Q&A: Keith McCurdy of Vudu Sister
The frontman for the gothic folk band — and sometimes solo acoustic act — reflects on thirteen years in the music scene.
How did you first get into the local music scene?
I have been performing my own material on stage in front of audiences at clubs for over twenty years. I’ve been in and out of bands. I started like anyone else. My father was a bass player. I was into alternative music and post-punk. I was listening to Nirvana and Soundgarden at an early age. I didn’t start playing in bands until I was in my mid-teens. Vudu Sister has been a thing for thirteen years. It was during the late 2000s, early 2010s, when there was a revival of Americana music. I used to go to Tazza Cafe. There was a great open mic night, and that was the first time I started to connect with other musicians. I had been writing seriously for ten or eleven years at the time. It took that long for me to record my album.
Do you most identify with gothic folk?
That’s how we describe it currently because it’s acoustic. I grew up on heavy, aggressive music. But this is what happens: You form a band. You write some songs with a band collaboratively, you fall in love with the music, and then the band breaks up. Then you have to start from scratch. I finally decided I needed to start a project where I can be self-reliant. The idea is to always try to have a band, but I can always play alone. I grew up with “MTV Unplugged.” I love seeing heavy bands be able to strip down and still rock with acoustic instruments. I like the gothic aspect, and I like exploring macabre themes. I like exploring things that are dark but also whimsical in nature, like a Tim Burton kind of thing, or Edgar Allan Poe or Lovecraft.
And what better city than Providence, because there are so many references to Lovecraft.
When I was overseas and people asked me where I was from, a lot of people knew who Lovecraft is. I don’t think we take advantage of how weird and gothic Providence can be. NecronomiCon, the Lovecraft festival [which usually happens in August] was always a thing for me. I was so happy Niels [Hobbs] asked us to play it, because I was proven right.
How did your European tour come about? You went to Spain, Italy and France?
I did fifteen shows in eleven different cities and towns. I have been dreaming of going to Europe my whole life, but I didn’t start going until my father passed. Last year, I played one show in Paris. I met a girl in Paris after my show who had found my music online, singer/songwriter Lisa Hartmann. She booked our shows together for this tour. It was a very DIY tour, but thanks to friends who are musicians and fans, they helped me pick up a show here and a show there.
Now you’re doing music full time. What were you doing before?
I went back to school, got my degree. I studied classics and English and I graduated summa cum laude. I would tell people I was going to be a professor, but I didn’t want to be a teacher. My first inclination when I started studying Latin and Greek was I’m going to write songs in this. I didn’t feel like I could tell people I’m a musician. In order to do music, I was working sixty hours a week at a group home and it was very hard. It takes a toll on your psyche. I was working with adult men who were very aggressive with behavioral disabilities. I fell into that work while I’ve been a musician most of my life. I was always like how can I make music a full-time job? You can’t make enough money. I recently quit that job. Luckily, I fell into a routine where I am now booking shows. They may not be the most artistically fulfilling shows, but they respect me and they pay us enough so we can do this full time. I’ll go to Vermont, New York, Connecticut and Massachusetts and play at bars and breweries. There are shows I do for growth and there are shows I do to make ends meet, and that’s fine.
I know a year or two ago, you celebrated your tenth anniversary for Bastard Children. Are you most proud of that album?
I am always most proud of my most recent work. I am proud of everything I’ve done, but it would be dangerous for me to feel like I’ve already done my best work. I think as an artist, you should always feel like you haven’t done your best work. That’s why you should always keep writing and keep creating. You might have a small percentage that might be good, and within that small percentage, you might actually touch brilliance.
Is there someone in your band you want to mention?
Diane O’Connor has been my co-pilot on this project for the last thirteen years. She’s a violinist and she’s one of my best friends. We’ve had breaks where she’s done other things and I have done other things. Most recently, I’m proud to work with this cellist, Isabel Castellvi, who is fairly new to Providence. She’s originally from Las Vegas. She was in New York City for a long time. She is great. We’ve been writing new songs for a new album.
I like that there are a lot of women involved in your group.
The “Sister” part is important. I don’t really love the Vudu part. I am at a point where I’ve released four albums, and I can’t change the name. I like exploring feminine perspectives in my work. Our last album, Burnt Offerings, was our Latin and Greek album, and every song I sing as a character that’s from classical myth and they are all women. I think that surprises people. I call it creative androgyny. It’s a place where you can feel free to express things in the most unbridled way. I encapsulate a sort of androgyny or femininity. That’s why it’s “Sister,” capital S.
What is your family’s background?
I am part Romani. My father was Romani and Sicilian. You wouldn’t know it to look at me. Our family made its living by traveling to fairs. My mom made brass jewelry and sold it at fairs. We would pack up on weekends and travel to towns all over New England. It’s a very familiar feeling to pack up my stuff and go to another town and do my thing. The troubadour life is very comfortable for me. I grew up here, but I don’t have roots here. My mom is from France and my father is from New York state, and half of his family is from Sicily. His father was a blacktopper, who grew up in a vardo, a wagon, and my dad grew up in a trailer. They did paving, and his aunt, and his father’s sisters did fortune telling. The palmistry, the cards, they taught it to my grandmother. My mother is a very French, artistic and eccentric person. I come from a family with a colorful history.
How has AS220 helped you with your music career?
I could not afford to live the way I live and do what I do elsewhere. The rents are obscene. AS220 has been a great facilitator for the working artist to be able to survive and thrive. I have been performing at AS220 since I was twenty years old. I have been living there for ten years. Getting accepted for an apartment there was such a big deal for me. I pay rent but I get a huge break, because I qualify. It’s very unique. Not a lot of cities have this.
You’re working on a new album? Tell me about that?
We are working on a fifth album. I’ve been listening to a lot of new music that I wasn’t otherwise exposed to. I’ve been intrigued by Emma Ruth Rundell. They call her gothic folk. She’s worked with metal bands. It’s dark music but it’s melodically lush stuff. She inspired me to pick up a baritone and explore lower tunings with the cello and try to go for a bassy deep dark sound. We’re finishing up writing and developing these songs. It’s highly collaborative. It will be out sometime in 2024.
It seems like you collaborate often.
Yes and no. Often I’ll be bearing the brunt of the writing, which I don’t love. I think there’s a myth of genius about people who don’t want to share the duties of the writing process. I think you do the best work when you collaborate with people. It doesn’t take away from your talent. Shakespeare collaborated. It opens up synapses and doors that you wouldn’t otherwise have known were there when you collaborate with other people, especially when there is chemistry. I feel like there’s great chemistry between Diane, Isabel and I. The two of them together is a joy to watch.