Folk-pop hits – and hairy pits – put Paula Cole’s name at the forefront of the late ’90s golden age for female singer-songwriters. It wouldn’t have been that decade without the Dawson’s Creek song, her ubiquitous “I Don’t Want to Wait,” and the staple “Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?”
Cole disappeared for many years afterward, reemerging with 2007’s jazz-tinged Courage. In September she released its follow-up, Ithaca, her fifth album.
Outside of a Massachusetts coffeehouse, Cole spoke to us about the new disc, sucking at social networking, her growing gay following – and yes, even her armpit hair.
So the album’s Ithaca – is that where you’re living right now?
No. I live back in my hometown of Rockport, Mass., and Rockport really is my Ithaca – my home and the place I’m coming back to after a long bout in the world slaying dragons and all that. I did live in Ithaca, N.Y., when I was very young. We lived in a trailer park and it was kind of a tough time for my family, so it represents some place of inner fortitude for me.
How personal is the album for you?
It’s really an important album for me. These songs – the vast majority of them anyway – were written while I was going through the divorce, and I was just so lucky to have music to turn to, some place to help me heal. These songs just demanded to be written.
You go through periods of drought as a writer, and you don’t know when the mystery will hit, and that mystery – that beautiful muse – was very alive for me in this period.
Were they written over a long period of time then?
Well, I was stuck in divorce court for two years, so they were certainly written then – and also, after. I made Courage while I was coming off a long hiatus, a long time away from the music business. And that was necessary. But I needed help with Courage. I needed co-writers, because I was this kind of broken bird.
With Ithaca I wanted to get back to my process that defined the work of the ’90s for me, where I wrote my songs 100 percent with a highly personal process. I wanted to be involved in production again, because I’m a music geek (laughs).
Do you feel acclimated now with the way the business has shifted in the last decade with social networking sites and such?
(Laughs) I pretty much suck at social networking, and I suck at promoting and photo shoots, and I have to go and confront those weaknesses. I really am much more of an introvert, but I need life with music in it and I need to make a living with my music. It’s the only thing I want to do. I’m in a groove of being in the world again, of not being such a hermit. I feel like I’m an anomaly though – a 42-year-old white woman aiming for a second career.
There’s no pressure from the label to Tweet or Facebook?
They’re making me! They’re standing over me with a whip! (Laughs) I’ve never Tweeted – am I saying the verb correctly?
Yes, that’s correct.
It just sounds so much like twat. I just can’t fucking take it seriously (laughs). I’m not going to discuss my latest bowel movement. It’s just so ridiculous to me.
What I do is all there at the live shows. If they’re interested, just come to the live shows. I’m really proud of that. I mean, I’m a writer but I also really need the live shows. I would be a horribly bitchy and anxious person if I didn’t have music to help me through this life. I need it as much as I need air.
Do you feel like you’re obligated to play “I Don’t Want to Wait” on tour?
Oh yeah, but that’s OK; it’s like an old friend. And that song plays itself. It’s always fun, it’s always uplifting. It’s an important part of the set.
Any regret because of its association with Dawson’s Creek?
(Laughs) It’s mixed. On one hand I feel like it’s outrageous for me to complain because that song paid for my living off the road and taking care of my asthmatic child. That song gave me a living, so I’m incredibly grateful for it. But it is very weird. I’m a committed musician with my college degree in music for God’s sake, so it’s kind of disgusting that I’m compartmentalized and stigmatized by these moments really – a moment of a hairy armpit at the Grammys or the Dawson’s Creek moment or my two hit songs.
The hairy pits moment was a big deal.
It’s all fine. It’s all good fun. It’s all passed now. And it’s all not very important either, is it? But I guess it’s just funny, and I was just too stressed to roll with the joke at the time. I was on a plane to Europe and overworked and just stressed out. I was also pretty naive; I had never watched the Grammys, and then I was on it. I was very unprepared.
You didn’t know you were supposed to shave your armpits?
Well, I just didn’t think it would be so noticed. I don’t know what I thought. I don’t know what I think of it even now. I don’t think I’m anymore prepared for the Grammys now than I was before (laughs).
But anyway, it’s very weird to be defined by that when I consider myself a very committed musician. But that’s OK, because right now I have a chance at a second, more authentic career – and how many artists really have that chance? I feel very fortunate. A lot of artists that are my peers, my age, don’t even have record deals anymore. They’ve sold more albums than me, but they might not be inspired to write or as prolific or as full of acid and fire in their bellies. And I am.
You have quite the lesbian following.
Yes, I definitely have my lesbians, and I also have my men – my gay men following – and I find that that’s the most quickly growing of my fan base now. Since coming back with Courage, I’m finding a lot more young gay men at my shows now.
Any idea why now?
Gosh, I find that they know a lot of the rare B-sides, and I’m a real singer with a big range and it’s such a generalization – and I don’t want to generalize – but they do love their females with big voices, and I’ve got that. I’ve got a big ol’ voice.
I feel like, also, I am perhaps a story of empowerment because I am once again picking myself up by the bootstraps – and we all need those messages, right? We need those positive affirmations.
