Simon was kind enough to answer some of our questions about the album’s conception, its themes of love and loss in the Midwest and his day job as a college professor. I think you’ll agree that his responses are excellent.

Hi Simon, thanks for speaking with us. How is life now that your new album Murmurations is out in the world?

Hi Liam. Great talking to you. Life’s great, both related to and beyond the record itself. But it does feel good to have it out in the world. It was a long time gestating, and I’m an embarrassingly and foolishly impatient person when it comes to the creative process. I was patient here, and it paid off. But I’m glad that the wait is over.

You now live in Indianapolis but returned to WI to record the album. When listening to the album I get the feeling that this was necessary, that you needed to return home to capture a certain atmosphere during the recording. Is this a romantic idea on my part, or is there an element of truth in it?

It’s actually kind of both. We started the first sessions recording the record as I was in the process of moving to Indianapolis. I still technically had an address in Wisconsin, but everything that was there was in flux and, quite literally, in boxes. I didn’t necessarily “return” to Wisconsin to record, but I did make a conscious choice to do the recording before I left.

This was both pragmatic and romantic. On the one hand, the people that I really wanted to work with on the record were mostly based in Eau Claire, WI, or could easily get there. We recorded at Shane Leonard’s (Kalispell, Field Report) home studio. Shane played percussion, additional guitars, banjo, and other instruments on the record, in addition to engineering and co-producing it. Ben Lester lives literally a couple blocks down the street from Shane, and Ben’s one of my favorite pedal steel players. His stuff with everyone from The Tallest Man on Earth to Aero Flynn to S. Carey is just such a great example of the instrument’s beauty. Steve Hobert, who played keys and accordion, lives about 90 minutes away in Minneapolis/St. Paul, and Kevin Rowe, who played bass, is in Madison, WI, which is a few hours from Eau Claire. Those were the central players on the record, so it made sense to try to do the recording in a place that they could easily access.

But my connection to Wisconsin is also very intimate and very deep. I literally have the state outline tattooed on my arm. And as I’ve gotten older, its pull on me has only gotten stronger. A lot of the songs are written with Wisconsin landscapes in mind, and I couldn’t imagine having recorded it outside of Wisconsin.

The album is a full-band effort, which is a stark departure from your debut, The Roads That Make Men Weary. How does the recording process differ when working with a band? Did you set out to make a full-band album from the start? Or did you write the songs alone and build them up from there?

In a lot of ways, the experience was totally different. I wanted to make a full band record; I knew that much right away. I also knew that I wanted to work with Shane on it – I love the work he does as a player and writer, and thought that he’d be able to build the sonic landscapes with me in ways that would enrich the sound without losing the songs’ core saliencies. I still started off the process in the same way as I did with Roads, though. Even though I wanted a full-band record, I wanted to write the guitar and lyrical frameworks for the songs on my own before bringing them to Shane and, eventually, the band.

It was a really welcome departure from Roads, honestly. I’m proud of that record, but in a lot of ways it very much reflects a writing stage that I think I’ve grown out of. The recording process for Roads was a lot of fun, with a friend of mine and I holing up in a cabin in Wisconsin for a few days and him recording me on a pretty minimalist setup. But at the end of the day, it was essentially just me that was laid out on the tracks. I really enjoyed watching the songs grow and gather legs and lungs and breathe as Shane, Steve, Ben, Kevin, Amanda, and Margaret got their hands in the dough.

The state of Wisconsin, and the Midwest in general, is a major theme on the album. What does Wisconsin mean to you? What are the main issues that people there deal with, and what do you think about when you think about home?

Oh, man. This could be a book. You’re right. It is a major theme. It might in fact be the major theme.

For me, the Midwest, and Wisconsin in particular, has a supremely calming effect. Part of that I suppose is just a matter of comfort, since I’ve lived in Wisconsin for about 90% of my life and in the Midwest for all of it. But it’s deeper than simple familiarity, I think. I come from the southwest corner of Wisconsin, which is very, very hilly and very rural. It’s gorgeous – like, stunning in its natural beauty. And the particular plot of land on which I grew up was at the dead end of a mile-long road in the bottom of a valley, where the closest neighbor was at least a fifteen-minute walk away. When I was a kid, I hated the isolation, but it had the effect of really priming me to the rhythms of the seasons, the power of nature, and the beauty of physical and auditory spaces that don’t have much of a human footprint.

So now, fast forward to me at 33, I still think in similar ways about nature, and there’s no place that puts a grip on me in this way more than the Midwest. I’ve traveled all over the U.S. and seen many beautiful natural spaces. But for me, nothing compares to that little isolated pocket of Wisconsin. We’re about to hit autumn here, and I wish you could see it. Words can’t do it justice.

Finally, I’d just say that the Midwest is important to me because of the kinship I feel with so many of the people here. A mentor and friend of mine who grew up near me, but was about twenty years older, passed away on New Years this year. But one comment he made that will stick with me: we were drinking beers at a bar in Wisconsin after a cross-country trip he’d made scouting bluegrass bands for a festival he curated. I asked how it had been, and he said that it was good, but that he preferred to be home. I asked how come. He mentioned the beauty that I talked about a minute ago. But he also said, simply, “the people here aren’t assholes.” I know there are plenty of people elsewhere in the States who aren’t assholes; I’m privileged to know a great many of them. But at least in Wisconsin, I think there are fewer of them per capita than there are elsewhere.

Another prominent image is one of the murmuration. What is it about starlings that made you want to name an album after them?

The visual effect of watching starlings in murmuration is, to me, one of the most awe-inspiring in nature. I absolutely love it and am totally confounded by it. One day I started sketching the song that became the title track (“I hope your heart breaks into starlings when it’s time for you to go”), and knew that Murmurations was going to the record title.

But perhaps the strongest thread of all is that of loss, be it in terms of the death of a loved one or a traditional way of life. Is the sense of loss in your music based on personal experience or are they works of fiction? And do you ever think about the positive effect your music could have on people going through such issues?

I get variations of the question “why are your songs so sad” a lot. Before the record came out, I jokingly told a friend of mine that she’d be pleasantly surprised because there were at least two songs on it that were not discernibly sad.

