Polyglot Adventure Time, with Keith McCurdy
Born and raised in North Providence, Keith McCurdy (he/they) is a songwriter and singer for the gothic folk ensemble Vudu Sister. Growing up in an artistic family, Keith spent time at Crescent Park and fairs around New England, picking up a wide range of interests along the way. They’re a French citizen, Romani, and a self-described Classicist who loves to dive deep into myth and lore. Get pulled in tomorrow night, Friday June 14th, as Vudu Sister plays Myrtle.
The Well (TW): Hey Keith! We wanna pick up on something you told Rhode Island Monthly about a year ago, that “The “Sister” part is important. I don’t really love the Vudu part.” Can you elaborate on that; why not just switch it up all together?
Keith McCurdy (KM:) The “Vudu” was something left over from a previous band I was very proud of, and there wasn’t much thought when that part of the name carried over. It’s difficult to build momentum in this business and maintain it. I have a long list of possible alternative names that I might consider when the timing is right, but it could be really tricky at this point—it would essentially be re-branding, which sounds really icky for most musicians, but you need to look at your band as your business if you’re at all serious about pursuing this as a career.
TW: And, for those new to your work, tell us about the Sister side.
KM: I often write from women's perspectives. I call it a creative androgyny, where I feel most comfortable exploring this part of myself. I don't feel masculine when I write and have related more to the feminine perspectives in the art that has inspired me, whether it be the music of PJ Harvey, the Riot Grrrl movement in the '90s, or the poetry of Emily Brontë. It always resonated with me when I was a lonely kid discovering my artistic voice. My collection of Latin and Greek songs, Burn Offerings, features songs from the perspectives of women and goddesses from classical mythology. I consider a lot of my writing to have feminist leanings, which isn't something I think is overtly apparent to people.
Vudu Sister trio: Diane O'Connor (front), Isabel Castellvi (left) and Keith (right)
TW: Can you speak a bit more on mythology and points of inspiration?
KM: From a young age, I loved fairy tales, Tolkien, medieval literature, mythology, and Dungeons and Dragons. This led to my study of classical languages and literature (Greek and Latin), culminating in Burnt Offerings. I am also a big fan of gothic literature, from Poe to Shelley to Lovecraft.
One of my other interests—not wholly unrelated to this literature is my fascination with religion and spirituality. I have been a longtime fan of Joseph Campbell and that branch of Jungian interpretation of myth and religion. I am much more interested in exploring these "big" concepts rather than themes that are too uncomfortably topical.
I write a lot of poetry and often consider myself someone who uses music as a vehicle to play with words in ways that interest or amuse me. Much of my writing is informed by the literature I have studied over the years rather than rock band lyricism.
TW: The way you approach lyrics—from classical literature, as prose—makes us think of Kate Bush, John Cale, Celtic Frost, etc. Who are some of your favorites?
KM: Of course, early influences were grunge and alternative rock in the 1990s, people like Kurt Cobain, who had a knack for irony and expressive, poetic lines woven beautifully into his song melodies. I chisel away at my lyrics once I’ve been satisfied by the sounds of certain vowels, alliteration, assonance, etc. I’m a big fan of slant rhymes. I’ve borrowed approaches from Old English poetry like the Seafarer or The Wife’s Lament, I’ve lifted from Sappho (7th century archaic Greek poet), Ovid (late Augustan Roman poet), fairy tales, ghost stories, and medieval verse.
Above: Keith age 7 with his dad (left); Keith shredding at 10 (right)
TW: This feels like a good point to ask for some recommended reading. Let’s talk summer beach reading, introspective goth-folk edition.
KM: Amusing Ourselves to Death (1985) by Neil Postman is a great book examining some heavy epistemological problems that have become increasingly relevant today. He makes an excellent examination of the sort of vatic nature of books like 1984 by George Orwell and Aldous Huxley's Brave New World. It is nearly polemic insistence that Brave New World is a more accurate cautionary tale than Orwell, basing his arguments in the history of education, entertainment, and general epistemology.
I always recommend Hero with a Thousand Faces by Joseph Campbell for anyone searching for meaning in their own hero's journey. Once they've graduated from that, I strongly encourage reading his book Goddesses, which is highly indebted to one of Campbell's mentors, Marija Gimbutas. Gimbutas was a famous archaeologist instrumental in many studies about the Great Goddess figure and the early cultures who still venerated her. The Language of the Goddess is one of her most notable works.
I recently picked Orlam by PJ Harvey. It's a long-form narrative poem in which she uses the West Dorset dialect. It has magic realism, folklore, linguistics, and Polly Jean Harvey.
TW: You mention having been a lonely kid. What was growing up like?
KM: My mother is a French national, and my father was half Sicilian, half Romanichal gypsy. They met and fell in love in the 1980s. My parents were both artists, and we made our living by traveling to fairs around New England to sell my mother's hand-made jewelry. My dad was a bass player, and music has always been a part of my life. I grew up very poor and deeply struggled socially and academically at school. Due to the pressures and anxieties from severe bullying, I dropped out of high school early sophomore year before eventually getting my GED. I started my first band around that time, which probably saved my life.
Keith performing live, age 17
TW: We don’t want to ask you to relive traumas here so feel free to pass, but with respect to bullying—with time, have you been able to empathize with or forgive people who brought negativity into your life? Or, any advice for young Well readers?
KM: My experiences in school were pretty horrific. I’d be reluctant to give advice, but I would encourage anyone to find healthy ways to channel their rage, fear, and pain. I was lucky to have music in my life, and books. I don’t spend much energy thinking about my former tormentors, but I don’t hold grudges. There is always some room for hope in your heart.
