For over 30 years, The Waterboys have been a band in flux, constantly exploring new sonic territory across the globe and mixing different styles to create their own unique sound.Besides the constant presence of sole original member Mike Scott, the band has featured a rotating cast of musicians, some coming from locations like Scotland, Ireland and England.They’ve also called many places their home base.

“I’m the only Waterboy in Dublin and I lived elsewhere from 1991 to 2008,” Scott explains.

With The Waterboys, Scott has dabbled in local styles like folk and Celtic music.But he’s found the most fascination with rock ‘n’ roll, which he’s found creative ways to blend with local sounds.In particular, American-made rock ‘n’ roll has been a constant source of inspiration for him.

“The Waterboys music has always been influenced by American music, right from day one,” says Scott. “I was Americanized by listening to Chuck Berry and Motown in the 60s.”

It makes sense then that the singer-songwriter eventually decided to travel to the US to record a new Waterboys album.Scott traveled to Nashville and assembled a band featuring American musicians to record the band’s 13th album Modern Blues.The band he assembled (and who will be touring with him through May 24), includes famed bassist David Hood from nearby Muscle Shoals.Hood is best known for playing on Aretha Franklin’s “Respect” and also being the father of Drive-By Truckers’ front man Patterson Hood.

The album is yet another twist in the story of The Waterboys, a band and songwriter that don’t play things safe and choose to make music their own way.Scott and his band found their biggest breakthrough in 1988 with Fisherman’s Blues, which remains the group’s highest-charting album in the US.What they may lack in commercial success is made up for the continuing influence the band’s had on musicians including The War on Drugs.We recently spoke with Scott about making the album in Nashville and adding to the band’s legacy which he started in 1983.

Why did you name the album Modern Blues? What does the phrase mean to you in today’s world?

I was looking at the picture I’d chosen for the album cover while listening to one of the tracks, “Rosalind (You Married The Wrong Guy)”, and the phrase “Modern Blues” popped into my mind. I liked its shortness and the way it made a surreal contrast with the cover image. And as all the songs on the album are sung in blues scale, whether they follow traditional blues chords or not, I thought it was a fair usage of the phrase.

A number of American bands have covered The Waterboys. Why do you think about having that kind of influence all these years later, especially of late?

I love when we get covered, especially when it’s by cool bands like the War On Drugs or great stylists like Prince. I think Prince just dug that song [“Whole Of The Moon,” which he performed a year ago in concert] but I can hear a proper Waterboys influence on the War On Drugs, and I’m flattered by that and glad to hear them do their own thing that goes beyond anything they copped from us. That’s the way it should be.

You mentioned recently that folk music and some Irish music were diversions but playing rock-and-roll is central to you. Could you further explain that?Was there a point where that became evident?

I started out in my teens playing an electric guitar and singing rock and roll, and really, with a few breaks, that’s what I’ve done all my life. But because The Waterboys explored and assimilated Celtic folk music for a couple of albums we still get called a folk-rock band. We’re nothing of the kind. We’re a rock and roll band and even when I play acoustic guitar on a song like “Fisherman’s Blues,” the feel and energy is rock, not folk.

In what ways do you think Dublin has changed or stayed the same between now and when you started playing there? Was there widespread openness to experiment musically?

Ah well, I’m not from Dublin and never set foot in the city till I’d been a professional musician for seven years. I’m Scottish and moved to Dublin from London in 1986. I loved Dublin then for its easy-going nature and the sense of musical (and other) creativity everywhere. It’s much the same now. I also liked those older forms of music like country, blues, gospel etc. were openly admired and played in Dublin in a way that wasn’t permitted in the post-punk London scene of the 1980s, when those pre-1976 styles had been seemingly erased from history and memory.

With being in a band with changing home bases/members from different countries and always seeming to be on the move, how do you think that has affected your music identity?Do you think you’re more open to trying new ideas because of that?

Yes, I’m sure that’s so.This band has always had a rolling cast of musicians, so people are forever bringing in new senses, sounds and styles.It keeps the music moving.Not that I’m gonna be standing still anyway.I am at ease in this milieu because my own fascinations and interests keep moving too.

Why do you think you remain comfortable using the Waterboys name considering the changes album to album with sounds, members, etc? What makes it a Waterboys album and not a solo album?

