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FIVE QUESTIONS

Five Questions With Jason Karaban

By his own account, Jason Karaban would’ve been dead in 48 hours. Buried in a pile of ratty blankets on a sidewalk somewhere along Los Angeles’ infamous Skid Row, Karaban was so anemic he’d lost the use of his legs—and so beaten down that he finally accepted one of numerous offers of help from the city’s mental-health department. He had no choice. He could barely move to piss.

It’s been a little more than a year since Karaban was taken off the streets after three years of living homeless. Awhile (Forty4 Music) is his first new music in more than 12 years. And while the EP’s six songs were recorded more than a decade ago, their pained beauty, easy grace and classic feel come as an immediate sigh of relief—and a confirmation of his copious talent as one of the best singer/songwriters you’ve never heard.

In better days, Karaban was writing music for TV and film and collaborating with the likes of Ani DiFranco, Soul Asylum’s Dave Pirner, Huffamoose’s Craig Elkins and Toad The Wet Sprocket’s Glen Phillips. Three of Awhile’s six tracks are cowrites with Phillips. (Listen to “Can’t Trust You With My Heart” below.) The EP also features appearances from Garrison Star, Soul Coughing bassist Sebastian Steinberg, Nickel Creek’s Sara Watkins, Attractions drummer Pete Thomas and Heartbreakers keyboardist Benmont Tench (Check out the video for “Low Road,” the tender duet with Starr, below.)

“There’s not a lot of bitterness,” says Karaban of the writing on Awhile. “I was seeking solace in the songs and looking for them to come up with the answers—instead of me.”

For more on Karaban’s incredible journey, read on.

How did everything go south for you?
I was living in a really nice apartment in Hollywood, and I’d lost it because I couldn’t pay the rent anymore. One thing led to another, and I finally became homeless. I was off the grid. I didn’t speak to my family or any close friends. I snapped. I was just broken for three years. I was diagnosed with bipolar depression close to 20 years ago. Losing my apartment and the stress of other things going on set me off. It was getting worse and worse, and I wasn’t getting the proper medication. I’d have these manic episodes for days and months—and that turned into years. The thing that’s hard about being manic is that I love being manic. I don’t get the major depressive side to it. My manic ups can last nine months to a year.

So you didn’t want to be found?
I didn’t want to be found, but I didn’t want to not be found, you know. I was resigned to the fact that I’d die on the street. I was living on Skid Row, one of the worst neighborhoods you could be in the country. This guy (Jeff Bradac) who knew my old band (Dragstrip Courage) found me on the street. He wound up putting videos of me on the internet. People started seeing them, and they started catching on. He saved my life—I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him. Then the mental-health department came out, along with my ex-wife and friends of mine. They tracked me down because they could see where I was in the video clips. I couldn’t even walk. I was peeing in jars and bottles. My hemoglobin levels were so low I would’ve died if I’d waited one more day to go to the hospital. I had to get two blood transfusions within two weeks of each other.

What’s the story behind the new EP?
Before I lost my home, I managed to record a little bit here and there. I wasn’t planning on making a record, but the stuff I did record made it onto Awhile. It’s a collection of songs left over from that time period. I really had no intention whatsoever of releasing anything. When I was homeless, I had no desire to make music. Jon Kowit (a partner in Karaban’s label) finally talked me into it.

So what’s next?
I live in boarding care, and I’m looking to get my own place. I don’t have any roommates—I have my own apartment. They give me my medication every day; I have three square meals. It’s actually a nice place. The next step is getting into independent housing. The mental-health department has been amazing. What they’ve done for me I couldn’t have done myself.

Are you writing now?
I’m writing a little bit, but I sometimes I just can’t do it—it’s not happening. It’s like sex. I need to catch stuff quick when it happens. If I get something at like three in the morning, I get up and lay it down quick. I don’t want to be on medication to begin with. You know, it’s weird. I look at pictures of myself on the street, and I can’t believe that’s me. The only reason I’m staying on medication is because I know how far down being off it can take me. But now that I put out this EP, I definitely want to start working on another record.

—Hobart Rowland