The irony is that I’m actually a really happy person for the most part, but I think loss is such a universal human experience that it’s worth spending time thinking about and writing about. I don’t generally write about my own experiences, and if I do, it’s usually in fairly opaque ways. The songs about loss that are really lyrically specific (‘Midwest Elegy’ and ‘Ohio,’ in particular) are far more observational than personal. As much as I love where I come from, it’s a place that’s seen a lot of people struggle in the post-industrial age, and I wanted to try to capture the experiences of people trying to cope with the loss of a way of life. A few others (‘Dark Burns,’ ‘Revelation Road’) have more elements of my own life in there; ‘Dark Burns’ draws some from the experience of losing my mom, while ‘Revelation Road’ comes in part from the death of a friend in a car accident two winters ago. For the most part, though, even though I’m a very specific lyricist, I try to universalize experiences rather than just talking about my own. The pool from which you can draw as a writer gets so much more expansive and interesting if you start putting yourself in other people’s shoes.

As to your final question, I’m not sure if I ever put a lot of thought into my music helping people work through things. But at least in some measure, it seems to have had that effect on some people. When I first debuted ‘Midwest Elegy’ in a live session on Wisconsin Public Radio, my email inbox got blown up by people talking about how it related to things they were dealing with. When I was out on tour playing ‘Dark Burns’ last month, a number of people came up afterward for a hug and to talk about their own experience losing a parent. Those are the experiences that really make touring worth it.

This isn’t strictly about your music, but I read online that you have a doctoral degree and teach history at a university in Indiana. Do you have a specific area of interest? And what effect do your intellectual pursuits have on your music?

Ha! A newspaper in Madison, Wisconsin previewed my show there this summer by calling me something like “a Ryan Adams-esque vocalist who also happens to be a college professor,” which made me laugh. But yes, it’s true. I generally try to keep those worlds separate; and mostly only tour in the summer as a result.

I teach history, and specialize in African American History. Honestly, the biggest way that it comes to bear on my music is that being a history professor is a job that requires you to read A LOT. And I think that the more you read, the more you refine your own skills as a wordsmith and lyricist. I know that I feel exponentially more primed to write if I’ve been reading a good book – even a good history book – before I sit down to write. And when I think about some other great lyricists of my generation – folks like Chris Porterfield of Field Report, Justin Kinkel-Schuster of Water Liars, Amanda Shires – one of the things that we have in common is a passion for books and good wordsmithing. I’m not saying I wouldn’t read as much if I didn’t teach history; but it certainly forces me to do so and pays dividends musically as a result.

Finally, could you name 4/5 artists that you’ve been listening to recently? They can be brand new or golden oldies, whatever you’re into.

Great question. My listening tastes are all over the map, but I’ll give it a crack. Probably the most-anticipated album of this year for me is Hiss Golden Messenger’s one, due out next month. Mike Taylor is hands-down one of my favorite writers, and the band he’s assembled around him is just right in my wheelhouse. There’s a rapper out of Chicago named Noname, and her new mixtape Telefone might be my favorite record of the year so far. Its closest competition is the new Mount Moriah record, which is essentially perfect. I’m also completely in love with the new record Cartoon Moon by my friends Dead Horses, who do pretty much perfect Americana. And finally, for the traditional crowd, Bruce Molsky’s new project Molsky’s Mountain Drifters is just fantastic fiddle tunes and traditional folk.

Wow. That’s six, and I didn’t even mention my Springsteen and Kendrick Lamar obsessions. I guess I’ll stop there*.

*Simon has since emailed to let us know that Bon Iver’s 22, A Million is (and I quote) “blowing my mind”.

Murmurations is out now and you can get it from the Simon Balto Bandcamp page.

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The story of artistic retreat and self-imposed exile seems to be a popular one in press releases, so we thought it might be interesting to ask Joensuu a few questions to see, amongst other things, just what it is about the wilderness that seems to attract people intent on creating music.

Hello Mikko, thanks for taking the time to speak with us. How is Finland at this time of year?

My pleasure! Surprisingly there’s a lot of sun and heat up here, after a long and cold winter. Very nice indeed.

How does it feel to have the first piece of your Amen trilogy out in the world? Can you relax and enjoy the release, or is there a lingering sense of anticipation for the other two?

It feels very good that the process of releasing has finally began, but I guess the proper relax-moment for me is somewhere in the summer of 2017. Lots of stuff lingering, definitely.

How challenging was it to separate the songs into a three-record series? Was it clear which song belonged on which album? Did some exist in a grey area between two?

I guess there was a bit of grey area for one or two songs, since in the end there are so many ways you can record or arrange a song. I guess one thing to point out is that I never intended to make three albums or a “trilogy”. I had written different kinds of songs for many years and found it very hard to fit them in one album, so I just kept writing and decided not to release anything until the idea of an album is clear. I later realised that the album I was making was actually three albums long. So it was the long process that eventually showed me what songs every album should have.

The press release informs us that you confined yourself to “the darkness in a remote part of Finland’s woods” in order to create the records. Did you get away with the intention of recording these albums? Or did you go with no idea of what might emerge?

It was after the realisation that there’s three albums when I decided that I needed more space and time to sit around with it. I built a studio in a cabin to record everything I could and to really sink into the world of these songs. Every album is very different but they are part of the same idea or story. I did write more songs there and went through a lot of old ones to get every album the form it needed to have. My time there really made me see what the albums should be in detail.

More generally, what is it about isolation that is so conducive to your creative process? Is it just a case of fleeing distraction? Or achieving a Zen-like concentration? Or to avoid falling into familiar lines of thought (as Nietzsche said, “When I am among the many I live as the many do, and I do not think as I really think”). Can/have you ever written without some degree of isolation?

I think I’m fleeing distraction so that I can give all of my energy just to think about the form of the music. I really enjoy sinking into writing with everything I got. On top of this I feel the isolation and nature breathes into the creative process. I sometimes went fishing in the middle of the lake six in the morning after recording 12 hours straight, just to be quiet. It’s nice to be in complete silence when you are having a break from writing or recording. I would say that nature and isolation highlights my normal state of mind. I don’t pay too much attention on what’s going on in the world of music, but the isolation gives me more space to see what the ideas really are. I hear songs in my head all the time so I really don’t need isolation to make them, but it does help a great deal.

Who/what do you consider to be the biggest influences on your songwriting and sound? Have non-musical art forms (literature, visual art etc.) played a role too?

In music there are of course so many. Bob Dylan, Hank Williams, Scott Walker, LeeHazelwood, Roy Orbison to name a few. I think through Scott Walker I really began to be interested in making music, and not what style should be. I also get a lot of inspiration from short moments that speak to me in a strong way. They can be from something I see in everyday life or a few seconds in a movie. Film makers like Andrei Tarkowsky or David Lynch are artists who can create these very inspiring moments in so many levels.

Finally, could you name the 4-5 artists you are currently listening to most often? They can be new favourites or old classics, global hits or local gems, whatever you’re enjoying at the moment.

