David Ramirez
Schedule
Sat Oct 19 2024 at 08:00 pm
UTC-07:00Location
3404 E Rte 66 FLAGSTAFF AZ 86004 | Flagstaff, AZ
music for himself—for the sake of the music… and nothing else.
“I love all the records I’ve made in the past. But in making them, there was always the
thought in the back of my mind of where and what it could get me. I made both creative
and business decisions with a goal in mind… a goal that often never came. This time it
was all about just the joy of making it, about having fun with it.”
The Austin, TX-based singer-songwriter—whose decades-long career has seen six fulllength studio albums, three EPs, countless collaborations, and an illustrious supergroup
project in Glorietta—spent a season of rest away from his focus on writing songs. In the
wake of the end of a long relationship, he wanted to prioritize processing his grief as a
human, not as an artist bleeding on the page.
“The last thing I wanted was to write a heartbreak record. So I stopped writing
altogether, and I just waited until I saw my heart start coming back to life. I wanted the
next thing to be hopeful and sweet and beautiful—a testament to music and my love for
it.”
David’s new record All the Not So Gentle Reminders, which comes out in the late fall, is
exactly what he was waiting for. The 12-song album is an expansive succession of
dreamlike songs that tell his stories, yes—but more than anything lean into the
possibilities of the trip that music can take us on.
“I’ve been a songwriter for a long time. I love words and stories. But this was about
music. I wanted the long musical intros and outros [as on “Dirty Martini”, “Twin Sized
Beds”, “A Bigger World”, and “Dreams Come True”] to contribute to the stories and be a
part of them.”
The leadout track, “Maybe It Was All a Dream”, sets this theme of the ethereal and
dreamy from the outset. It’s a three-and-a-half minute musical tour de force—at first a
simple synth line over a subdued drum machine that eventually morphs into a grandiose
rollick of organ, drum rolls, and electric guitars. All the while, staticky, broken voices
repeat the almost-haunting coda that gives the record its name. In the end, this “dream”
is interrupted and punctuated by a recording of Ramirez’s own mother saying, “David…
David… it’s time to get up.”
Maybe it was in another life,
Maybe it was just a dream
…
Was it a memory passed down from another?
A cosmic sunflare?
Or just deja vu?
• from “Deja Voodoo”
In “Deja Voodoo”, Ramirez questions his own memory, wondering if he remembers his
life as it really was, or if even the past itself is a dream colored by time and distance. It’s
easy to wonder whether the not-so-gentle reminders are themselves facts, or just
figments of our imagination—something to be trusted or something to move on from and
get back our lives.
I’m over the anger, the sadness,
all the not so gentle reminders of my nature
I’m moving forward, I can see it coming soon.
• from “Waiting on the Dust to Settle”
The songs for the album were written during a writing getaway David went on for two
weeks, where he holed up at Standard Deluxe—a music venue and art space in the tiny
100-person town of Waverly, Alabama. His goal was to get out of the noise of Austin for
a while, to be alone, to get back to writing with the “uninterrupted silence [he had] been
missing.”
No matter how it adds up
Subtract all the shit holding you back
Stand up, shake off all the excess
You got a long way to go
Ain’t nobody meant to slow you down
• from “Nobody Meant to Slow You Down”
All the Not So Gentle Reminders was recorded at Spectra Studios in Cedar Park, TX
just outside of Austin, engineered by Charlie Kramsky at the helm. He tapped local
staples as the house musicians for the sessions, including Barbara Frigiere, Jeff Olson,
James Westley Essary, and Christopher Boosahda (who also helped to produce the
album alongside Ramirez). And in the spirit of the exuberance and joy of the recording,
he also called upon a handful of friends to contribute and sing background vocals
throughout the album.
“It made sense to bring in this group as we were so tight musically and relationally from
touring together the last few years. Like all my albums before this I never want to repeat
what I’ve previously made. This was no exception. I brought in Boosahda to co-produce
because I had never tried my hand at the captain's wheel, and I wanted someone
experienced and with a different musical background than me to bring some extra
shine.”
Throughout the album, David tackles memory and dreams, fleeting romance, the
possibility of something better ahead, and his own deep appreciation for music and his
place in making it. The fact that he considered giving it up altogether—a decision he
thankfully didn’t follow through with—All the Not So Gentle Reminders only serves to be
that much more impactful as a testament to music and its power.
“So take a look at me now
I’m quite the music man
Take a look at the crowd
We’re all here for the music, man
It’s the music, man”
• from “Music Man”
Most pointedly in “Music Man”, he recalls his own turning point as a boy, listening on a
Walkman his father gave him… a fateful turn that led him to where he is today. On what
is his most ambitious, lush, and exuberant record to date, David is leaning in fullhearted to who he knows he is at his core—and not letting anything else stand in his
way.
“I will always be me. I’ve seen enough of the business to know that chasing its praises
only land me in a world of disappointment and self-doubt. I’m wholly back in my chi and,
fingers crossed, have the strength to stay.”