I have always loved the wild places between the Sierra Nevada range and the Rocky Mountains. The east face of the Sierra Nevada is steep and largely unknown, a wonderful setting.
The earth is rocky and full of roots; it's clay, and it seems doomed and polluted, but you dig little holes for the ugly shriveled bulbs, throw in a handful of poppy seeds, and cover it all over, and you know you'll never see it again - it's death and clay and shrivel, and your hands are nicked from the rocks, your nails black with soil.
After a casual listen, it might be easy to lump Rocky Votolato in with the downtrodden likes of Conor Oberst and Elliott Smith. But his songwriting is a bit more triumphant than theirs: Votolato would rather pull himself out of a gutter than wallow in it, focusing instead on the victory before the misery.
The view of the Rocky Mountains from the Divide near Kiowa Creek is considered one of the finest in Colorado.
I personally wouldn't want my second album to sound like my first; it might sound very rocky or hard rock - and that wouldn't be melancholy. So if people think my music is melancholic, then so be it. It's meant to be uplifting, and I'm just basically saying what needs to be said.
First of all, you look at Rocky films now, and if that isn't a cartoon series there isn't any cartoon series. I mean there's no way anybody is going to take that amount of punishment in fifteen rounds.
And like everybody else, I like the Rocky movies, but if you look at them again you can see all the misses, but the intensity of it, but that wasn't what this is.