If I had a copy of the first-ever Waterboys press release, I would quote it, but it said words to the effect that this was going to be an ever-changing band with an ever-changing line-up.Exactly the way it turned out.The Waterboys is a cloak of a name which means me and my current musical associates.In the mid 90s I made two solo albums. The first was a genuine solo album in that I was the only person who played on it.And when I toured it I did so as a one-man stage act under the name Mike Scott instead.I liked working under that name for a change, and so made a second record, this time with other players.And for 3 months I toured it with them, which quickly felt wrong.I could tell as I stood on stage that if there are other players it has to be The Waterboys.

When people look for prior examples of artists with Dublin ties getting “American-ized,” they often think of U2 and The Joshua Tree.

To my ears The Joshua Tree is and always was the record U2 made after The Waterboys opened for them on tour and they got to hear our riffs and my lyrics, which appeared to provide some degree of inspiration for the record.

Is there a concern to keep some elements of your roots/home country in the music? How do you balance old and new influences?

I just write my songs and take ’em wherever they want to go, without getting too scientific about what I’m doing. I know that the central influences that made me a musician – rock-and-roll, soul, blues, punk, The Beatles, Dylan, Stones and then later Hank Williams, gospel and Celtic music – will always be in the mix.

A lot of Nashville musicians I’ve talked to have traveled or moved from distinctly different places to record there. They’ve mentioned that there’s a strong community of musicians/writers and that there’s always something going on. What was/is your impression? What was it like co-writing?

I loved being in a place where so much music is being made, and where so many artists and excelling. That makes an inspiring atmosphere to work in, an atmosphere to draw on and contribute to too. For me it was like landing in a musical kaleidoscope, and I loved being able to find great singers and players to do embellishments on the record as required, for example needing a backing vocal, asking the assistant engineer if he could recommend someone, and forty minutes later Vicky Hampton, who tours with Dolly Parton, is in the studio laying down one of the best backing vocals I’ve ever heard. But as regards co-writing…I’m not a co-writer in that traditional Nashville sense of two dudes sitting in a room raising eyebrows at each other and trading chords. I’m a lone wolf, man. I do my songwriting solo, and if you see a co-credit on a song of mine it means one of two things: either I’ve sent the lyric to one of my songwriter friends and they’ve written some or all of the tune, or it’s all my song and the person co-credited has written a central riff, like Nashville-resident guitar man Jay Barclay who wrote the lead guitar riff for “I Can See Elvis,” too major a part of the song for him not to be credited.

Why did you pick Bob Clearmountain to mix the album?

I’d mixed the album myself in Nashville and when I got it home I realized I’d done a bad job. So I fired myself and hired a professional. Clearmountain’s work is brilliant. I listened to his mixes thinking, “Why didn’t I have this guy mix the last eight Waterboys albums?”

You’ve mentioned in interviews that you assembled the band with a goal to get a live performance spirit, similar to how you recorded Fisherman’s Blues. Why was that important? Was it hard process finding the right people?

I love recording that way. I wanted an American sound for these songs, that rhythmic swagger and a sense of drama, of performance. So it had to be played live on the floor by an ensemble, not created by overdubs with everyone there on different days. As for finding the right people, either I got lucky or my bandleader karma is good, one or both of those. I had Steve Wickham (fiddle) and Ralph Salmins (drums) already, both well-seasoned to me and I to them, and I’d met Brother Paul [Brown], our new keyboard player, while doing a radio show in Kentucky in 2012. It was one of those old-time variety shows that still go out, and I was doing it as an acoustic duo with Wickham. The organizer emailed me and said “I have this great keyboard player from Memphis I’d like to play on your songs.” I emailed back: “No, man, we come as a duo.” He wrote back “But this dude is really great, you won’t regret it.”I emailed saying “No, you don’t understand. We want to play as a duo. Thanks but no thanks.” The guy was so persistent. He emailed again and said, “Look, this dude will play for free and he’s learned the songs. You’ll love him.” So I said OK just to make it go away. Then we turned up in Kentucky and this beautiful cat called Paul was waiting to play with us and with his first flourish of gospel-blown organ notes he walked into our hearts and lives: Brother Paul Brown, from Memphis, lives in Nashville, the keyboard player I’ve dreamed of meeting for decades.

