Interview: Lyman Ellerman navigates perilous emotional waters on ‘I Wish I Was a Train’

The opioid epidemic has wrapped its gnarled, wart-infested hands around this country. The CDC reported earlier this year that more than 63,000 people died from overdoses in 2016, indicating an increase across all demographics. It’s a staggering reality that goes far beyond statistics, hitting home for most Americans. Someone, somewhere has a friend of a friend who has either dealt with the tragedy first-hand or known someone who has. Addiction is ruthless and violent and strikes without regard to financial status or cultural makeup. It only begets more suffering for its survivors, those who manage to wriggle away from its grasp.

And boy, Lyman Ellerman knows a thing or two about all of that. The Americana tunesmith untangles those feelings with “The Addict,” from his new album I Wish I Was a Train (out now), a ballad inspired by the death of his son, who succumbed to his own demons late last year. “The absence of my fear, you try to so hard to understand,” Ellerman sings, making a bold creative choice to write and perform from the first-person perspective, slipping into his son’s shoes for a tear-jerking and haunting performance. It cuts deeper than the listener might be equipped to handle, but such a topic rarely is easy to swallow. “I think [writing in first person] was the clearest way to really give an inside view of what an addict struggles with and what they feel like. We’ve all got our opinions on addicts, and a lot of the time, we like to couple them in with what we call the “losers of the world,'” Ellerman tells B-Sides & Badlands over a recent call. “As it turns out, that’s not necessarily the case, especially with younger people.”

Admittedly, he did things and made decisions he’s not necessarily proud of in his youth. “I had gotten into a lot of stuff I had no business being involved in. I was fortunate enough not to step off into that land mine. Some young people aren’t doing this on purpose,” he says. “The opioids is a crisis in and of itself. Some of these people are basically victims. They get involved in something that they’re not strong enough to handle on their own. They’re still crying for help. We have to be able to read the language they’re speaking. When you’re in the grip of that world, it can be twisted.”

Ellerman began writing “The Addict” in early 2017, drawing upon what was unfolding right there in front of him. The song was finished and polished later that summer when his son had gotten clean again. “I would never have even released. He had overdosed in early July last year, and he recovered. That’s when I played the song for him,” he says. “He thought that it could help somebody. Once we had that clarification from him, we knew we were going to release the song and music video. But after we lost Riley, then it became a lot more important to us to try to draw some attention to that plight. I hope the song does well, but the whole purpose of the song to begin with was to bring some light to the problem ⎯⎯ to not only help addicts but help the people that have to deal with that, to help them find their way through that.”

Through ShatterProof out of New York, Ellerman is raising awareness and funds to go to recovery from addiction. 50 percent of proceeds from the sale of “The Addict” will go to the campaign. “Shatterproof is changing the conversation about addiction. They are saving lives by helping pass laws that prevent more of our loved ones from becoming addicted to prescription opioids and supporting first responders who can rescue those who overdose,” he writes on the support page.

Elsewhere on the new record, Ellerman wrestles other facets of his trauma, which runs down to his blood and bone. He sends up the title song “I Wish I Was a Train” as a prayer, an earnest wish that he could have avoided the pummeling of pain he has endured throughout his life. “I’ve got a family, and within the last 12 years or so, I’ve lost a mother, a brother, a best friend, several other friends and my son this past fall. I’m not going to say we were expecting the loss of our son, but we knew that we were in perilous territory with him,” he says. “A lot of these songs [on the album] I’m sure came out of that struggle. I’ve been through a lot of things in my life, but losing one of your kids is indescribable, really. You can’t avoid some of those things, and there again, you have to find your own way through that. You can’t dodge it. The writing is a way for me to survive all that and release it.”

In puffs of smoke, from the driving march of “Ditches” to “One More Drink,” an inspection of another kind of teetering addiction, I Wish I Was a Train cobbles brokenness in a full array. It doesn’t skirt the truth for the sake of sensitivity or ego. It’s brazen approach hammers home the themes of devastation, redemption and acceptance. Ellerman wears his journey like a badge of honor, planting his feet and staring down the regret, the anguish, the what-could-have-beens into dust.

Below, Ellerman discusses spirituality, today’s chaos, his wife and working with Jason Morgan again.

Was there a moment when you realized your new record was going into such a dark place?

Yeah, I think from the get go, really. I had a couple of those songs finished up a few years ago, not recorded but written. When we decided we were going to do a complete record, it just followed suite. We knew what we were getting into.

How did the older songs fit together with the newer ones in what you wanted this album to be?

The oldest song is “I Wish I Was a Train,” which I had written out on the road probably seven or eight years ago. I had done a demo on the song here in Nashville but was never really happy with it. Consequently, I never did anything with the song. I had always wanted to have it on a record, but the two previous records just didn’t really lend themselves to that kind of message. When I started these other songs within the last couple years, we knew right away that the “Train” song was going to work with this record.

Previously, you had toyed with naming the record after another song called “Bigger Plans.” Why did you change it to “I Wish I Was a Train”?