Dennis Wilson
Bob Dylan – Ten of Swords
Deradoorian
Erkin Koray
Harmonia and Brian Eno

You can buy Amen 1 now from the Mikko Joensuu Bandcamp page, or on vinyl via Svart Records.

The post Interview: Mikko Joensuu appeared first on Various Small Flames.

Hi Jenny, thanks for speaking with us! How is life in California at this time of year? 

It’s cool and rainy, every day is different weather wise and there aren’t really any seasons so it can feel disorienting!

Your latest album, Cure For Dreaming, sounds like your fullest, most polished release to date. Was this your intention going into the record? Or do such things evolve as the songs take shape? 

I think my intention was to work with someone and hand over the production “polishing” reins so I could really focus on songwriting and singing. My previous efforts have been looser and more experimental and self produced, which was fun but I had an eight month old baby at the time of creating the album so had to think of how to simplify and delegate. My main goal was for it to sound beautiful.

I was trying to decide if the album is sad or uplifting and came to the conclusion that it’s both, which I suppose isn’t all that surprising considering the existential themes of mortality, motherhood and spirituality. I’m interested in how the songs feel in your own mind? Does the binary happy/sad idea even occur to you? 

I feel the songs are hopeful-someone once told me they were drawn to my music because it’s about the survival of your spirit in the difficult situation of being human. So not really happy or sad, just about loving despite suffering. I liked that reading very much.

Who/what do you consider as the biggest influences on your writing? Are they musical or from personal experiences? Do any other art forms (literature, film, visual art) play a role? 

My biggest influence is probably my mother who gave me her 1972 Martin when I was thirteen and played tapes of Bob Dylan, Leonard Cohen, Dionne Warwick, Dolly Parton and other greats in our house and car while I was growing up. I am constantly reading three or four books at once, and poetry definitely influences me–I think for this album a poet named Patrizia Cavelli was really getting to me, her clarity and directness. My friendships with women have also really affected my songwriting and depicting their strength and intricacies, and motherhood has been a huge part of my recent writing.

Your record label, Narooma Records, is a home for “genre-defying”, “offbeat” female artists. How important is it to set up networks of support and collaboration in today’s saturated music industry?

I think it’s very important and if you find other female artists to support and who in turn encourage you, it makes you feel like you can keep going as a woman artist in your 30s or 40s–there isn’t a whole lot of support for that in the mainstream music world.

What’s next for Jenny Gillespie? Do you have clear plans for your future, or is your creative process a little more intuitive?

I would like to keep writing and recording but probably under a new name, I think it’s time to shed and renew. I am interested in blending synthetic with organic as I did on my album Chamma-but also getting it into a jazz/r and b place–that’s my intuition right now! But probably not for a few months, since I have a new baby coming in July.

Finally, could you name 4-5 artists you yourself are currently enjoying? They can be brand new or old classics, super-popular or barely known, whatever you find yourself returning to. 

Joanna Newsom, Madeleine Parrenin, Beyoncé, Julie Andrews

You can get Cure For Dreaming now on vinyl, CD or download via Narooma Records or the Jenny Gillespie Bandcamp page.

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Here’s what Ryder had to say about the album, as well as the brand new song ‘coca-cola purgatory’, peach pit‘s opening track.

Hi Ryder, thanks for speaking with us. How are things at the moment? You’re about to release an EP, Peach Pit. What can people expect from the record?

All is well. [peach pit is] six quiet songs. I’m not sure, I think it’s pretty honest.

As the blurb on the Drunk with Love Records Bandcamp attests, the lyrics on peach pit often comprise of seemingly mundane observations which add up to form an almost poetic sense of pace and time. Was this intentional? And what images do these songs conjure for you upon reflection?

No, that’s not intentional. The point is not to glorify the mundane, in fact none of this is mundane to me. All of it’s very meaningful. It’s hard to imagine hearing peach pit with other ears but I think that the listener hears that I derive meaning from these things. Maybe without understanding why, and that’s totally okay. That might have the effect that you mentioned. For me these songs conjure the moments in which they were conceived, they’re really nothing more than a means to document something that I feel. I know exactly what they’re about. The more interesting question I think, at least for me, is what images they conjure for others.

Your bio introduces you as a jazz bassist, but Peach Pit isn’t exactly a jazz album. Was it fun to make something different and more personal? And did you formal training impact upon these songs in any way?

I hesitate to say that it’s more personal. I’m not sure I’d say it was fun either. Finishing a song is always gratifying but each of them expresses a very particular sentiment. I think “Coca-Cola purgatory” is pretty fun. I don’t know, sometimes it’s really hard. And yes, in the sense that on every song except “hand me downs” I think I only used the bottom four strings of the guitar. I’m not really a guitarist.

Who or what do you consider the main influences on your work (be they musical or otherwise)?

That depends on the era from which a particular song comes, and certainly I’ve got some new ones, but during these last two years, Jeff Tweedy, Angel Olsen, Deerhoof, Chris Weisman. All my friends who make art/music.

How did your relationship with Drunk with Love Records come about?

Jake Bellissimo and I used to go to school together and for a time I lived above him. Sometimes I’d go sing my songs to him. We like each other’s music. Right now we’re both living in Europe and a small tour of Germany was a good excuse for me to get on board officially and put together this first album for drunk with love.

6. What can we expect from you after your début release? Do you have any further releases in the pipeline?

No further releases in the pipeline as far as I can see, but that’s not very far. The way that I write is so sporadic it’s hard to say. I think whatever comes next will probably be of a similar nature; a collection of songs that I have written over a couple years while occupying myself mainly with other things.

7. Finally, could you recommend 4 or 5 artists that you’ve been into lately?

Lately I’ve been checking out Muddy Waters, The First Miles Quintet, some Prokofiev. Mostly I’m checking out french public talk radio.

peach pit is due for release on Drunk With Love Records later this month. You can pre-order it now on lathe-cut 7″ vinyl or as a name-your-price download. Eaton is also joining Jake Bellissimo on a tour of Germany around the time of release. Check out the dates below.

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“strives to be sincere in every sense, finding the bravery not just to declare his love for his wife but to voice his fears, his weaknesses, his exasperation with life as we live it.”

As we liked the album so much, we were delighted when Adeem accepted our request to talk a little more in-depth about it, and delighted further when we read his responses. I hope, like us, you find his answers interesting and enlightening and maybe inspiring, too.

Hi Adeem, thanks for taking the time to speak with us. How’s life in Tennessee at the moment?

Life is well. Currently most of my time is spent practicing the tao of litter box maintenance and watching The Force Awakens as many times as I can before it leaves the theatre. Tennessee is full of pollen right now so we’re all crying for the same reason which isn’t usual.

