Chris Pierce is a brilliant storyteller. On his ninth album, released Feb. 26, called American Silence, Pierce guides you through narratives of the deep struggle for equity in an America that wants glory and greatness, but still waits to do the work necessary to heal from its atrocities.

Relevant instance: After months of writing, locked down through the events of 2020, Pierce contacted a friend and “basically begged him” to open up his studio to record. The first single, American Silence, was released the week of the presidential election. Pierce wanted the album to feel like a snapshot of this moment. Tragically, it does in the wake of a series of shootings March 16, in three Atlanta spas where a shooter killed eight people, six of whom were Asian women.

His song San Francisco Bay was prompted by a post about racism against the Asian-American and Pacific Islander communities. Pierce met with a friend and the two examined what the Chinese people were promised and what was in their heads and hearts when they approached American shores from 1865-69  to work on the railroads. 

“If you do research on [that] history,” Pierce said, “it’s in all these great promises … ‘everybody’s going to accept you and bring you in and you’re going to make money and be able to buy a home and then one day, you will be part of this great big family.’ It’s the irony and [promises] compared to what actually happened. And the fact that in 2021, we had a president who [fed] these ideas of racism against folks in the Asian community and then folks were acting on it. This song, I hope, can show some empathy to that.” 

Distinctive from its name, American Silence sings loudly and poetically to historic injustice. The title song, indeed the album, bears contrasts, harmonizing metaphorically to the complacency that plagues this society. It asks of those who enjoy the works of people different than them, will they stand up for them? Stripped down to only acoustic guitar, harmonica and Pierce’s vocals — even on chorus, the album’s Americana-folk sounds shine light on complex subjects, striking both your heart and the core of these matters.

One year ago, Pierce, like everyone, found himself suddenly at home. While learning how to be an “overnight audio engineer,” trying to schedule online shows, and attempting to be productive, he began to write. At the same time amid the usual “violence,” a word he dislikes using, tolerance of it and murder ensuing — highlighted continously in excessive police shootings — he felt the beginning of a great awakening in this country. 

“Allies that weren’t necessarily allies before have the time and space to actually admit to themselves that these things were happening and ask what they can do about it.” said Pierce, who sought to add a piece to that conversation.

“[I wrote] … to add to the collective greater voice and higher consciousness of being a voice against inequality, injustice and excessive and inhumane force,” Pierce said. “It was unfathomable at the time to think about putting a record out and not knowing what the future holds. “The title became the main theme, about complacency but also about reaching out to people who it may be uncomfortable to reach out to.”

As events unfolded, Pierce did research. 

“The great John Lewis passed away, I wrote a song about it,” Pierce said. “George Floyd was murdered, I wrote a song about it. The Fourth of July came and I said, let me write about the prison workforce and how that’s a gargantuan tragedy … prisoners are being exploited while white collar criminals are getting away with things. By September, I had a whole album written. I decided I can’t wait until this pandemic is over … It’s important just like it’s important to raise your voice and get in the streets.”

Pierce has captured the weight of emotions felt from the pandemic and facing the nation’s uncomfortable history, while attempting to be in stillness and silence at home. He also dealt with his own horrific experiences with racism, beginning when, at five-years-old, a cross was burned on his family’s front lawn in Pasadena. 

“[We’ve] had a lot of time to do a lot of digging in the past 12 months,” Pierce said. “Maybe some things have come up to the surface that we were able to push aside because we were busy. I honestly think that’s a part of the reason that folks were able to find it in their hearts, their spirit and the fire burning inside of their souls to get out and be a part of the uprisings … it was the time and space to do it.” 

 About those choir parts, Pierce “called on” his ancestors starting with his dad who was the youngest of 10 children. He called on every one of his aunts and uncles on his paternal side, all of whom have beautiful voices. 

“I made an ancestral choir with them and put the choir on most of the songs,” Pierce said. 

This includes the American Silence video where he created a vibe by representing many people in it, but all of it was actually Pierce’s voice. 

Sound All The Bells is a very personal song. It’s a timeline of Pierce’s own compartmental experiences with racism. 

“It calls out to new allies to stay with us, and to stay with me,” he said. “To listen to these [songs] over the gentle melody with gentle guitar and hopefully be struck by the timeline … from the time I was five, leading up to sitting with my wife at the dinner table and having an [racial] incident and arrest and accusations … that kind of stuff.” 

Chain Gang Fourth of July is about employer wage theft and empathy.

“[It’s] one of the largest forms of larceny in the United States, and the fact that it’s not even a crime, … [but] if you rob a store, you could go away for decades,” Pierce said. “I’m thinking about the reason that we choose to call one a crime and the other act blameless. It’s this archaic social construct that no longer fits in the society.” 

Pierce has been falsely arrested and has had family members who have been put away for a long time that have been falsely accused. Chain Gang was written the day before the Fourth of July, only days from the anniversary of Frederick Douglass’ July 5, 1852 speech, What to the Slave Is the Fourth of July? 

Bring The Old Man Home is another very personal song about practicing what you preach and not turning your back on folks that may be having a hard time. 

Pierce has newly been getting to know his father-in-law, a Vietnam veteran who for many years was homeless. He’s been a part of Pierce and his wife’s life for the past few years. 

“Getting to know him and seeing my wife with her giant heart take it upon herself to reach out and make him a part of her life and our lives has been a wonderful experience,” Pierce said. 

The song asks, if it were family or friend would you stop, lend a hand? Would you see it in your heart to help? 

“Hopefully that will prompt folks to make a change internally …” Pierce said. “In LA, as you know, [the unhoused] basically make up [everyone in] our society. It represents, who we are and yet there’s so many questions about what we can do to actually help … and help them make a change.”

American Silence ends on a positive note with Young, Black and Beautiful, a number that harkens to Nina Simone’s Young, Gifted and Black.

Pierce’s friend posted on social media sharing how her son was reaching the age where “folks were starting to go from saying ‘your son’s so cute’ to her feeling like people were starting to see him as a threat.”

As events occurred to prove this theory — doors being locked, purses held closer, people crossing the street — Pierce thought about mothers of Black children, his own mother and that threshold. He thought about children who don’t have the capacity at that age to deal with the fact that people are actually, suddenly seeing them as a threat. Their bodies are bigger, they’re growing into Black adults. He wondered if he wrote a song to himself at age 11 or 12, while growing rapidly and feeling those things, what would it sound like? 

The Black national anthem, with its sentiment of “lift every voice and sing” was the answer. He wanted the song to have cadence and that feeling of standing tall and marching, something to be proud of.

“Out came Young, Black and Beautiful and my hope is that, not only Black kids and Black parents and parents of Black kids, but it can be a rallying cry for everybody to celebrate Blackness and not fear Blackness,” Pierce said. 

American Silence is available digitally, with vinyl and CDs becoming available when touring resumes. Meanwhile, Pierce looks forward to performing  at Napa’s BottleRock Festival in September, some east coast gigs this summer and his ongoing project with Sunny War, War & Pierce.

“And by no means am I done with the Blues Opera,” said Pierce, alluding to a revival of his twenty-one song tale following the journey of a fictional street preacher, many years ago in the American deep South, which he performed at San Pedro’s Grand Annex in 2018.

Details: www.chrispierce.com