About That Song: Joseph Huber
About That Song #92
In our special series, singer-songwriter Sarah Morris interviews artists about the songs that shaped them.
Hi! I’m Sarah Morris. I’m wildly in love with songs and the people who write them. There have been a few songs in my life that have been total gamechangers—songs that made me want to be a songwriter and songs I’ve written that made me feel like I am a songwriter. About That Song is a space where I can learn more about those pivotal songs in other writers’ lives.
For our 92nd edition, I had an excellent chat about songwriting with Joseph Huber, a Wisconsin roots artist who skillfully combines introspective lyricism with sounds that energetically straddle the Americana and bluegrass genres and has released at least half a dozen albums, including, most recently, Blasthouse Sessions—a live album.
Joseph Huber. Photo courtesy of the artist.
Sarah: Hi Joseph Huber! You hail from Wisconsin, are frequently found on the roads of both the US and Europe, and in a few weeks, you’ll be taking to the Hook and Ladder Theater stage in Minneapolis as part of the second installment of Amerigrass, a fantastic one-night festival hosted by our friends, Maygen & The Birdwatcher! This feels like an excellent time to learn a bit more about you and the songs that have shaped you. Do you remember the song you heard that made you want to be a songwriter? Tell us about that song.
Joseph: I suppose I’ve been attempting to write songs since I first started listening to punk as a small kid around 5th to 6th grade. Does that count? I guess not really, because even at the time, I was obsessed with “trying” to write songs, while being very self-aware that I obviously did not have the life experience to be able to actually succeed at writing anything other than superficial drivel. But that didn’t stop me from obsessively trying to write, to the degree that my grade school (and even into high school) friends I played in bands with had to set me aside at a band practice and say, “Joe … we’re kids! This is supposed to be fun, and if you’re freaking out about not finishing a song for band rehearsal … dude … it’s ok.”
Long story short, there was no specific song, but the Rancid Let’s Go! and …And Out Come The Wolves albums both set my brain absolutely on fire, telling me I need to write songs like them and be in a band and focus solely on that. Those albums mixed punk with elements of reggae/early ska music and made it hard-edged and poetic at the same time.
Sarah: Wow! I’m fascinated by the idea that you had such clarity of purpose at such a young age. Even when we write superficial drivel (that might be mandatory? At least at first?), we’re still WRITING, and that’s such a (to me) valiant act.
Once you began writing, did you feel like a writer immediately? It took me a few years of writing before I believed it—was there a song that gave you that “a-HA! I AM a songwriter!” moment? Tell us about that song.
Joseph: I agree … I wrote for many years before feeling not like a complete hack. The a-HA! song for me … That would probably be the song “Hello, Milwaukee,” which I wrote when I was in The .357 String Band. I was probably 26 and had been one of the three songwriters in that band, but still had no pride in my current efforts toward the band. The circumstances surrounding the band allowed my writing to bloom, though. A) I was thrown into a hard-touring band that traveled the world non-stop; B) everyone in the band was pretty hilarious, insane, social, and got us into fun or absurd situations and meeting interesting people; C) our entire lives were driving and our bass player never let anyone else drive … so alllllll I did all day long was read and write.
My life became reading and writing and then, at the end of the day, playing a show. That’s where it first truly took off. The songs from those drives and crazy days became my Tongues of Fire album, which, regardless of the recording quality, showcases a lyrical and musical development in a fairly exponential scale compared to the old .357 String Band tunes. Or so I believe.
Sarah: “Hello Milwaukee.” I’ve said those words as I’ve driven into that town. Despite the title, you start that song with a goodbye. What can you tell us about that song?
Joseph: It was .357 String Band’s very first big-big cross-country month-long tour, and my partner and I had just split up, so instead of the tour being a wide-eyed, free and wild adventure with my dear bandmates and friends, it was a grotesque projection of my own self-indulgent misery spread across the American landscape that would have otherwise been majestic and awe-inspiring. So, in each verse of the song, I create a juxtaposition between the beauty of the land and scenery against the tortured inner world that was viewing it. So, like many other songs’ origins, it was a regretful, unfortunate experience all around, but it became one of those “Hey … at least I got a song out of it?!” situations. Recording and showing that song to friends and seeing their response definitely gave me a boost in terms of feeling I was making headway as a writer.
Another funny lil anecdote about that song “Hello, Milwaukee” is where the arrangement came from. Me and some folks I know were playing guitar and fiddle around a backyard fire in my neighborhood in Milwaukee many many years ago and they started playing the Paul Simon song “Duncan.” I had never heard the song before and just sat there listening to them play it. The party continued on as usual throughout the night and morning. The next day I couldn’t remember how it went, but it left this tune in my head that I thought might be sorta-kinda it. But I never went back and listened to the actual original “Duncan” song. So I made up an arrangement. Soon after, on that fateful, awful, month-long tour I just spoke about, I fleshed out the lyrics to my own “pseudo-Duncan” song. Thank God when I finally went back to listen to the original Paul Simon song, it was nothing alike. Ha! That was a big relief.
Sarah: Mary Oliver said, “Attention is the beginning of devotion,” and in your lyrics, it’s clear you’ve paid deep attention to the places and people that have shaped you. This form of devotion shines bright on the beautiful “A Northwoods Waltz.” Can you tell us about that song?
