Hollywood, California — “I sound like I’m bragging now, but I’m not. I don’t take credit for my music, I just play it,” said Miranda Lee Richards from her piano bench after introducing one of the songs from her new album, The Light Of X, as a “beautiful, beautiful little lullaby.”

Yes, coming from most musicians, a statement like that would have sounded like bragging or false modesty.  Coming from Miranda Lee Richards, however, it didn’t. During her Hotel Café performance this past Thursday (and during our interview beforehand), Miranda was the furthest thing from false. She possessed an aura of honesty that a lot of other guitar-toting folks under the folk music umbrella try too hard to emulate.

Her new album, The Light Of X, is a dreamy soufflé of delicate vocals and swirling instrumentals. The songs don’t so much end as they echo off into the distance. Live, the material is just as atmospheric. On Thursday, Miranda’s songs poured from the Hotel Café stage like an elixir or, as Miranda herself said, like beautiful, beautiful little lullabies.

The only thing the Light of X songs lacked on Thursday night were proper introductions. The dreamy quality of the set could have used a bit more between-song chit-chat from Miranda, and this is a rare request; usually, musicians could stand to dial back on the stage banter a bit. Usually, stage banter sounds forced (”Hey man, you know what this song is about? I’ll tell you what this song is about. It’s about my good friend John Lennon…”) or awkward (”This is for you, Daddy”). During our interview, Miranda bantered with such an uncanny naturalness that I found myself wishing that she’d done a bit more of it on stage.

Kelly Wiles: What does The Light Of X mean?

Miranda Lee Richards: I had been dreaming it, actually. I woke up with it playing in my head — the light of X, the light of X — and I thought it meant something, some sort of equation or something. So I looked it up online and there was some stuff about the speed of light, but nothing specific. Mostly it’s just an interesting title that I thought had a nice interpretive feel to it, and also, X is the variable, so you can make your own meaning out of it. Also “the light of” means something positive or beautiful or something.

KW: Your album is so dreamy and serene, and your voice is so relaxed. The studio atmosphere can be so intense and stressful. How do you manage to get into that relaxed calm?

MLR: The Quaalude sound?

KW: Exactly! [Laughs] The Quaalude sound.

MLR: I just try to sing enough times to get into the mood of it. If I sing it enough, I’ll just kind of meditate myself into that head space…which is why, live, I feel like I sing well, but occasionally I’ll miss it. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve gotten much better at singing live, but it’s just like playing with the band and it sounding different every night — sometimes that stuff can be distracting from the pure performance, which is why I actually love the studio. Now, people are sometimes saying, “Oh, they’re only good in the studio” [as an insult]. And it’s like, well, there’s another element with this kind of music, which is that in the studio, you have the peace and the space to really create a vibe, and that’s another element there. I also try not to drink too much coffee. [Laughs]

KW: You were in The Brian Jonestown Massacre. Now, I saw DiG! (the documentary that featured The B.J.M. and that Richards appeared briefly in), and what I loved about it was that it struck me as footage of the best and worst parts of exceedingly creative and talented people, in that the genius and talent almost always comes with emotional and mental baggage. Do you think that you’re more well-adjusted and that you gravitate towards that sort of up and down because you were raised by creative parents?

MLR: Well, I think that any kind of extreme form of mental illness is hard to be around. If anyone is highly unstable or doing a large amount of drugs, then no matter who it is or what your upbringing, you’ll always find that uncomfortable. But I guess I do have a certain tolerance for it. During that period of time, Anton [the lead singer of The B.J.M.] wanted me to sing with them, and while it was really dysfunctional and it was hard to be involved, there are also a lot of good qualities in Anton, and also, he’s not always like that. Sometimes he is, but you just had to get to know him, and then sometimes you’d be like, “Uh oh, it’s time to stay away,” or “Okay, he’s being great right now.” So it’s just a balance with [those kind of people], I think. It’s difficult, but if you have compassion for them, you can be around them in small doses.

KW: A lot of musicians come raging out of suburbia as these kids with guitars whose parents really disapprove of their artistic life choices. You were born to parents who are already artists, so was there anything you could do to really rebel?

MLR: Oh, well, from about age twelve to fourteen, I really wanted a P.T.A. Mom. I wanted my mom to be dressed in normal clothing and to come pick me up after school and make me sandwiches. [Laughs] I was into gymnastics, and it was totally sports-related, not a creative environment at all. All the other moms were in these suburban communities. I had this punk rock mom and, at that time, I felt embarrassed by it and I rebelled against it by being kind of straight for two or three years. And then I got over it [laughs] and realized that I too really enjoyed the creative lifestyle. So I really enjoy being a musician, but I figured I could do it in a not-dysfunctional way, which actually is a rebellion too. Even though my music is arty and I’m influenced by bands like The Velvet Underground, I’m influenced by other more traditional things too. I always imagined that if my mom were in a band, her band wouldn’t sound as professional as mine would [laughs], so that was really my rebellion.