First of all, I think we need to ask about the change of name. It’s clear from your piece on the matter that names and identity are very important to you, and that Adeem feels like an unburdening of mystery and/or a return to something more sincerely, capital-Y You. Was Kyle Adem a weight around your neck, or a well-worn skin now shed? Do you feel the switch of name is intrinsic to the album as it turned out?

I feel so uncomfortable to talk about my name. It must sound so trivial and elitist and irksome to most people. Kyle Adem was a proclamation in its own right as well so it’s proper to call it a well-worn skin. The first album I released as Kyle Adem was important to the change I was making. I wanted to make music that was more lighthearted and quirky. I discovered Lou Reed and Tom Waits and was really over trying to make every song I wrote into a sermon’s sister piece. So that album had strangers looking for soulmates at a funeral and a character who dies and starts offering sexual favors to other ghosts in order to make friends in the afterlife. “We are not philosophers in search of the unknown. We are kids who do not want to be alone- and we will find our own fucking way home” as a lyric from that project was kind of my creed during that time. Especially last year, it began to feel more like a barrier to the art that I wanted to create. I feel very over the idea of trying to commit to a brand. I contain multitudes. I don’t know how to package that. It also deals a lot with my relationship with my parents, religion, my inevitable death… All of that felt very linked to my decision to assume the name “Adeem” and the things that it meant for who I want to be in this life. I guess this is a sort of generic Saturn’s return sort of record so there’s birth and death and the introduction of myself as “Adeem” is important to that.

Sincerity in art is something which really interests me, particularly in terms of a reaction against something, irony or mystery or whatever you want to call it (ie. the mask to hide behind born of fear of being seen as naïve). Do you find it difficult to share the songs which are unashamedly You?

Yes and no. I started writing poetry when I was twelve as a way of communicating things I didn’t know how to say. As a teenager, most of my songs were about pain and sadness and I didn’t entirely understand why. I was viewing the world through such a distorted lens and so I think music became my safe space where I could say whatever I wanted and people would interpret it in ways that were personal to them. I could write a song about my questions surrounding religion and people would connect with it on a personal level. If I asked those questions aloud, it was heresy. Same with my parents, my friends, everything. If I sang it, it seemed like people heard it in a way that was palatable. It’s difficult, though. It’s true that to listen to these songs is to hear the essence of who I am as a person in a very vulnerable, honest way so it’s scary to think of being known in this way by strangers. It’s also true, however, that it’s a vague portrait of the ocean inside so there’s a dual fear that people will think they know more than they ever could.

What or who would you list as your biggest influences? Do you consider art forms other than music to have played a role in shaping your sound? Maybe literature or film or visual art?

I was born in eighty eight so my very young years were filled with all of the glory of the 90’s. Garth Brooks was probably the first artist I obsessed over. I poured through his albums and devoured his songs. After that I listened to Savage Garden’s debut album probably over a thousand times. That’s my cleaning-the-house jam. In the early 2000’s I started getting really excited about Johnny Cash and then Chris Carrabba and everything emo. mewithoutYou, David Bazan, and the mountain goats are some of my most formative influences at this stage. I had to stop listening to TMG because I was emulating his writing style too much. I also consider Charles Bukowski, Kahlil Gibran, and Fred Rogers a sort of holy trinity that I spend time praying to depending on whether or not I feel like inspiring someone’s very gentle, beautiful soul or drinking whiskey under a bridge. Film too, yeah. Chaplin’s The Great Dictator inspired the song “Sidewalk” off the new album. I have an EP that I’ll put out next year probably that’s based on an episode of Doctor Who. I also really like Duaiv, a visual artist in Florida who paints these wonderfully eccentric paintings of sailboats that I adore. I own one from my time working on ships. My wife as well is a painter who has inspired me not just with her person but with her art. I have a couple of pieces that are based on paintings she has done.

Your mini-essay reads as something organic, a gloriously natural non-PR led piece of the kind which seems to be dropping out of view in the modern music scene. Do you feel artists could do more in their use of the internet as a means of direct, intimate conversation, as opposed to the mass marketing, product-selling tool it seems to have become?

Oh, I don’t know. I think part of it probably comes from my general dissatisfaction with capitalism and consumer culture as a whole. I’ve read a lot of blogs about social media marketing strategy and branding and it’s all great stuff but it feels disingenuous to me- probably because I don’t see myself as a “professional musician.” I see my approach as a weakness more than anything. When I was younger and I still believed life was a story about me, I was much more prone to these marketing strategies. Now that I am older, I wonder how many more songs from white guys with acoustic guitars do we really need? There are people who like what I do and have a visceral reaction to it. I like to stumble organically into those people because they usually have some similar trajectory of life as I do. Anyone is capable of writing the music that I write but I was sad enough to do it. It seems weird to try and sell that reality as a commodity. I don’t aspire to be a musician. I aspire to journey- to eat fresh fruit and ride my bicycle in every state. I aspire to breathe ocean air and to taste Hannah’s mouth in the cool spring mornings. I aspire to sleep in and drink tea. Music is a thing that I do to re-center my soul and also to make new friends. I hope it supports a quality of life that enables my aspirations but little else and I can’t tell yet if there is a market for brash sincerity. I’ll get back to you.

At the end of the piece you hint at ‘lots of kickass projects’ which will be coming in the future. Can you give us any more details, or are they all Top Secret for the time being?

I’m not entirely sure what I’m going to do next. I’m probably going to take a little bit of time off in the fall and work on a definitive “next-art-thing.” I’m starting to write a lot more prose and I’ve been painting and sketching and working on some new conceptual EP’s that are literary pieces- vague storylines with interesting characters. I am leaning towards releasing this series of four EP’s named after birds. They deal with the emotional connection that songs have to specific memories in our life and the lasting impact they can have on the way we ascribe narrative to our experiences.

Finally, could you name four or five acts you think we should be listening too? They can be brand new or old classics, whatever you think will make our days a little brighter (or darker)?

Oh, hell yes. One of my favorite EP’s right now is by a band called Blond Bones. Otherwise I’ve been listening to a lot of Jason Isbell, Childish Gambino, Joey English, and Gaslight Anthem. I think all of those will probably accomplish both brightening and darkening of days!

You can buy Kyle Adem is Dead from the Adeem the Artist Bandcamp page, or via iTunes. Don’t forget to read our review too.

