Turning country music’s beloved motif of the American Dream on its head with societal realism sure grabs attention.
Delivering yet another scintillatingly unique body of work to their genre, Adeem the Artist follows their 2022 album White Trash Revelry — which earned the seventh spot on Rolling Stone’s 25 Best Country and Americana Albums of 2022 — with more contemplative wit and head-turning twang in their new album, Anniversary. The past few years has seen Adeem skyrocket to a household name within the Americana scene, and listening to their songs, it’s easy to see why.
Non-binary Adeem Maria strives to let their homegrown blue-collar Carolinian roots shine through to hone their authentic sound, entangling an introspective journey and socially relevant topics over sweetly Southern instrumentals. “They say to grow where you’re planted / But we wasn’t handed no garden either ways,” they sing in the tenth track “Plot of Land,” a call-out of broken economies and corrupt legislatures.
Released by Thirty Tigers on May 3rd of this year, Anniversary kicked off the three-week Happy Anniversary Tour on May 17th in Baltimore, Maryland, and will soon see Adeem making their way out west in about a week for a summer run.
We got to catch up with the songwriter in June to learn more behind the making of the album, their rise to prominence, pinnacle moments and much more.
We’re about at the halfway point of 2024 (which is absurd). How has the year treated you so far, and any notable highlights personally or professionally?
It’s been such a wild year already. I’m sitting in a diner in Indianapolis right now about to open for Tyler Childers. A few years ago I was running demo on old houses & blasting his music while I threw iron at plaster & lathe. That feels significant. We also got to headline my favorite little theatre in my found hometown of Knoxville, TN.
You recently put out what looks like your third full length album, Anniversary. How are you feeling about it a month+ later, and how has the reception been for this one compared to your previous album, White Trash Revelry?
It’s been a really interesting thing. I’ve been making and releasing records for almost twenty years now. My first newspaper review came out in spring of 2005 & Mark Bialczak said, “A storyteller is born.” Right before the pandemic, I felt very on the cusp of either finding a steady career in something else or finding some way to do this sustainably.
I released a song called “Pandemic Days” with my friend Dylen Terflinger and ran a little radio campaign myself, charting Americana for the first time in 2020. Later, in 2021, I released a self-produced record called Cast Iron Pansexual, and with that one, ran a publicity campaign myself.
That record got mentions in American Songwriter & Rolling Stone. It launched my funding campaign where I was able to raise a real budget for recording in a beautiful studio (Pink Moon) in North Knoxville. AND with the strength of that record, was given a budget to make it go places from my sweet friend David Macias over at 30 Tigers.
That said, this is my second album (third?) through them & it’s a cycle I’m kind of learning to enjoy. It’s hard to compare to the lightning that struck with WTR, but I think this one is going to be a slow burn. There’s a lot less humor on this one.
I will say that getting to record the music video for “Socialite Blues” (Pop Fizz) and featuring so many incredible heroes of mine was probably a major highlight for me.
Are there any common themes or motifs that permeate through the record?
Absolutely! The idea of cycles, of marking significant changes with anniversaries that reverberate in your skin with or without intention. I believe that the linear experience of time is subjective thing and that existence is all kind of coalescing in a single moment. This album is, in many ways, an effort at understanding the full scope of the human experience with a light touch.
“I spend a lot of time ruminating on the idea of folk music as folk medicine; the root, the herb, the mortar & pestle. It’s just witchcraft with melody.”
Do you find determining the order of songs on an album such as this to be a challenge, and how important is that to you?
Sequencing is actually something I really love. When I’m sequencing for an album, I usually start with the first and last songs. The record needs to find a way to introduce itself and resolve in some way pointing towards something resolute.
I knew I needed to begin this one with “THERE WE ARE” & it wasn’t hard to see “White Mule, Black Man” as a set of closing remarks. It hones in on my found hometown, it’s damning history of racial injustice, and the present moment that has grown out of that history.
It is, I hope, a calling in & a quiet reflecting on our most profound and important tool for creating a better world to share: what can I do? what must I do?