Joseph: That song was inspired by a night we played a show at one of our favorite places to play called Malarkey’s in Wausau. Sadly, this song was inspired by another rough relationship experience, but I think that just may be an obvious thing when it comes to songs in general. Yet another night where the revelry that was slowly building throughout the evening leading up to playing a show was met by my own interior world simply not matching up with that revelry.
Sarah: Ah—that disconnect between what is occurring out there and the internal experience—to me, that sense of alienation leads to … oh maybe 70% of the songs I write, in some way.
Joseph: I’ve always been proud of how this song turned out and specifically a few key elements. One being how the lyrics of the chorus lead into each refrain of “Lie lie la lie.” In the first chorus, I’m describing the drunken crowd trying to sing along and not knowing the words and therefore singing along with “Lie lie la lie.” In the second chorus, I’m describing the angels and saints singing in some ancient foreign tongue we can’t understand, and so it sounds like “Lie lie la lie.” I’ve always enjoyed that juxtaposition because in my musical world, the drunken, fun-loving, dancing fans who aren’t afraid to act a fool and sing along even if they don’t know the lyrics … those folks are like angels and saints to the performer.
Despite the song being sad, I feel like the final verse ends the song on a sense of hope to the still unknown future. It’s morning again, and walking down the sidewalk, the lyrics state, “Now the slants and the cracks in the walk, how they dance and they talk as I take to a tune. I don’t know just where I’m going, but I’ll be going soon.” It’s a hopeful and also rather fun tongue-twister to end such a heavy song on.
Joseph Huber. Photo courtesy of the artist.
Sarah: Here’s to those who choose to sing along, even when they don’t know the words. Absolutely.
Your most recent release is a live album, Blasthouse Sessions, which includes “When I Was You and You Were Me”—a song from your 2022 studio album The Downtowner. Drawing the listener in with an extended instrumental intro, you break into: “When I saw you out with another man I was livid, Lord I was livid” (delivered with the CATCHIEST of phrasings). Can you tell us about that song?
Joseph: I wrote and finished and recorded that song during the final phases of mixing and mastering the Moondog album, and almost added it to that album last minute. I’m very, very glad I didn’t because, frankly, The Downtowner needed it and could have actually been mostly “a downer” album without it. Ha!
That first stark line is actually not true in any autobiographical cheating scenario sense, but in the jealousy sense. It was meant to be a real angular, jutting sorta line that would grab the listener’s attention, so I guess in that sense it did work. It’s one of the two songs from The Downtowner that actually made it into our regular live show rotation, because it really just is a danceable ripper of a song, and that’s mostly what it was meant to be. Lyrically, I think I wrote it in a day, and boy, it’s been a while since that happened, but again with a song like that, as much as I like the lyrics, they come in second place a little bit when it comes to the real fast fiddle-driven songs of mine. For those, it’s the fiddle-hook that catches your feet. In many ways, what the Joseph Huber Band has become is a live band experience, and with that in mind, the flow of the show is paramount.
Songwriter songs are the ones that strike your emotional core and stick with a person. After a show, someone will ask, “What was that song …?” about the heartfelt ones. But also, what gives those songs strength in a live set is positioning them in a place where they work. You need the fun, fast, rowdy, lively, etc. songs to build before the emotional swell of a “songwriter song.” Or I should say it’s both ways: for some folks, you need to impress them emotionally/intellectually before they let loose in a fun one; others, you need to impress them in a fun way, before they take your emotional side seriously. As much as “When I Was You And You Were Me” isn’t a “songwriter song,” it plays an important role in the live set in that it gets the feet moving or at least the toes tapping, which then sets the listener up for another kind of emotional openness.
Sarah: Speaking of your captivating live set—do you have any upcoming Midwest shows where we might be able to take in these songs, and perhaps sing along a little “Lie lie la lie”?
Joseph: Yes. The season is slowing down exponentially, but there are still some in the works and some on the books. We obviously have the Minneapolis gig on Nov. 22, and our bud Joe Wais from the Milbillies will be joining us for that show, so that will be special also. Then on Dec. 5 and 6, in both Appleton, WI, and our hometown of Milwaukee, WI, we’ll be joining our friends in The Driveway Thriftdwellers for their album-release shows. Finally, we’re jumping into the new year with Horseshoes & Hand Grenades on NYE in Stevens Point, and that one is certainly going to be a ripper and have a lot of great acts on it. So if anyone is anywhere near, these are all great ones to come on out to.
Sarah: Sounds like a fantastic end to your musical 2025! And I’m so glad to hear that Minneapolis is included on that list. Thank you so much for stopping by to talk about that song, Joseph.
Be sure to get your tickets to check out the Joseph Huber Band at Amerigrass! Hosted by Maygen & The Birdwatcher, the one-night festival brings several of the region’s best bands to The Hook and Ladder Theater & Lounge. This year also features Turn Turn Turn and The Penny Peaches! Doors are at 6:30pm and the music starts at 7.
Listen to “When I Was You And You Were Me”
Blasthouse Sessions Album Credits
Kenny Leiser on fiddle, electric guitar, backup vocals and mixing; Eston Bennett on upright bass, backing vocals; Joseph Huber on acoustic guitar, harmonica, percussion, vocals and mixing. Recorded by Landon Arkens at Blasthouse Studios in Madison, WI.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Sarah Morris. Photo credit: Tom Smouse.
Sarah Morris is a superfan of songs and the people who write them, and a believer that certain songs can change your life. A singer-songwriter / mama / bread maker / coffee drinker who recently released her fifth album of original material, she’s been known to joyfully sing with people in her Big Green Bathroom.
