Songs from an American Movie Vol. One: Learning How to Smile, the highest-charting record from ’90s alt-rock legends Everclear, wasn’t even intended for release under their name. It was originally conceived as a solo album by frontman Art Alexalis after the success of the band’s 1997 landmark, So Much for the Afterglow.
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“The original [version] was much less bombastic, much less rock. It had more loops and, like, R&B kind of funk to it,” notes Alexakis, speaking to SPIN about the project’s long-overdue vinyl reissue. “At the time, I was listening to Missy Elliot and Timbaland. I wanted to do something like that. I wanted Timbaland to produce my solo record, but I never reached out to him.”
We then informed him that Timbaland did, in fact, produce an alt-rock LP—Chris Cornell’s disastrous 2009 solo effort Scream—and that Art may have dodged a bullet with that one.
After establishing Everclear’s rock radio credentials with their signature song “Santa Monica” in 1995, So Much for the Afterglow brought Everclear close to mainstream success, with hits like “I Will Buy You a New Life” and the visceral “Father of Mine” establishing Art’s emotional brand of songwriting to be as memorable as it was catchy.
Art’s life has been filled with unspeakable tragedy, but he managed to find a way to turn his experiences into tunes that expressed universal sentiments. Even after disclosing his multiple sclerosis diagnosis in 2019, he still plays live, even mentioning during our chat his tour plans for the upcoming 30th anniversary of breakthrough full-length Sparkle and Fade.
“Wonderful,” the lead single from Learning How to Smile, expressed a child’s point of view during their parents’ difficult divorce, and the mid-tempo number ended up as the band’s largest crossover success, peaking at No. 11 on the Billboard Hot 100. Songs from an American Movie was designed as a “divorce” project, with the more pop-centric Vol. One detailing the start of a relationship, while the angrier Vol. Two: Good Time for a Bad Attitude (released the same year) bleeding out the details after the breakup. Unfortunately, Vol. Two underperformed commercially, only reaching No. 66.
Speaking with SPIN, Art details all the things that lead up to the creation of “Wonderful,” from the concept to the self-directed music video to the way he relates to it now over two decades later.
The Songs From an American Movie Divide
I made the solo record, and I gave it to management, and, you know, I still needed some work on it. I give it to the label. Three days later, unbeknownst to me, they had given it to the guys in the band, Craig and Greg, and they all showed up at my house unannounced, to convince me to make this an Everclear record. I’m like, “Well, if we’re gonna make an Everclear record then I want it to be a double album. I want to do some heavy songs.” I wanted [there] to be a juxtaposition, like soft song, heavy song, pop song, art song—you know, stuff like that. They agreed, [and] the label agreed and gave me more of a budget to finish the record, and everything was cool.
Then my manager at the time convinced me—and I own my part of it, too—not to make it a double album but to make it two albums. Because then we would’ve been done with our contracted albums for both the label and on publishing and we could renegotiate more money. ‘Cause that’s the way managers think. Not a bad idea, businesswise, but not what I wanted to do and not what I should have done ‘cause the two-album thing really never worked for anybody. I mean, it kind of worked for Use Your Illusion, but not really, you know?
Realizing That With “Father of Mine,” He Could Make Hits out of Catharsis
I didn’t know if “Father of Mine” was going to be on the record. I didn’t know if it was going to be a single or not. I turned [So Much for the Afterglow] in June of ’97. At that point, I had been sober. I’ve been sober and in meetings. So I was pretty able and comfortable with being expository about my own personal stuff if I thought that it talked about a universal theme and it connected with other people.
I remember when I had written the song and I played it for a couple of people. I was in L.A., and I stopped by Capitol to see my A&R guy. I had a very strong and ironclad rule: “No demos. I don’t pitch you any songs. I don’t ask. I give you an album, you fucking put it out. That’s how it goes.” Which is really kind of a dick move, if you think about it in hindsight. But, you know, I was young. I just didn’t wanna fall into that trap of like, “All these people who weren’t songwriters telling me, ‘No, I don’t hear a single.’” I didn’t wanna get into that kind of trope. I had grown up in L.A. and seen a lot of my friends in bands go down that road with major labels.
