Music: Checking in with Ry Cooder

Ry Cooder's career has spanned five decades, with the only stylistic constant being exploration and change.
He came to prominence as a session guitarist in the '60s working with the Rolling Stones, Captain Beefheart, Taj Mahal and many others.
Since then, he's been best known as a visionary world music pioneer and an advocate for American roots music as an indigenous form. His new album is "Pull Up Some Dust and Sit Down."
An interview:
Q: The title of the album is "Pull Up Some Dust and Sit Down." What does it mean?
A: It's an invitation to have a conversation. Hang up the cellphone and let's talk for a minute, so I can tell you what I'm thinking. I like the line. It's a funny line.
Q: "Pull Up Some Dust" paints a grim picture of the state of affairs in this country. Is it a call to action, or more a therapeutic release for you on a personal level?
A: At this point in life, I'm 64, I guess I look back and say that all the music I've done was therapeutic in one way or another, or at least cathartic. It's what I do and all I ever wanted to do, but now we're confronted with these terrible tendencies in this country and I began to think that I want to do what Woody Guthrie or Charlie Poole did or what some old blues singer might have done, which is to talk about their life through song. It's one of the great things that American music is, or was.
You could say it's a call to action, which Pete Seeger used to say it was. He would sing a song to an audience, and this instantaneous transformation would occur into a mood and emotional tone of solidarity and unity and kinship. It's a tremendous thing.
Q: You're critical of the current state of the music industry. What are you listening to right now?
A: What I do to soothe my shattered nerves is listen to classical most of the time because it's very spacious, it isn't demanding, and it contains all the good stuff that I like -- mostly the French impressionists like Ravel and Debussy and cats like that. It's visual and depicts nature in a healthy way that I find comforting. I also listen to Mexican music a lot of the time -- boleros and the romantic stuff because I really love the melodies. It's very charming, and it suits my fondness for the period sound.
Q: Have you reached a point as a guitarist where you feel satisfied with your own playing?
A: Right now I am, as of making this particular record. It's not because of the record, but more the timing -- where I am along my path. I'm playing what I like. Instead of saying there's a certain amount of frustration or that something's missing, I'm playing good stuff and I can hear it, and I'm not struggling with anything anymore.
Q: Every time I advance musically, I feel progress but I also become aware of a larger universe of possibilities.
A: Luckily it doesn't have to stop. You can just keep going, and it sounds better all the time. As people get older they get better, or more interesting anyway. The emphasis becomes more about expression and awareness than speed and technique. I'm a big fan of (Hawaiian guitarist) Gabby Pahinui. The older he got, the more meaningful everything was -- the more that was being said with each note.
Q: Do you still practice? What are you working on right now?
A: Every day. As much as I can stand to sit around and play. I got this great mandolin from a guy up in Canada who makes these incredible f-hole mandolins, and it's so magnificent that I've been playing it all the time.
Q: What's next?
A: I don't know what comes next. ... I also have a paperback book of my L.A. stories that is coming out in a couple of weeks. That's not so much a career move as something I like to do, so what the heck? Projectwise, I couldn't say. You never know. I don't need to be all scoped out. I don't plan well, so I just wait and see.