solo endeavor for me, and it still is. It’s a wonderful way to just get up and go. At the same time, especially now with being able to be with people again, there's just so much energy. I love it. I absolutely love it.
Are there other musicians in the running group?
No, and to be honest, I think part of the reason I love it is because it's not a lot of musicians. I don't always want to talk about cool music stuff. As much as I love to nerd out with people about a private pressing or a new record, there’s so much more to life. Sometimes it's so refreshing when you get to talk with someone about just about anything else, like what’s going on with them. I think it’s important to have other outlets and communities that aren't about your same exact interests.
That group of people is just so supportive, whether it’s celebrating other runs that people have done or other races people finished. Something that's happened recently is that so many people from that crew have come to my DJ sets or live performances in a way that was just so kind and humbling to me. I was like, ‘Wow. Y'all are starting to learn about this other thing that I'm involved with and you're showing up for it?’ It’s just really cool, and it makes me want to make sure I'm showing up for them in the same way.
When you’re not with the group, do you listen to music while running?
When I first got into it, I could never imagine running without music. I've done a 180 in that regard. When feeling unmotivated I'll absolutely turn to music to give me a boost (especially on the road), but I tend to use running as a chance to get back in touch with myself and what's happening around me. Music can be a distraction in that process.
I've come to realize that I will never stop listening to or looking for both old and new music, but my time spent in silence or solitude is just as important.
Jeffrey Silverstein’s music can be purchased on his Bandcamp. Visit Substack to subscribe to his newsletter, Door At The Top Of Your Head. Header photo by Shade Standard.