Photo by Hannah Bingham

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“There’s never going to be a satisfactory way to describe art so fluid and weird and instinctive… It’s operating on a deeper level, one not easily outlined, playing on some atavistic region of the subconscious that reacts to fear and beauty, that treats intense wonder and dread as the same emotion”

As with anything fluid/weird/instinctive, the only way to get a true handle on Old Earth’s music is to speak to Umhoefer himself. We first asked him some questions back in 2013, though we thought the time was right to follow up with more.

Hello Todd, thanks for speaking with us. How’s life now that Lay For June is out?

Thanks for giving me the opportunity to talk about the work! The response is the strongest and most positive I’ve ever received, so I also want to thank everyone who took the time to listen, write back, and very graciously to those who bought downloads.

It’s good to have it off my shoulders. The last EP proved to be an unexpected stumbling block- I tried recording it 3 times and really struggled with the lyrics, which slowed me down. For the sake of the larger narrative, I prefer the ladder had to come out first, though. Lay for June is deep and somewhat painful, so I was living in that darkness a little longer than I should’ve. I tend to carry art making pretty far, so I’m always surprised I’m not deranged by now.

You mentioned that the record will be “the last Old Earth record for a while”. Can you put us out of our misery and expand upon this? Are we talking a refreshing break? Indefinite hiatus? Do you have any other projects lined up?

“Indefinite hiatus” is probably the best way to describe it. This project was a vital place to work out existential concerns, but my spiritual practice has developed to a point where I don’t need to put it into music as much. Sometimes the line between solitary art making and self-absorption gets thin or moves… I just feel a call to be in more immediate service to others. I’ve been thinking that I more or less made the point I wanted to make with it, and it took me to a lot of unexpected places.

I’m still finishing the things I’ve committed to, like some local performances and a little tour in the summer. I’m not rushing out of this, as it’s my life’s work and deserves my respect.

Having proven to myself that I can write cohesive long-form pieces, I’m now excited about writing songs that stand alone, and to see how much ground I can cover in shorter running times. I have about 7 songs in varying degrees of finish, and the idea is to work on them slowly, which is a pattern of concentration I’m not used to. Also, I’m about to record a film score… When all that’s done, who knows? It’s not like I’m quitting music altogether.

Lay For June was originally scheduled for release on the 1st February, the day of Imbolc. Our review had a stab at ascertaining the relevance, but would you care to explain what the day means to you and the album?

Tying release dates with pagan holidays has been on my mind for a while, and a celebration of the simultaneous death of winter and birth of spring definitely made sense for this album. You did an exceptional job of talking about the relevance. I think you summed it up so poetically that people should refer to the review!

There’s been a growing interest in mysticism and occult knowledge for a long time, and I’m all for it. What’s wrong with viewing the planet and its inhabitants as sacred? Old Earth has always been very matriarchal, putting intuition, emotion, creativity, and a search for wisdom first. It’s about trying to ask good questions. A lot of things that took our ancient ancestors generations to discover has been destroyed, so it’s important to go back and share what’s left.

Lay For June was recorded in one take, with only the vocals overdubbed, which seems such a vital part of the sound. How much do you find things changing as you’re recording? Did the final take surprise you in any way?

Yes, single takes are definitely a vital part of the sound. I love the sense of struggle that just doesn’t show up any other way. It’s not trying to be perfect. The last song wouldn’t sound the same had I not played the entire record leading up to it, you know? It almost wouldn’t mean as much. The content on this one was especially personal and draining, and I think it would’ve been bad for me to do some of those songs over and over again.

Things don’t change much while recording because I rehearse a lot beforehand, and am focused on what I want to get done while I’m there. You won’t catch me fucking around on a phone. I’m really into how tight musicians had to be 50 or 60 years ago… There’s no faking it 20 minutes in to a 30 minute continuous take, where a single misplaced note could pull the whole thing apart. It’s a fun risk, somewhat of an ordeal, filled with moments of doubt and confidence, drifting between being lost in the music and an inner dialogue, wondering if the performance is take-worthy, should I start over, is the engineer about to punch in and say something isn’t working, what’s the next song, how far out of tune is the guitar, dare I fix it mid-take, all while trying to appreciate the moment and enjoy how special it is to be in a nice studio, recording with someone who is very good at what they do and believes in the work… I forgot a few guitar parts here and there, but also ended up making a few things up on the spot, so it all evened out. I don’t think I could’ve played it noticeably better at the time, and that’s the most I hope for.

The biggest surprise was the amp setup, which was big and loud and a real joy. It definitely affected how I was performing, because I rarely get the opportunity to play guitar at a high enough volume to feel the sound blowing through and around my body. Scott Evans at Antisleep Audio put a lot of thought into the session ahead of time, and I was happy to go with his ideas. This was the first Old Earth album I didn’t mix myself, which really speaks to my trust in Scott. He worked on it in a way that says he’s invested in the project.

I later recorded Ashley Jarrett’s vocals myself, sent the files to Scott, and then it was out of my hands! That was well outside of my comfort zone, but important… Also, it should be stated that Ashley sings like an angel and this record would’ve been lesser without her.

Even in the nebulous category of ‘experimental’ music, I consider your work unconventional. The lyrics, the structure, the sound itself, even the way you often release long songs comprising of several parts. Do you have any image of a listener in mind when recording? Or do you just work in the way which compels you?

They’re all based on intuition. The best ones develop unconsciously, indeed from feeling compelled to create. Often the challenge is to get out of the way of what the song wants to be, yet rehearsed enough so that if you’re given one of those fully-formed songs from seemingly out of nowhere, you can do it justice… A sensitivity and trust in the process develops, but it’s never dependable or predictable. I try to make up for that with a lot of time, patience, practice, and consideration. One of the experimental artists I’ve learned the most from is Tim Kinsella. He’s given some great interviews, and I’m paraphrasing here, but he basically said he creates the kind of records he’d like to see exist. That’s so simple and beautiful in intent, and it takes the power away from outside judgement or internal limiting.

Unconventional things make fair comparisons difficult, so how do you even know if you’re missing a mark? And what mark? I’m well aware that most people aren’t going to resonate with what I’m doing, so trends and a hypothetical listener/non-listenership have no impact on the music. Pandering is insulting to the listener in every way… Also, the records never turn out how I hear them in my head, which can be frustrating, but I have to remind myself that that’s just part of the deal too.Lay For June has striking art from Jamie Morgan, and Jennifer Mehigan’s painting on A Wake in the Wells was equally arresting. How do you decide on the artwork for your releases?

