Wise words from William Fitzsimmons: The Camp Symmetry interview

PUBLISHED December 13th, 2013 02:53 am | UPDATED March 27th, 2016 03:06 pm

William Fitzsimmons is one of my favourite songwriters, hands down. I still remember the first time I heard his music, having discovered him through the muddily mysterious alchemy of algorithms and commerce that is Spotify Radio. ‘Gold in the Shadow’ caught me by the nape of my neck when it popped up on the playlist, and that impression never left me – it was one of the rare moments that reminded me that there was still magic in music, a tingling of excitement when mind connected with the depth of a song. His songs, soft acoustic with minimal electronic elements layered on a bedrock of great songwriting, transmitted a certain authenticity, sincerity that was really refreshing compared to hearing say, Pitchfork’s Indie playlist. There was no trouble at all in pressing repeat on that album through the night. So it was with that same excitement that I looked forward to meeting him with the other fellow music writers at the Camp Symmetry media tent.

This festival had certainly lived up to its hype of being a music tastemaker, and the line-up had been superb. That said, there were only a couple of us there for William Fitzsimmons compared to the bigger media reception received for the ‘more famous’ indie artists like Wild Nothing or Ra Ra Riot,  but no one seemed to mind. In fact, circumstances seemed to conspire to create a moment of great conversation between us music writers and the deep-thinking, honest-speaking Pittsburgh native. Below, he shares his honest thoughts in a conversation about his favourite emotion, his past as a counsellor, and the music industry.

How are you feeling William? Is this your first time in Singapore and Asia?

I’m loving it. It was my first time, I had a really long flight, but it was really worth it. I didn’t know what to expect as I didn’t know much about Singapore … we feel very welcome here as it’s so language friendly for English speakers as well. We get to Europe a lot, as well as North America, but never this far out.

Are you planning more dates in Asia on this run?

Not on this run; this is just one show as we have a new record coming out next year….I really want to! You get stuck in these little patterns sometimes when you are touring, like ok, now we are going to do another two months in Europe and the United States. I keep telling my manager that I want to do much more in Australia and Asia…kind of anywhere, that’s part of the fun, just traveling as many places as you can.

This is kind of a serious question – you mentioned that you always write sad songs, sing sad songs…do you sometimes get fed up and say ‘you know, screw this, I don’t wanna be sad anymore’ …

I haven’t yet … no but that’s the cool thing! I will take about forty minutes to answer this, and would like you guys to take notes if possible…(laughs)

My favourite emotion is ambivalence: it’s the idea that nothing is ever a pure thing. There’s no pure emotion; there’s no moment of pure ecstasy or pure joy, right, all those things are fleeting. Neither is there a moment of pure tragedy; there’s always something good, and something bad, and those things are happening at the same time. I love recognising the combination of those two things together.

I recently adopted a baby, and getting to know the birth mother prior to adopting was a really special experience. When I took custody of the baby, it was the happiest moment of my life, but it was also the saddest because there was a birth mother here, and her heart was being broken.

So that to me…that’s the music I try to write about.  I just want to be honest, and an honest life is a whole lot of sadness, and some joy; it’s just both those things. I don’t write sad songs; they’re not sad songs. I think they’re just kind of honest….

…I took way too long to answer that. So let’s talk about the beard….(chuckles all round the media tent)

…So how long have you been growing it?

I actually trim it. I know it doesn’t look like I trim it. There was a lady on the plane, a flight attendant, she grabbed me and said ‘looks like somebody forgot their razor…’  (laughs)

No, I totally understand why people think it’s kind of strange or something. It’s about a year right now; it’s a family thing. All the men in my family had beards, so when I got old enough to do it, I did it too. And it keeps me warm in the winter, and I can cuddle it….

You were a counsellor before you went into music full time…a lot of it has got to do with labelling people, and categorising them in a scientific, emotionally distant way. But as a musician, it’s completely different with your songs, being emotional and all. Did you have times where you were battling the two selves within you, figuring out who you want to be?

The categorisation that comes in that field comes almost exclusively from insurance companies and the need to diagnose something that can be identified to be fixed so that they can pay money for it. The actual work of sitting with someone who is suicidal or a drug addict, which I did for quite a while, has nothing to do with categorisation. It does on the outside, but when you are sitting with the person, one on one, it’s just about connecting with the person and their pain. So I never really had too much problems dealing with those two sides.

The issue that I have in dealing with two sides is….trying to find a way to consider myself an artist, somebody who is making music, in what is entirely a business. The whole thing’s a business. Like, we’re here, we’re playing music, and that’s great, but we are getting paid to do that – so how am I supposed to feel about that? That’s something I have kind of struggled with ever since I have started getting paid to play music.

‘Cause it’s kind of bullsh*t… oh ‘well I’m an artist, and I’m really serious about it; thanks for all this money, now I’m going to buy some stuff with it.’ That feels awful, really awful; that’s why I’ve not learnt how to negotiate those things. That’s why I don’t pay Jake (his guitarist at Camp Symmetry) very much money — Jake: yea look I got seven dollars. And fifty-three cents. (laughs)

But it’s ok. You find a way; you have to deal with that duality every day, every time you make a decision. If somebody looks like they aren’t doing well, you either say, I’m going to help them, or I don’t give a crap because I’m tired and I want to go watch TV. You have to make those decisions every day.

Would be it correct, then, to say that there’s a certain kind of authenticity that you are searching for in the industry, between making music and getting paid for it?

Well I haven’t found it yet; I’m still looking for it – that’s a great question – (turns to Jake) we talked about this earlier today. I think the best thing you can do is to deal with the responsibilities right in front of your face that you can actually control. So for example, if a defence company gets in touch with you and says ‘hey we love your music; we want to use it in a commercial’ you have to make a decision: are you going to take this load of money and sell your soul in the process of doing it … you have to decide whatever’s going to let you sleep at night.

There’s really great people that work in the music business, and there’s awful people in the music business, and you just to stay close to the good people and try to navigate those waters.

Thanks to William Fitzsimmons for his wise words and his time, and to the folks at Camp Symmetry for putting on the awesome music fest that was Camp symmetry. You can find out more about William Fitzsimmons here.

Photographs courtesy of Camp Symmetry