When he’s home, Paul Thorn goes to church with his wife almost religiously; just don’t call him religious. The Tupelo-born songwriter is checking in from Memphis as he readies himself to get working on his eighth studio LP. The Blind Boys of Alabama will join in over the next few days, before Thorn's band heads to FAME studios in Muscle Shoals to finish recording. It’s a gospel record, but not a contemporary one.
DO THIS: PAUL THORN BAND AT CAPITOL THEATER 02.18.17
“That’s not the school I came from,” Thorn, 52, tells CL. “I came up singing black gospel and old-school country gospel.” He won’t be touching Aretha Franklin’s contributions to the canon, or even Elvis’s, whom Thorn says did gospel better than anyone. In fact, the average person probably won’t even recognize any of the songs they’re doing on the still-unnamed LP. We wind ourselves back to the topic of organized religion, and Thorn continues talking about what is — and what isn’t — gospel to him.
“I was there this past Sunday, but let me clarify,” Thorn says. “My wife is a member of the Palestine Baptist Church, and when I'm home I go, but I'm not a member.” He has addressed the topic in songs, but Thorn says it’s all a little tough to fall in line with. He isn’t criticizing religion, either — he’s just saying that he can’t ever be a member because what he believes is constantly changing and “what they believe never changes.” Thorn goes because he loves being with his family, and the time is validated by the camaraderie he sees in the sanctuary — especially with people who are suffering. “Some people live a more lonely life and they go to church and make friends.That's a good thing,”
Thorn’s been making a living observing people, and then singing their stories, for the last two decades. The first set at his February 18th show at Capitol Theatre will find Thorn tackling his debut album, 1997’s Hammer & Nail, in full. There’s a story about the time he famously boxed, and bloodied, Roberto Duran on that recording. Ringside doctors eventually told Thorn he was too beat up to continue the bout, but he hasn’t pulled any punches in his songwriting career.
“I could easily say that 90 percent of the people I write about are real,” Thorn says, adding that fans love songs like “Joanie the Jehovah Witness Stripper,” in which the protagonist rises from rags to riches despite having to lie to her mom about weekend income. “That isn’t her real name, but she’s somebody I know. She done squared up and is living a square life; I wrote that not to poke fun at her, it was to pay tribute to her.”
Honoring the individuals in his life — whether they’re family or fans — is a constant theme for Thorn, who talks openly about the tears that run down his 13-year-old daughter's face if he has to be gone on the road too long. There’s a loving tone in his southern drawl when he talks about a long time family dog they had to put down, and he laments having to give a stray to the pound after it started attacking his family members (“Unfortunately, I do not have Cesar Millan on speed dial,” Thorn says). He’s even cognitive of his oldest daughter’s choice to make him a grandad after she gets married.
“I'm not going to put pressure on her like a lot of parents do. That's up to her and her husband, whatever they want. For now I don't have any grandchildren, but I'm plenty old enough. Maybe time will bless me with it,” he says. For Thorn, whose last day job was at People Loungers chair factory just outside Tupelo, blessings come in many forms. There aren’t many parallels between his boxing career and the one he has making music, but Thorn knows that he’s competing for the loyalty of fans every day.
Read: Paul Thorn's new album of obscure gospel also features the Blind Boys of Alabama
“They’re all I’ve got in terms of my business and my career. Without them I have nothing — if I'm competing for anything, then it's to get more fans.” Thorn says. “If I'm going to leave home and have my daughter crying, and have my wife have to be a single mother while I’m gone, then I want make it worth my while.” He makes it worth the fans’ time, too, saying he hopes they can escape the problems of their lives for a few hours. Thorn’s songs all have blue-collar themes running through every minute of them. He doesn’t get political during our 30-minute conversation, saying he’ll leave that to the “experts,” but Thorn concedes that there’s still a lot of suffering happening in the communities he visits.
“I see that a lot of people get jobs, and the people that own the company give them a little bit of work, but they don't give them enough so that they can qualify for insurance and everything,” Thorn says. “So there's a lot of people hurting — they have jobs, but things really aren’t better. In politics, there's a lot of opportunists only trying to make life better for themselves.”
So for now, the gospel of Paul Thorn is very simple. Get on the road, tell stories, and connect with fans like he’s been doing for the last two decades. Most importantly, he needs to listen to the ones who’ll give him the truth even when he doesn’t want to hear it. “You know I've had lonely times, too, but overall I've been blessed with people that have come in and out of my life and sort of pushed me,” Thorn says before getting to talking about Elvis and the yes men who surrounded him as his life became a downward spiral. “[My friends] pat me on the back when I do something good and they tell me what I’m doing wrong. They do it in the spirit of love.” The people he writes songs about, and the people who support him, give up a lot for Thorn.
“I’m just trying to give them something back,” he says.
Paul Thorn plays Capitol Theatre on February 18, 2017. Tickets are $26-$36 and doors open at 8 p.m. More information is available via local.cltampa.com. Read CL's full Q&A with Thorn here.