Visual art has been a lifelong interest, so I try to pay attention to what’s happening out there. I used to do all the art myself, but as with music, adding another voice can create counterpoint and depth. I usually play around with rough layouts while writing, and that has definitely influenced the songs, titles, and sequencing. You could also say I got a little sick of doing every single step myself, haha. I now see that it was important for me to let that go. I still do the art sometimes, the last one being …until they’re called. As for the mixtapes, I usually google the title in quotes and take an image that fits in some inexplicable way, and is obscure enough that I probably won’t get in trouble. That process is really really fun and full of surprises. It’s asking the collective consciousness for relative imagery.

Jennifer Mehigan’s work was on an art blog, and she was unbelievably giving and humble when I reached out to her… I had most of the songs done by the time I came across the image, and there are numerous reasons why it worked for me. A Wake in the Wells is somewhat centered around a house changing shape and changing hands.

I found Jamie Morgan’s work just checking out Instagram. The roadkill and flowers series is amazing, and she’s always up to something new. Also, she happens to know someone I went to school with, and he connected us. I wish I could’ve given Jennifer and Jamie a million dollars each, they’re both outstanding artists.

7) Finally, could you name four or five acts you find yourself returning to at the moment?

Shopping around Bandcamp recently, I found a wonderful record by You Are Plural called Rabbit Rabbit. I’ve been recommending it a lot lately, and it’s one of the few non-rap things I’ve been listening to.

For people who like things downtuned, plodding, yet catchy and very smart, they should hear Scott Evans’ band Kowloon Walled City. Their recent album release show performance was one of the best metal sets I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a good many over the last 20+ years. Very very inspiring…

I mainly download free legal mixtapes from Hip Hop TXL and dig through 40 garbage songs for the 10 good ones. I’ve been doing it for years and have refined a great collection from their series. That’s what’s always in my headphones.

Also counting down the days until Gucci gets released, anticipating a new prolific flow of his music and opportunities to see him perform again. Once I saw him on my birthday!

You can buy Lay For June now from the Old Earth Bandcamp page, along with the rest of his discography. Read our review here.

Photos by Scott Evans, apart from the silhouette image, which is by Adam Ryan Morris 

The post Interview: Old Earth, Part II appeared first on Various Small Flames.

So when we heard they we putting out The Most Beautiful Place on Earth / Commercial Music, a split release with fellow Floridians Yikes on their own label Viridian Sounds and the excellent It Takes Time Records (who put out this from Boosegumps), we were excited. So excited in fact we decided to ask them some questions about it.

So, Naps/Yikes…Why did you decide to put out a split release with Yikes/Naps?

Ryan: There are a ton of great bands from Tallahassee that we could’ve done a split with, but I think at least for me Yikes was an obvious choice — we have a lot of love for their musical endeavors, both in and out of Yikes, they’re great people, and they had a lot of great songs that I was really interested in producing.
Katryn: We want their coolness to rub off on us, that’s the true end goal here.
Laura: They’re the bee’s knees.
Jeremy: We’ve played so many shows with them and their songs are so good it feels like a privilege to release ours alongside theirs. They’re the goodest boys.
Yikes: Because they’re our talented Tallahassee homies! Also we love Naps because they helped yikes get a lot of shows when we were just starting out and our sounds mesh well together.

The first single, ‘Social Skills’, is something of a departure from the sound on You Will Live in a Cool Box, is this a sign of things to come on the record?

Ryan: This new EP is a different type of record than our first one was for sure — a little less representative of our live show but maybe a little more realized in terms of where we could take things. But I would say it reflects a different side of the band rather than an intentional departure from where we were at when we recorded Cool Box. We just got into the studio to start working on our full-length and I don’t know that either EP is more indicative of how that’ll end up sounding than the other.
Jeremy: Yeah, in terms of production it’s definitely a huge difference—the first EP was very lo-fi and was recorded full-band. Our side of this split is more assembled of individually or separately recorded tracks—I don’t think all four of us actually play on any one of the songs.
Laura: I think the split is just one version of the way we want to hear our songs, a version that wouldn’t lend itself well in our live setup.

What are the prevalent themes on The Most Beautiful Place on Earth / Commercial Music?

Ryan: I didn’t think of You Will Live In A Cool Box as a break-up record when we were making it, but it centered a lot on the experience of falling out of love and feeling kind of out of step with the world as a consequence of that experience. I think The Most Beautiful Place on Earth to me is partially about having that out of step feeling even when the variable of love loss is removed.
Yikes: The most frequent theme on the split is probably insecurity, social anxiety and getting used to adult relationships.
Katryn: The song I wrote on the split is actually the first song I had ever written, and it’s also about falling out of love and how much it sucks to be stuck in close proximity to someone who has hurt you, which is definitely a very prevalent theme in a lot of what I’ve written for Naps thus far. Stanley and I recorded it two and a half years ago, before Naps even existed, and it was our first time really hanging out and also how we became friends! We went to a party later that night and made a bloodless blood pact to be friends forever. Sorry this isn’t super related to the question but it’s a cute story so YOU’RE WELCOME.
Laura: Why wasn’t I a part of this bloodless blood pact?
Katryn: Because you are the queen of my life and I am the Vice President of the Laura fan club so I think it goes without saying that we are never going to not be friends, you fool!

The release is being put out by It Takes Time Records, as well as Naps’ own Viridian Sounds. Would you like to explain how the partnership with It Takes Time came about?

Ryan: Jordan from It Takes Time actually got in contact with us way back in 2015 about putting out Cool Box, but we weren’t able to go through with it in the end because of scheduling reasons — we ended up just doing it ourselves so that we’d have tapes to sell on tour, and that’s how Viridian ended up getting started. We still really wanted to work with ITT, plus they put out a bunch of great stuff in the time between our two releases, so we hit Jordan up when we were working on the new stuff.
Yikes: Stanley said he had the plug and he delivered.

The single is also being released on a new digital single imprint of Viridian Sounds called Lavender Sounds. What can people expect of this new venture?

Ryan: Lavender Sounds is an idea that came out of my love for single-oriented music, especially older twee imprints from the 80’s and 90’s that put out an enormous amount of great pop music on 7” and flexidisc singles. It’s still in the early stages of being a thing, but ultimately we’d like to be able to use it to foster an artistic community that can interact by contributing to this ongoing collection of music.

Could you describe Naps in three words?
http://tinyurl.com/ztux95q

What is Naps’ spirit animal? Why do you say so?

Orca Whale because of their humble power and compassion.

If you could arrange to put Naps on a split release with any other band (alive or dead) then who would it be?

Beat Happening mainly because I know Ryan loves them and they are definitely a noticeable influence on naps

In your humble opinion, who is the best band ever to arise from Tallahassee?

T-Pain

Finally, could you name five acts that we’d be fools not to listen to?