KW: Were you an only child? Do you think this affected your creativity in any way?

MLR: Oh yeah. Well, it’s interesting because I was an only child, but also my mom was a single mom from the time I was nine, so that’s an interesting dynamic too, because you’re not spoiled in that same way, with attention or something. My mom worked and I was really independent — really on my own — and I think that the one way that influenced me the most is the fact that I’m a solo artist.

KW: That was going to be my next question: how you feel about being a solo artist versus being in a band? 

MLR: I always wanted to be in a band, and I like the sound of bands, and I think this record has a lot of band sensibilities, but I work really well on my own, in terms of the writing part of it, and I think that might come from being an only child. I physically can get a lot done alone. Some people freak out, they need to be around other people, even the chatter of other voices helps them work, and I’m [not that way].

KW: Your parents are comic book artists and you are a musician. What would you say the differences are between visual and aural creativity, and how important is the visual to you?

MLR: I think the difference is literally the difference between developing your eye and the dexterity in your hands versus developing your ear. I’m actually a really visual person too. When I write music, I see all the imagery, and when I do the album art, videos and stuff, I get really involved in that. I like the look of images, I like the way it helps you further express what you’re doing. I actually did go to art school too, so I can draw.

KW: In San Francisco? Where did you go?

MLR: School of the Arts. I was definitely headed in that direction, but then I was like, no, I’m playing music.

KW: What made you switch?

MLR: I discovered the guitar. Maybe the main difference [between the visual and aural] is how it makes you feel. I think music stimulates one part of your brain and art stimulates another. So if you’re painting all the time and you get into the zone, or you’re drawing, and it’s just you and the canvas, it’s really meditative. While the same applies to music and songwriting, I feel that the sound of music so instantly elevates your mood, and so to play music for a living is such an honor because you’re constantly doing that to yourself; you get to sit down and serenade, to play some songs to yourself on the piano – it just shocks you out of whatever is going on and makes you feel more beautiful.

KW: You’re a San Francisco transplant. How would you compare the types of creativity in San Francisco compared to the types of creativity in Los Angeles?

MLR: That’s a good question. Well, first of all, San Francisco has changed a lot — it’s a lot more conservative than it was. But the San Francisco creative types tend to be more underground, more indie, more outside the box. I’ll just speak in terms of music. There are these little scenes you can be into, like a rap hip-hop funk fusion thing, or rock or, well, there have always been these small psychedelic ’60s scenes on the West Coast since the ’60s, which is kind of funny. So I would say [the San Francisco music scene is] much more…what’s the word? When something is on the outside?

KW: Fringe?

MLR: Yeah, fringe. It’s more fringe, which is great. But the [music] industry isn’t there, and it remains in its own little world. And then, in Los Angeles, you have all these incredible opportunities and all this energy around you, but you have to filter. You have to be really careful that cheesy stuff doesn’t land in your mix. You have to be more guarded, which is a little frustrating because in San Francisco you can be an open book and suck up all the things around you and nothing’s going to corrupt your sound. So you really have to dodge some bullets [in Los Angeles], but if you do, then I think there’s more benefit to living here as a musician, because there are so many bands and there’s a huge scene of people playing music, and all that is really inspiring.

KW: You’re a California girl, but could you ever see yourself living anywhere else?

MLR: Brooklyn? Of course, now people are going to be like, “Oh, she said Brooklyn. Forget it. That’s it. We’re not going to buy the record.” [Laughs] But in all seriousness, maybe Brooklyn? I know Brooklyn has changed a lot, but it’s some place that’s right by the epicenter [of the city] but not in it. I need to maintain that psychic space for what I do. I can’t have it filled up 24/7 with people going out and running around. Some people love that, but then they don’t have time to write songs. I could imagine living in Europe, or maybe London for a period of time. Portland [Oregon] maybe — I love Portland and I have a lot of friends there. But I guess once you establish yourself, then you can kind of be anywhere. But I could always see myself going back to San Francisco, of course, because I love it there. But I’d have to be able to afford it. [Laughs]

Miranda Lee Richards will be playing a residency at Spaceland every Monday in February. More information about show dates and Miranda’s latest album, The Light of X, are available on her website.