TW: Cheers to that, Keith. Thank you. What was your first instrument?
KM: I grew up in the 90s, voraciously consuming the grunge and alternative rock music brought to you by Generation X. I watched my young father play in bands, and when I first held a guitar, I knew it was all I ever wanted to do. I began writing silly songs immediately after being comfortable enough to pluck a string.
TW: You recorded with your dad too, right? Later on.
KM: I have some fond memories of making our second album, Household Items, with my friends Damian Puerini, Alexander Garzone, and my father, who played bass on that album and has since passed away (in 2018). We spent a magical week in October getting stoned and playing the songs live. It was a fun, aggressive, punky/grungy album, and I’m glad I got to make something like that with my father and that there is a record of it.
TW: Great record! We also wanted to ask about Mortis Nervosa, which you recorded over at the now defunct—but maybe coming back someday?—Columbus Theater.
KM: Mortis Nervosa represented a real shift in my songwriting and musical direction, I consider it a liminal album in that I was starting to change my attack in my singing and still coming out of this belting, aggressive approach but moving toward being gentler and allowing my tone to grow and become richer. It’s also a great representation of how I usually sound live, defined by the sound of Diane O’Connor’s violin playing and we were playing with our friend Amato Zinno on upright bass a lot in those years. I might have Amato return soon for our next record.
Francesca Caruso (The Infinity Ring) and Keith playing in Matera, Italy
TW: You also did something related to, or at URI?
KM: My Latin and Greek songs, Burnt Offerings—it was a fulfilling challenge and a unique project that synthesized my academic work at URI (my alma mater) with all my work as a musician. I was lucky to have been awarded a small grant to help with some of the costs, and I was lucky to have the guidance of my good friend and mentor, Dr. Daniel Carpenter, who is head of the Classics dept. at URI.
TW: Where else are you finding community?
KM: I have been a long time resident of AS220, the non-profit beacon of light in Providence. They have done much to help artists, especially young artists, have a safe place to practice, live, and perform. They have been a tremendously positive force in my life, and I greatly value their role and mission in our community.
TW: We also saw you pop up on The Public’s Radio recently—Rhode Island to the core! Ever make it out?
KM: I have traveled all over Europe. I started to make it overseas after my father passed away;. he had always encouraged me to travel. I formed friendships with fans overseas who had started reaching out to me over the years. This led to my first concerts in Sicily and Paris and, eventually, my first couple of European tours.
TW: Any good tales from your most recent tour?
KM: The most recent was when I was staying in Fiumicino, the city outside Rome that supports the airport there. I had toured for four weeks this spring and had one night to myself before flying to Paris for one last concert. I checked into the hotel and met some Māori Kiwis (indigenous people of New Zealand). They were there to commemorate the 80th anniversary of the WWII battle of Monte Cassino. We hit it off well (there was an increasingly larger group as the hours went on), and we passed guitars around all night over dinner, singing songs together (they all sang a few Maori tunes, and it was lovely). There were some older women covered in beautiful Tā moko, the traditional tattoos of their culture. It was an unexpected, magical evening.
Māori Kiwis performing in a candid setting in Rome.
TW: Staying in Europe for a minute, can you talk a bit about the Romani people?
KM: I am part Romani, the "gypsy" culture. They are an ethnic people without a country who came to Europe from India 800 to 1000 years ago. They continue to be persecuted to this day and often live in abject poverty. My grandfather was a dyed-in-the-wool Romanichal; he spoke the Romani chib (language), grew up in a vardo (wagon), and did blacktopping (asphalt paving, a common Romani profession) his whole life. At the same time, his sisters practiced dukkering (fortune-telling). It's a beautiful, unusual culture that continues to face discrimination, violence, poverty, and racism while at the same time is fetishized, romanticized, and appropriated by gadje (non-Romani).
TW: Thank you for that. So today, you’re not blacktopping. How are you getting by?
KM: I am a full-time, working musician. I play a lot of long, two and three-hour brewery and bar gigs to pay the bills. I occasionally supplement my income with part-time work here and there —on and off done private tutoring for children in subjects like English grammar and Latin. It is hard, and I make a very modest living; sometimes it's a real struggle. I used to work horrible full-time jobs, which left me utterly burnt out. I leaped into doing music full-time a few years after working in group homes for developmentally disabled people for a long time, a job I fell into after having only worked at places like gas stations and fast food joints. It was a soul-sucking, underpaid, miserable job that destroyed my psyche for a while. I am much happier and more fulfilled pursuing my art as a career and no longer pretending I don't want to do this for a living.
TW: How do you work through, or live with moments of struggle?
KM: I prioritize rest. I try to stay more organized than I have in the past, and I am unapologetic about my ambitions. I try to surround myself with people who are optimistic about creating art, doing great work, and encouraging each other in all of our respective pursuits in this crazy realm.
I also think it's important to collaborate with other artists. There is no single genius. You get better and do better work when you share ideas. I have been blessed to work with some great musicians, like Diane O'Connor (violinist), Isabel Castellvi (cellist), and most recently, Francesca Caruso, the violinist for The Infinity Ring, who accompanied me on my European tour this year.
TW: What’s something coming up in the next 2-3 months you’d like to have on peoples’ radars?
KM: I'm working on new songs using acoustic baritone guitar, a fresh and exciting new direction for me (I'm highly indebted to Emma Ruth Rundle). I hope to track some songs starting in July. We'll assemble some new releases this year as we work on the next album. In August, I'm heading back to Italy for a few concerts,, and in November, I may tour in France and Spain.
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Vudu Sister plays Myrtle tomorrow night, Friday June 14, 2024