-Poster (Tampa)
-Swept (Tampa)
-Woolbright (Davie)
–Honeyuck (Tallahasse)
-Annacrusis (Tallahassee)
-Souljaboytellem.com

Could you describe Yikes in three words?

Ryan: Tite spicy memes
Laura: what I want
Jeremy: Double Bacon Cheese
Katryn: Stephen Joseph Malkmus

What is Yikes’ spirit animal? Why do you say so?

Ryan: Yikes’ spirit animal is an exeggutor coz they have many faces. And they love plants.
Laura: A porcupine – yikes! look out for those spikes
Jeremy: A Dry Bones from the Super Mario series— dry, skeletal, and almost obliviously cool
Katryn: Stephen Joseph Malkmus

If you could arrange to put Yikes on a split release with any other band (alive or dead) then who would it be?

Ryan: The Brian Jonestown Massacre
Laura: Why?
Jeremy: Deerhunter
Katryn: Stephen Joseph Malkmus

In your humble opinion, who is the best band ever to arise from Tallahassee?

Ryan: Hmm, there’s a few directions you could go with this. I feel like the obvious lol answer is Creed, and the obvious legit answer is T-Pain… that being said almost anyone who is involved in the scene here will tell you that Ex-Breathers is the greatest Tallahassee band, which is pretty much objectively the right answer.
Laura: I’m a huge fan of Lauren Morgan’s voice, who used to be in USA-Holes from Tally before she started up SALES in Orlando. Also Cleats <3
Katryn: Ex-Breathers are the most talented sweethearts, and there are a lot of other great Tallahassee bands worth mentioning too, like Night Witch, Nostradogmus, and Blemish!
Jeremy: Yeah Ex-Breathers is literally the best band in the entire world. Shouts out also to Echo Base, Lingua Franca, orangesoda, Capital 6, Silt, Surface to Air Missive, Melt Channel, too many to list honestly, and Katryn covered my other favorites already.

Finally, could you name five acts that we’d be fools not to listen to?
Ryan: Future, Young Thug, Teen Suicide,
Laura: GRIMES!!
Jeremy: To pick just five right now…….. Carly Rae Jepsen, BOOSEGUMPS, JANK, Long Neck, Kississippi.
Katryn: NEW FLORIST NEW PORCHES NEW JAWBREAKER REUNION NEW TALL FRIEND <3

You can pre-order The Most Beautiful Place on Earth / Commercial Music via It Takes Time Records or Viridian Sounds.

The post Interview: Naps & Yikes appeared first on Various Small Flames.

Take It Forever plays like the manifesto of someone who doesn’t know all the answers but finds meaning in asking the questions, the words not of a revolutionary or prophet but an ordinary man striving to make life extraordinary, just as it should be.

Since Sendrowitz has continued to make great music, we endeavoured to come up with some new questions and pick his brains all over again. I think you’ll agree he did a marvellous job of answering them.

Hello Brian, thanks for speaking with us again! How does it feel to have released Take It Forever? Is it a milestone you are proud of?

It’s my pleasure! I really appreciate the work you guys do with Wake the Deaf. As someone who puts a lot into songwriting and lyrics in particular, I’m grateful that there are people who take to time to listen, dig into themes, and approach our music with a depth of thought and understanding. This record definitely feels like some sort of milestone, and maybe more than usual. I think you mentioned in your review that it felt like a culmination of ideas, and for me it was in the sense that I wanted to address very specific themes, articulate ideas as directly as possible, and then move on from them. My resolution for 2016 is “no more songs about the internet.” I had started writing about the subject way back with our song “Teenage Anthem for the Drunken Boat”, and have revisited it frequently. There’s been such a massive shift in our culture and the way we communicate. It feels generation-defining and to not address it in my art would have felt inauthentic to me. With Take It Forever I wanted to make an entire record dealing with the sort of questions I’m always asking myself: where does art fit into our culture now? What place does music have in my life, as both an artist and a fan? In a way it’s sort of a break-up album, in the sense that it chronicles my coming to terms with letting go of my own careerist ambitions, and also with the concept of music careerism in general. But it also tells the story of me finding my way back to a purely creative motivation, which is how this whole thing started anyway.

You have been making music as Beat Radio for over ten years now. How has your music changed since the early days? And are your reasons for making it still the same?

Looking back on the 5 records we’ve made with Beat Radio, I feel like each one was its own unique adventure with different motivations, goals, and perspective. It usually involves some sort of self-imposed set of rules. For this one I knew I wanted to create a more traditional “band” sounding record, guitar-driven and using primarily organic sounds. I think the earlier albums were more escapist in nature, lyrically. Songs were always a sort of fantasy world I could create and control, and exist in. The last record dealt with more personal subject matter but still mainly in an impressionistic way. Take It Forever is our most direct and autobiographical album. It’s also the first time since our first album that I had a band to rehearse and develop the songs prior to recording them, which changes the feel quite a bit and was a lot of fun. To answer the last part of your question, I think my reason for making records on a fundamental level has always been the same. I have ideas I want to express, and the process of writing songs and ushering them into existence is joyful for me. It gets me out of bed in the morning.

Point three of your Advice For Artists list suggests making your ‘peace with the capitalist yardsticks that you thought would signify creative success’. The idea is echoed in the opening song too, taking stories from television, being haunted by the resulting ambition etc., basically being a prisoner to dreams of greatness. So, assuming you have vaulted the problem (or are at least in the process of jumping), do you attempt to measure your success in any other way? Are there any goals (no matter how small/ludicrous) which drive you on?

Ha, I think to say I’m “in the process of jumping” is probably most accurate, if I’m totally honest. I read somewhere recently that when you’re giving advice, you’re really talking to your former self. I’m including that advice for artists list in the artwork for the new record because I sort of consider it a part of the same body of work. Looking back, I think I kind of believed it was too late to achieve a traditional version of music industry “success” before this band even started. The second song I wrote for Beat Radio was “Mexico” which contained the lyric “the dream I had was beautiful, but I let it get away from me.” For a long time though, I secretly believed that there was some mystical equation or weird alchemy that could bring me to that dream of success – touring, quitting my day job, acclaim and recognition, etc. Like, if I could reach a certain level of honesty in myself, and openness, I could magically overcome all the obstacles in my path. Who knows, maybe that’s still true. It’s strange to admit that now though, because it’s in contrast to so many things I believe on a rational level. We all know that you can’t equate commercial success with artistic success, but on some level we all seem to do it anyway. Like, the Bruno Mars song “Uptown Funk” just won the Grammy for record of the year. Do we know anyone who really believes that is the best record of 2015? I know a lot of musicians and we’re all generally conflicted about this stuff in one way or another. And I know so many brilliant musicians who exist almost entirely outside of the dimension of not only the Grammys but also Pitchfork, Stereogum, Noisey, and everything else.