Is there a song on the album that was the most difficult to write/record for one reason or another?
Absolutely. “White Mule, Black Man.” It’s a song that is doing a lot. I wanted to explore this interesting little story about the town being cursed in the 1800’s by the death of a white mule in a traveling circus.
I also wanted to talk about the red summer, the violent riots that changed the racial landscape of East Tennessee, about the unjust execution of Maurice Mayes and the subsequent attempts and giving him the posthumous pardon he deserves.
And, most difficultly, I wanted to talk about Anthony Thompson Jr. and his execution at the hands of the Knoxville Police. Anthony attended Austin East, the school my kid is zoned for. We first heard about the incident on April 12th, 2021 when Knoxville made national news over a “school shooting.”
What we found out soon was that it wasn’t a “school shooting,” but an officer had fired rounds into a teenager in his bathroom. The officers were told he was armed due to the social conditions of the area, but still charged in and when they noticed the gun in his waist band, his last words are, “wait, wait, wait,” before they fired bullets into his young body.
It’s abhorrent. I spent months arguing with the most erudite progressives who could not recognize the senseless brutality of the thing. Even now, years later, we watch as they continue to call it justified. The firing of rounds into a child’s body as he begs, “Wait! Wait! Wait!” It’s disgusting.
I feel physically sick even now. I didn’t want to seem like I was raking this tragedy for streams or anything and I really expected to do a lot more with this song. I reached out to Anthony’s mother but, understandably, didn’t hear back & I didn’t know how to best champion him.
In many ways, I failed him & I failed her. Our little town should be committed to everything we can to make sure nothing like this ever happens again. We have an openly racist police department, we have an openly hostile mayor who masquerades as a progressive while constantly affirming and upholding fascist & white supremacist narratives.
Getting this song right was really important to me. I have no idea if I did it right. I don’t think I get to decide either way. I remain invested in ways to honor Anthony & to keep all of the kids in our community safe.
What does a day in the life of your songwriting process look like? Is it more structured and regimented, or more hop out of the shower to jot down an idea? Both?
I do not have a structured writing schedule. It just doesn’t work very well for me. I do schedule time to work because I’m a parent & a partner & a small business owner, but most of the work I do is while I’m driving.
I love writing while I’m on the road, coming up with soundtracks for the little forgotten towns that carve through the American south. I also think the biggest part of writing is listening.
The most important work I do for my songwriting is reading books, watching films, asking questions, staying curious, paying attention to the details, deconstructing and reconstructing pieces of art, imagining more holistic ways of doing all the old stuff.
I spend a lot of time ruminating on the idea of folk music as folk medicine; the root, the herb, the mortar & pestle. It’s just witchcraft with melody.
What has been your favorite/the most rewarding part of making this album?
That’s easily getting to work with Butch Walker. Talk about a medicine maker. Butch created some deeply healing songs for me with his Sycamore Meadows album. I learned how to play aggressive rhythm listening to his albums.
Getting to be in the room with Butch (and with so many incredible friends, too) just riding that wave of frenetic energy, bringing the visceral impact of the songs to life effortlessly. It was a special memory. I can’t believe I got to live through it.
What are one or two pinnacle moments for you as an artist?
Last year I spent a few weeks on the road with The Mountain Goats. They’re my favorite band of all time. I once worked on a series of poems called “all my heroes are named John (& other micro aggressions),” which I never finished, but JD of the Goats is one of those John’s.
Another, certainly, was hearing Brandi Carlile talk about my music on the radio. She called me “one of the best writers in roots music that [she’d] ever heard.”
Did you have any notable shows or events last month for Pride in Nashville or elsewhere?
I was only scheduled for one Pride event this year! And American Airlines made sure I didn’t get to it. 🙁
Does that read as funny at all or just like I’m being a Karen? I can’t tell but honestly both are true. I celebrated Pride with my community in the traditional way, just like nuzzling and sharing memes.
Featured photo by Hannah Bingham
