It wasn’t enough for singer-songwriter David Berkeley to write songs, so his sixth album, Cardboard Boat, is again accompanied by a book, titled The Free Brontosaurus (out now via Rare Bird). Each song off Cardboard Boat is sung from perspective of the main characters that appear in the novella.

Pairing songs with stories is something the Harvard graduate had done before (the songs on his fourth album, Some Kind of Cure, were set up by the book 140 Goats and a Guitar). On Cardboard Boat, which Berkeley is touring right now, he layers his voice with guitars, the bowed bass, trumpets, string instruments and various percussion sounds.

Maybe his colorful past is the impetus for telling stories via songs, Berkeley says. After all, he has traveled the world, was a schoolteacher after 9/11 in NYC, and now lives with his family in New Mexico. He says, “But even when not actively pursuing music, I was always observing my world with an eye toward some form of expression, be it story or song. Once I did settle into songwriter as a profession, my travels and different experiences proved vital in expanding and enriching my palette.”

Hometown: I lived the first 17 years of my life in Scotch Plains, New Jersey.

Homebase: I’ve lived in over 10 different cities in the next decade. Santa Fe, New Mexico, is now home.

You’re promoting your sixth album and book, Cardboard Boat and The Free Brontosaurus. What were you thinking of when making them?

This was an ambitious project out of the gate. I wanted to write a book of interweaving stories and compose an album of songs that would pair with each story. The book came first and was primarily inspired by various characters I encountered in my travels and living in California. The songs are each written and sung from the perspective of each story’s main character. So, to answer the question, it was these people who most influenced this project. Most of these characters don’t fit in so well with mainstream society. They react differently than you or I might to the outside world. They often find beauty in bizarre places. Because of this, they’re isolated and alienated. Ultimately, they find each other, though. And that connection brings hope.

Why call the album Cardboard Boat?

Cardboard Boat is also the name of one of the tracks on the album. It is a metaphor for a fragile vessel, one that is ultimately doomed. It seemed representative of how a number of the characters feel at least in parts of their stories. It also seems emblematic of how many of us feel in our quieter moments, when we think about aging, mortality, and the like.

What was your songwriting process for the tunes in Cardboard Boat?  Why did you use unusual instruments in some of the songs?

I wrote most of these songs on the guitar, and they were all written for the characters in the book. I often was still editing the stories as I was completing the songs, and on a few occasions, I came up with metaphors in the songs that I then put into the stories. When it came time to record the songs, I sat the band down and discussed the characters and the themes of their stories at length. We then sculpted arrangements that matched the characters' struggles. An example might be “Colored Birds,” where we added a toy piano to conjure up some of the nostalgia that story’s protagonist feels for her childhood. 

Did you grow up in a musical household?

My mom was a great whistler. My dad was pretty much tone deaf. There were records on a lot. There was singing, but I wouldn’t call it the most musical of households. I did, however, go to a very musical nursery school. It was run by beautiful hippies. We called them by their first names. I remember revealing tops and Gibson guitars. That was all I needed to make a career choice. Of course, I was only four then, so I might be remembering wrong.

How did you realize you wanted to make music for a living?

Apart from my nursery school crushes? The truth is I haven’t always dreamed of this. I wanted to be a travel writer for a while. And I wanted to be a teacher. I was living in Brooklyn when September 11 happened. I had begun to write songs around that time, but as the city reeled and recovered, I wanted to do something active to help. I started teaching in a public school. It was pretty traumatic, and I’m not sure I was such a great teacher. By the end of that year, I had an album of songs written and had started performing. I struggled to do both (I was losing my voice yelling at the kids). That summer, I had to choose between returning to teach and trying to do music full time. It was a hard choice. It still is. The impact and rewards are starkly different, but songwriter fascinated me (and continues to fascinate me) like nothing else. And I think as I searched for what I had to give, what was uniquely mine to express and offer up, it was clear what I had to do.

Do you like writing prose better than songs?

I like them both for different reasons. You can stretch your legs out a bit in prose. You aren’t confined to rhythm and meter and rhyme. You don’t need to repeat a chorus. You can digress and describe at length. But all those constraints can be gifts in the context of a song as well. Rhyming can link disparate images and yield a power hard to attain with just a string of sentences. And man, I get to sing my songs. That’s a huge gift that I feel very grateful to be able to give whenever I get to sing.

You've lived in New York and California. Now you're living in Santa Fe. Does it influence your sound a lot?

For sure. I’ve been more productive here than anywhere I’ve lived. Something in the light and the quiet, in the big open skies, perhaps. I love recording here, too. I work with Jono Manson, and we’ve made three albums up in his remote studio in the hills of Chupadero, New Mexico. Bringing my band (all of whom live in cities) out there to work was a dream. The wildness of the landscape and the lack of distraction created a perfect environment for creativity, very laid back and free.

What do you do for fun?

Living in Santa Fe is pretty incredible for downtime. Skiing, hiking, camping... Most recently, though, I’ve been building one of those Little Free Library boxes with my sons. We just mounted the thing out front and filled it with books for the passersby. I wouldn’t exactly call that fun as I’m terrible with tools, but still...

That sounds very cool! Does being a family man influence your work -- has your writing, for example, changed since you were a single guy?

It’s been a long time since I was single. Definitely my family influences every bit of how I see and what I feel. They’re in all I write. They also influence my work habits. I have to get up really early to work before they get up. I have to work much faster. I have to find time in the cracks.

How do you describe your music to someone who's never heard of you?

I tell them it’s indie folk, and then they ask me what the hell that is. So then maybe I ask them what they like. If they seem to know Nick Drake, I say I’m a bit like that. If they say Cat Stevens, I say I sound a little like him. If they say Bob Dylan or Paul Simon, I say the same.

Do you anything other than make music and write these days?

Music is my only job, but I do some editing for friends. I also get hired to write and perform vocals for EDM. I wouldn’t exactly call it a day job, as it’s still music, but it’s pretty far from the music I identify with.

Do you remember the first song you ever wrote? What was it about?

A song called “Miss Maybe” was the first song I ever finished. It ended up on my first album The Confluence. It’s a much more complicated guitar part than I would write now. I wrote it to try to get back with my girlfriend. It worked. We ended up getting married.