So I show up and I’m sitting in his office and his door’s open, and it’s the round building; it’s Capitol, right? So everybody who’s got an office, their secretary or assistant is right outside. And so we’re talking, and he is like, “How’s the songs coming?” I go, “Pretty strong.” I go, “There’s a song I wrote about my dad and about, you know, parental abandonment. I think it’s a pretty good song.” He goes, “Well, I’d love to hear it sometime.” He’s being very tentative, right?
He’s got a guitar in his office. I’m like, “Well, you want me to play a little bit of it?” It’s like, “Sure, okay.” He is trying not to be too excited. I pick up the guitar, and I just play the whole song, you know? And at the end of it, I put the guitar down and I look at him, and he’s like, very stoic. You know, he’s a Brit; he’s landed gentry. Perry Watts-Russell. He’s a pretty cool dude, but he is very stoic. But I could see behind his glasses. He’s got two kids at this point. I can see that he’s misting up. And then all of a sudden, we hear, like, this really weird, almost like cat sounds coming from outside. And we walk out the door to where his assistant was. And her and about three other girls who were assistants were all sitting on her desk, hugging each other, just bawling, weeping.
Perry walks out and he looks at me and goes, “Well, it’s definitely going on the record.”
Art Alexakis’ Three Flavors of Songwriting
You know, that and “I Will Buy You a New Life” are both more autobiographical songs. But to be honest with you, before that, the singles hadn’t been autobiographical. “Santa Monica” wasn’t autobiographical. I write songs in three ways, pretty much. Lyrically, I write some autobiographical songs where I tell stories: “I Will Buy You a New Life”—a few other songs are there. Then, there’s songs [where] I take things from my life and from other people’s lives and things I might read about. I use artistic license, and I create characters and scenarios, right? And a lot of people think all my songs are autobiographical ’cause I like to write from the first person. I like storytelling. I like people that put the identity of that character into the song. So you’re hearing this running dialogue of something that’s happened—that’s exciting to me.
And then the other third of the songs are just songs that I just make up. But “Santa Monica” and “Wonderful” are more in that second because it’s talking about my daughter, but it’s also taking stuff from when I was a kid and stuff from other people. I created the character of that kid. It’s not really me, not really my daughter. But at the same time, my eldest daughter—when that song came out in 2000, she just turned 8. I was going through a divorce with her mom, which was devastating for her. I don’t even know if she’s still over it now. You know, there’s still a lot of resentment there, and I get it. I understand it.
But, you know, part of it was me; part of it was a guy in the band that was going through stuff like that with his dad. A friend of mine was going through a divorce. His wife left him for a friend of his and fought him in court and tried to take his kids away from him. All that stuff was going on. And that’s where “Wonderful” came from.
How Spontaneous Sessions for “Wonderful” Compared to “Santa Monica”
I wrote those lyrics [for “Wonderful”] on a plane from Portland to L.A. I had the music, but I was going down different ways lyrically. Before I left, I had gotten into it with my ex-wife and just watched my daughter having to deal with that. And boom, it just unlocked and came outta me. I went right to the studio, didn’t even go to my hotel, [and] sang it two takes. Most of it’s one take, and that’s rare.
I usually agonize over songs. It’s hard to recreate that. It’s like when we did “Santa Monica”: I recorded it, but my A&R guy, Perry, insisted that it wasn’t done yet. We got into a screaming match over the phone, and I think the f-word was used profusely on both sides. Even the word “cocksucker” might have come up. [Laughs] And it’s like, “Alright, you know what? Fuck you, Perry. I’ll do it, but I’m gonna write a song just for you, and it’s called, ‘You Make Me Feel Like a Whore.’ I just came up with that on the spot—but it gave me the idea to write a song. It came out pretty good, and I think that was our last single on that album.
That Long-Lost “Wonderful” B-Side and American Movie Quirks
[Both the U.S. and U.K. CD single versions of “Wonderful” came backed with a “Father of Mine” remix and the rare power-pop-indebted B-side “I’m on Your Time.”] It didn’t feel right for either album, actually. It’s still one of my favorite songs. What’s really cool about that song is that when I was doing the solo record, I got to step outside and do some things that work with a full orchestra, like on “Annabella’s Song.” In the Capitol Studios, I was in the booth where Frank Sinatra used to sing … and apparently used to do a lot of other things too. But I got the Tower of Power horn section to play on that song and on “Here We Go Again”—the first song on Songs from an American Movie, Volume One. I think I wrote it during the So Much for the Afterglow period.