It was the way that it fit within the rest of the record. I liked the idea of “Bigger Plans” as the record, but as I studied a little harder, the rest of the songs didn’t really seem to fit under the umbrella of that title, of “Bigger Plans.” It felt like it did fit under “I Wish I Was a Train.” Of course, I don’t think people would get that right off until they got into the songs. When you know what “I Wish I Was a Train” is about, then everything else falls into place. It wasn’t at the last minute, but it was certainly within the last 30 days that we changed the name of the record.

Musically, all the songs fit together quite well, even “Because of You,” which is jazz-influenced. How did you approach the production of this record?

There are a couple songs on there that maybe standout as a little bit different, production-wise. “Because of You” is one of them. But certainly, our intent was for there to be a cohesive sound to the record. We didn’t want everything to sound exactly alike, either. Within those parameters, we tried to make a record that was tied together, sonically. As far as the lyrical content, sometimes, we stepped out of bounds a little bit. Overall, it all works out well together.

With “Bigger Plans,” you’ve briefly mentioned before how this one is spiritual for you. How so?

Well, it’s really just my ideology. I believe that the path a large portion of the world is on seems like it’s hellbent for destruction. Society is coming unwound at the seams. You just have to wonder if there is a bigger picture at work. We get so caught up in everything that we’re doing that sometimes we miss the bigger plan. We’re busy doing things that we think are going to be great, and we might have missed something. There are a lot of dark forces at work, and we tend to have the mentality that we’ll just party that away and act like it’s not there.

“One More Drink” has one of the standout lyrics of the whole album: “You’re barely aware you’re still living.” What is the backstory of this song?

Sometimes, I start songs, and I can’t really say why. Alcohol is something I have battled with myself, not so much as being addicted but overdoing it and then having to make a decision to get it under control. This song is about the awareness of the people that have thrown away their lives ⎯⎯ and some have even lost their lives to overindulgence and the things that it can cost you. I like that line, too. People can get to the point, especially with alcohol, where it can compound your problems, and you’re not aware. You’re using it for medicinal purposes, but it really is working in the opposite direction. That gets lost. You’re feeding your demon at that point.

“Stranger” has some of your most vivid imagery painting, almost otherworldly, including moments like “dark riders with fire in their eyes.” What is happening in this song, exactly?

It’s kind of like “Bigger Plans.” The reference would be to Jesus coming, His return as an executioner and a savior. It ties into how we need to treat people, in general. You really never know who you’re talking to. What I was really try to say in this song was that we need to assume that everybody we talk to is deserving of our respect and appreciation and be a little more thankful for things. The dark rider with fire in his eyes is from Bible prophecy in Revelation when it talks about the riders and everything they’re capable of. I tried to put myself in that scene if that were to happen. We shouldn’t turn folks away. If we can lend a hand, we oughta do it, even if it’s a stranger.

That’s certainly a timely message with all the chaos going on right now.

Yes, indeed. The world is a mess. I used to tell my kids that the world is a scary place to live. But there’s no other place to go.

“Shining on Elizabeth” is certainly a lighter moment on the record. You sing, “You showed me love I had never know.” This song is about your wife. What led you to write this as a tribute to her?

Just love. I had been married before, and I was raising a couple kids on my own. I was pretty happy and wasn’t looking for a relationship at the time. But I met my current wife. We’ve been married for quite awhile now. Sometimes, when you finally find some happiness in yourself, you’re a lot more able to offer something to somebody else. That was really the case. The reference in that line was that’s the truth. She showed me something I had never known before. That’s nothing short of complete and total love, confidence and trust in another human being. There’s another song I had written several years ago, and I had done a demo on that, as a well. It just didn’t work. We felt like we needed a couple things on this record that weren’t totally dark. It was great on this one. When we were cutting it, I hadn’t told my wife that we were going to cut it. I didn’t rewrite the lyric, but we did rewrite pretty much all of the melody and the parts to give it a life. When we were out at the studio one night after it was complete, we played it for her. That was a bonus. I scored points on that. [laughs]

I imagine she was pretty touched you recorded it.

She was. She immediately started crying and carrying on.

In working with producer Jason Morgan, who you’ve known and worked with for a number of years, how has your working relationship with him changed? Was the process much different for this record?

Yes. The first project we did was in 2011 and then another in 2015. We worked on this new record for a year. The difference with each of those records, sonically, is they have made leaps and bounds. We recorded them at my home studio and Jason’s studio. They’ve improved. More importantly, on this one, I was more comfortable with allowing Jason to have a lot more input as a producer than in the past. When you find someone you’re compatible with in that kind of relationship, you want to feel confident in the person that you’re sharing that responsibility with. So, because of the progression of time and trust, we reached a plateau where we could muscle our way through whatever we needed to for the better of the song. There is actually less production on the record, but it sounds like there’s more. We got it right. Not that the previous two sucked or anything. They were good records. [laughs] I think if you had an opportunity to hear the two prior, you would notice the difference pretty easily on this one. That’s nothing more than that the relationship had matured. He’s an incredibly talented individual. You can count on it. That’s what it’s about.

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