How/why did you end up getting bass player David Hood to play?What does he bring to the songs? Were there any interesting bits of advice he provided?

So we still needed a bassist and our manager, Lisa Best, who also manages Dan Penn and so knows that whole Muscle Shoals, vintage southern soul scene, suggested David. He’s one of those guys I’ve heard forever but wouldn’t have thought of asking, because I would have imagined he only plays with people he knows. But we asked and he said yes. He turned up at rehearsals, had learned the songs already from the demos I’d sent him, fitted in straight away and rocked like a beast. He’s not an advice-giving kind of guy. All the pointers are in his playing, which is so great that it subtly organizes everyone else’s playing into a higher realm of order and inspiration.

How do you think the American musicians affect the older material for the live show? Are there any songs in particular that you have enjoyed revisiting and/or better appreciate them in their new form?

They bring that swagger I mentioned, and an authenticity. When Brother Paul and our guitarist Zach [Ernst], who’s from Austin, play southern soul chops, they haven’t learned it from across an ocean, second-hand, they are it; they’re in the stream and tradition of it. And yes, they’ve made some beautiful changes to older songs: a soul feel to “A Girl Called Johnny,” a gospel edge to “Fisherman’s Blues.” And David Hood’s playing on “The Whole Of The Moon” is a thing of wonder, subtly funky and snaky.

How much input did you have selecting opening bands on this tour?

I picked ’em myself with a little help from Lisa Best and Zach.The two main opening acts are The Bluebonnets, a killer all-girl band from Austin led by my pal Kathy Valentine, ex- of the Go-Gos; and Connor Kennedy who’s a terrific rootsy singer and bandleader from Woodstock in that laconic Band-style classical American feel.

A lot of jam bands have an organic way of weaving between different influences. Are there any aspects of jambands that have influenced you?

I love improvising onstage and I like changing around the set lists and doing songs in different ways. I learned shit like that from listening to bootlegs of Dylan, Patti Smith’s 1970s band, Van Morrison and Bruce Springsteen. I also love how bands like The Cream would improvise onstage back in the 60s, pushing the music out into the ethers, beyond the form of the three-minute song.

According to it a recent interview, it sounds like you have a stockpile of song titles that you wait to use for the right song. Could you talk about that?

I always note down good titles or lines. Recently I noted the phrase “a dark blue summer suit” from a book I’m reading. That’s not a title, but it’s what someone in a song should and sometime soon will be wearing. And two weeks ago there was a sports match in Dublin featuring the Irish national team. I saw a dude cruising down the street in a suit with a pattern of hundreds of little shamrocks. That could turn into a song called “The Man In The Shamrock Suit.” I might write it tomorrow or in fifteen years time. I don’t know when the inspiration will hit. I still have song titles up my sleeve I coined decades ago. “November Tale” on the new album, was a title I first thought of the mid 1980s.

How do you think you compare as a songwriter now with when you started? Does it come easier or harder?

It comes easier but less often. I used to write every day and while it sometimes came fast and easy, more often it was like wrestling with a monster. Now I just write when inspiration hits or when I require a song, or when someone asks for help with a song. And it flows pretty clear, though I work hard at it and will fight for the right rhyme, the right inspiration or twist in a song. When I was in my 20s I would try to write every day even when the inspiration didn’t want to come. That’s what the monster was about. I grew out of that.

What was the song that really surprised you? Any that really got this album off the ground?

On this album “November Tale” was the surprise. The music was written by my friend James Maddock, a talented English songwriter working out of New York, making his own records. It was a rolling acoustic guitar-driven ballad. But Zach Ernst and Brother Paul put southern soul licks on it and I decided to change the rhythm, give it a Memphis strut. Hood and Salmins delivered that and bang…The song had gone somewhere I hadn’t foreseen.

Beyond this tour is there anything you’d like to accomplish? People you want to work with?

Yes, I’d like Waterboys music to be much better known still. And I’d like to play with the great Jim Keltner again. Maybe he’d come and do a double drummer deal in the Waterboys with Ralph Salmins, recalling that mighty Mad Dogs & Englishmen sound when he teamed with Jim Gordon.