The Easygoing Patriot

What is the central question in "For Everyman"?
Where are we going? "Everybody I talk to is ready to leave/With the light of morning." Specifically, it's about people engaging in some alternate lifestyle, in search of a utopian existence. I had these examples around me. David Crosby had these friends, and they had three boats — it was like the Niña, the Pinta and the Santa Maria of the hippie navy. They had this idea, to sail off and find utopia. But the question was, can you do that? Where is it?

There's an example on the new album, "Far From the Arms of Hunger." I had this line, and I couldn't figure it out: Far from where? Far from who? It was a way of describing the way I would like the world to be. Who is out of the reach of hunger or war? Nobody, either from the effects of it or the responsibility. If there is such a place, that's where we belong.

In a way, you were Bob Dylan in reverse. He became famous as a protest singer, then turned to more personal, enigmatic expression. You became a star by writing about emotional issues, then turned to current events and the fate of the nation.
Bob Dylan's political period was a complete influence on me. But one of his greatest songs in that period is "To Ramona" [on 1964's Another Side of Bob Dylan]. He's singing to a black woman: "Your cracked country lips/I still wish to kiss." In the context of that maelstrom of political activity, he has this moving, personal thing to say to this woman. Even "Song to Woody" [on 1962's Bob Dylan] — it was a Woody Guthrie melody, from a song about a massacre of unionists ["1913 Massacre"]. He's singing a very personal song to Woody Guthrie, but he does not negate or leave the political behind. That is more like what I've been doing the whole time. For every song I had about love and utopia, I had "For Everyman," which talked about whether or not you could actually do that. It was a political discussion. I assumed everyone was already paying attention to that.

Did you start writing specifically topical songs, such as "Lawyers in Love" and "Lives in the Balance," because you thought the political discussion in music had stopped?
No. "Lawyers in Love" is a prime example of me thinking everybody's on the same page [laughs]. I was writing a satirical song about Republicans and the upwardly mobile, who thought this evil empire, communism, was just going to disappear. I thought everyone would appreciate the satire. In fact, people in my own band were going, "Uh, what's this song about?" I'd tell them. "Really?"

I don't want to be preached to, either. But these songs I started to write reflected what I found out in my reading, from speakers I heard. Before I wrote "Lives in the Balance," I had gone to Nicaragua. It was me figuring out how to put that in a song. You realize there are more important things than your career, than having the next hit.

You campaigned for John Edwards last year. Did the news of his extra-marital affair make you question how much faith you can put in a candidate?
Yeah, it does. But I was not drawn to Edwards because he was pure as the driven snow. I thought he was scrappy. I thought his career as a trial lawyer would prepare him for the job of standing up to corporations and defending the middle class. He energized the discussion about poverty. He was the only one of the three [Democratic] candidates that came out against nuclear energy.

Is Obama scrappy enough for you?
He's very tenacious. By the way, I supported Obama before I supported Edwards. And I played at an event for him about a month ago, in San Francisco. But Obama doesn't need rock concerts. He's way above that. There are lots of people doing benefits for him: house parties, bands in local clubs. He is hugely successful in communicating to people, so that they do everything they can to put their shoulders to the wheel, to contribute in some way, without it seeming like, "Does he have the all-important rock vote? Are the superstars behind him?" He's got the thinking, creative populace behind him.