In less reported news this week, St. Vincent announced in an open email to her fans, and anyone else on her mailing list in fact, that she was humbled and grateful to pick up the Grammy award for Best Album That Kanye Isn’t Pissed About, winning with her self-titled fourth album.
In her email, she talked of her early days performing live -
i was performing solo; just my voice, a guitar through an array of effects pedals, a “stomp board” - a homemade device i made out of a piece of plywood and a contact microphone that i ran through a bass EQ pedal, and a keyboard. i thought the keyboard looked unmysterious on it’s own, so i designed a lighted wooden enclosure to go around it. my brother-in-law helped me build it in his garage. it weighed a gazillion pounds and gave me splinters to carry, and i don’t think anyone was under any illusion that there was anything but a keyboard inside it. neither the first nor the last in a series of hilariously ill-fated ideas.
Showing an admirable disregard for capital letters, she went on to describe some of the many highlights of life on the road -
i have eaten years of veggie subway sandwiches on highways 10-90, stayed at a super 8 motel behind a kansas federal prison, peed in cups in dressing rooms when there was no bathroom, gotten eaten alive by bedbugs at a cincinnati days inn. i would not trade a single highway or city or moment or person i met for anything. i have loved it all.
We’ve all felt the thrill of being eaten alive by bedbugs, Annie, trust me. That’s what keeps us coming back for more.
Finally, there were thanks for everyone that had made it all possible -
i’m very grateful to have received this grammy. thank you to my producer john congleton, thank you family, thank you friends, thank you to all the incredible musicians involved, thank you managers and agents and publishers and labels and publicists and everyone who works hard at their jobs. and thank you guys. thanks for everything.
I can tell you know, you wouldn’t have got this sort of love from Alt-J.
We tried to get hold of Jack White’s guacamole chef for a quote, but no luck there.
Read RRP’s review of the excellent St. Vincent, the fourth-placed album in our end of year rundown.