But it didn’t fit that album either. You know, this song would’ve fit the solo record. Even though it’s got big guitars and it’s got the old-school synths—like ’70s-sounding synths, which I love—it’s a power-pop song. It just didn’t make the record. If you do a little deep dive on YouTube, you’ll find the original version of “Otis Redding,” which was written for So Much for the Afterglow, but I didn’t put it on the record. The label was mad because they wanted that song on the record. I even got a call from the president of the label. It’s like, “Put the fucking song on the record.” I go, “Kiss my ass, Gary. Have a nice day.” [Laughs]
A Fictional Scenario Covers Up Real-Life Pains
My eldest daughter, even in her 20s, when we were in therapy together, she was like, “There’s a part of me that still wants you and mom to get back together.” I go, “We’d be horrible. We were horrible together.” And she goes, “I know, I know.” I get it. It’s hard for that little 6-year-old in you, that 8-year-old in you. When I wrote “Father of Mine,” I had been through therapy for abandonment and different issues that I think helped contribute to my alcoholism and addiction. I went through a lot of different, intense therapies. One of those therapies was like becoming the parent to that little boy inside you that felt abandoned and loving on that boy and being able to be there for him.
I’d bring that back in another song called “You,” which talks about my sexual abuse. That’s on [2015’s] Black Is the New Black. But yeah, I thank you for asking about “Wonderful.” It’s actually making me kind of emotional to think about it. That was a great time because I felt very empowered and could do anything in the zone creatively, but at the same time, emotionally, I was pretty damaged. And you can hear it.
That Emotional, Angelic Music Video
So we did the pastiche or whatever you wanna call it [at both the start of the song and music video] of [people saying] “It’s wonderful. Wonderful.” That voice right there is my old touring guitar player, Davey Loprinzi, who can do any voice, anything. My daughter’s voice is in there, and one of her friend’s voices is in there. My ex-wife, her stepmom, is in there, and she’s actually in the video. I directed that video, and I’m like, “We just want people’s mouths. I want different faces and mouths.” But the actual mouth at the end where it goes, “Isn’t everything wonderful now?”—that’s my ex-wife [back] when we were engaged. But she’s in the video. She’s the angel with the dark hair. There’s an angel with short hair, an angel with short blonde hair.
It’s one of the lines of the song: “I dream of angels who make me smile.” The little white girl is in front of this beautiful house over in Hancock Park in L.A., and her mom is an actress that we hired. The dad was my sound guy at the time. But you can see them arguing over the table. There’s one shot where they run to her and she’s out outside, and they’re both trying to comfort her, and you can see them then. But it’s kinda like Charlie Brown: I try to keep the adults out of it.
Is Everything Wonderful Now? Singing a 2000s Hit in the 2020s
Even though my youngest daughter doesn’t have that damage because me and her mom are very strong and loving, she still got issues, you know? She still has anxiety and depression genetically. I think she got it from me and her mom and ADHD and all that stuff, especially after COVID. Adolescents had a hard time during COVID. But now I look at what she’s going through and “Wonderful” and other songs like “Pale Green Stars”—I look at it from a different point of view. Another song I do that a lot with is “I Will Buy You a New Life” because I wrote that three wives ago. [Laughs] As far as “Wonderful” goes, it feels to me like a song that’s kind of timeless, you know? It’s like no matter who you are, where you come from, what your ethnic background is, what your gender belief is, what your ethnicity or financial/economic stature is, that experience is gonna happen to people regardless of anything. ’cause it’s just a human thing.
When I went in to record it, I didn’t know it was gonna be a big hit. I just knew it was gonna be a good song. That’s all I cared about.
“Finally, You’re Gonna Write a Song About Being Happy”
So I was working with this guy, Lars Fox, who was an old friend of mine. He is a friend that I would bounce stuff off of. I gave him a list of song titles that we’re working on, and he was going through and saying, “Play some of that, play some of that.” And he looks down, and he goes, “Fucking, finally: ‘Wonderful.’ Finally, you’re gonna write a song about being happy.” I go, “Have we met? Really?” And he goes, “Well, play me some of it.” And I played him like the first and second verse and the chorus. And, and he just goes, “It’s a great song … and fuck you,” and the walks out of the door. Because it’s not a happy song.
I think there’s light at the end of the tunnel. I think all my songs have light at the end of the tunnel, but sometimes you gotta squint to see it, you know?
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