I guess part of the manifesto of this album is to communicate that it’s okay, and it doesn’t mean the songs are any less meaningful, important, and valuable. It’s just a different dimension. In its own way, maybe a creative life outside of that world can be more authentic and valuable because it’s not compromised by the pressure of capitalism. Either way, the creative process is its own reward, and individuality needs to be celebrated. I believe our culture depends on that. Humanity depends on that. So I measure success by the way a record makes me feel when I hear it, and the degree to which I was able to express the idea or emotion that I set out to express. I’m motivated by a desire to make something beautiful, and feel blessed every day that I have the opportunity to create and share things that may inspire others in some small way. I want to build a great body of work and a legacy. I want my sons to know a father who stayed true to a creative vision, and worked at it. I want them to know what that means.

I’ve recently read Quicksand by Steve Toltz, a rather hyperactive novel in which a teacher has written a book to help creative people. There are lots of quotable one-liners, but one really stuck out. “We make art because being alive is a hostage situation in which our abductors are silent and we cannot even intuit their demands”. Do you identify with this? Would you say your creative process exists in such a desperate, awfully alive situation?

That’s a really powerful image. I think that it gets down to the heart of faith – the question of whether or not we can intuit our abductor’s demands. I’d like to believe that we can intuit their demands, and art is one of the ways we are able to do so. And maybe that’s what the author is implying? Or at least, maybe the implication is that we should ask the question? Art doesn’t feel like a stab in the dark for me. It feels like a healing, or a transcendence of the pain of that uncertainty.

You have a job and a family so this question will probably make you laugh, but I’m interested distractions from working creatively and was wondering if you find a particular thing gets in the way of making music? Like, besides general life stuff? I’ve purposefully not signed up to the internet at the library because I’m genuinely 5x more productive without it. David Foster Wallace lived without a TV in his home. Are there any specific things you have to avoid or deny yourself in order to make musical progress?

The internet is a big thing. It’s always there and it’s irresistible. Netflix is a big thing. Being married too – I love spending time with my wife, and it’s very easy to crash on the couch with her at the end of the day. I find that to stay on task the only thing that works for me is to give myself projects, set goals and a timeline for myself, and commit to a schedule. I write it down in my notebook and do my best to commit to it. I used to be much more manic about it, I’ve gotten better at finding the balance. Also – involving collaborators in the process is always helpful for me, because I feel a sense of responsibility to do my part and send them mixes to listen to, review, give feedback on, etc. The keeps momentum and drives a project forward.

Right, I don’t want to get too deep here but there’s something I often wonder and although it’s vague to the point of rhetorical I want to ask you because the album pokes at similar themes. Is the dissatisfaction and emptiness you battle right across Take It Forever a modern thing? Or is it just the by-product of being aware of our own mortality? I mean, do you think our parents/grandparents felt the same way we do?

I think there is something about the sort of dissatisfaction we experience that is unique to our time. I tried to describe that in the title track, with the lines: “Everyone is casting spells, and building myths around themselves. All we want is everything, and all we find is suffering.” It’s funny we have all these great tools to allow us communicate more easily than ever before, but people are probably more self-absorbed in general than ever before. I’m not religious in any dogmatic sense, but I have embraced and incorporated Buddhist philosophy into my life over the last few years, and that has changed my perspective a lot. I’ve become more aware of my own need for validation. I think every artist has that. Most people in general do. Part of that is the human condition but it’s also exaggerated by a modern need for instant gratification, and a feeling of lack. I think about my grandfather, who for the sake of brevity I will describe as a man who basically had the personality of Gene Hackman’s character in The Royal Tenenbaums. I can’t imagine him checking his Instagram to see how many likes his selfie got. I can’t imagine him giving a damn about any of that. I admire that, but then here I am, carefully curating my personal brand. It’s sort of hilarious. I guess the key is to keep a sense of humor about it, and not take anything too seriously. Nothing matters, everything matters. “How strange it is to be anything at all.”

I asked this last time but it was long enough ago to ask again. Could you name 4-5 bands you are enjoying at the moment? Who do you find yourself turning to?

I was really taken with Hop Along’s Painted Shut LP, and also Sufjan’s Carrie and Lowell. I was a little late getting to listen to Joanna Newsom’s Divers, but got that recently and it’s really something to behold. I dig that Nap Eyes record that everyone is talking about also. They remind me of a band my friend and old guitar player/producer Phil Jimenez produced called The Piltones, back in 2002 or so. I’m also co-producing a new record right now for my friend Tim Lannen, formerly of The Diggs, so I’m pretty engrossed in that. It’s turning out to be amazing.

You can buy Take It Forever now via Beat Radio’s Bandcamp page. Read our review here.

The post Interview: Beat Radio, Part II. appeared first on Various Small Flames.

The album is out later this month, and Jeremy was kind enough to speak with us in anticipation of its release. 

1. Hi Jeremy, thanks for talking with us! How’s life in North Carolina this time of year?

Hi! Life is going pretty good right now. Where I live is pretty quiet and it’s been a little cold so I’ve had some time to reflect lately.

2. As someone from the UK, whose knowledge of certain parts of the US comes almost exclusively from music and books, the album seems evocatively American. Does the landscape and its people have a conscious impact on your writing, or is it just part of who you are and therefore shines through in your songs?

That’s a great question. Actually, I’m sure somewhere subconsciously it may… But I think it’s just a part of who I am. Where and how I write changes from time to time and I’m sure that the scenery and my experiences here have some sort of impact on my writing on a deeper level.3. The album, Shadows, is a great example of giving and withholding information to create a narrative flow. Do you work out the fully fleshed-out stories in your head? Or do you leave it up to the listener to create the narratives that exist beyond the moments captured in your lyrics?

No, I don’t ever write with a concept in mind. Sometimes it comes out (lyrically) in pieces and I have to figure out what and where certain things are coming from (like therapy) or a puzzle… I like the listener to create their own narratives and take what they will from what I have written. I use a lot metaphor in my lyrics but yet I still try to express a reality (my reality) to the listener. But I write it purposely in a way that the listener can get their own deeper meaning from the songs and still relate… If that makes sense?

4. The songs are often incredibly intimate and confessional, sharing thoughts that many people (especially men in certain communities) would usually feel they had to keep to themselves. Do you find it difficult to share these songs with other people? Do you ever consider the positive, comforting impact they could have on the listener?

With this new album Shadows. Yes and yes. It was very difficult. It is the most personal record I’ve ever written. I wanted people to hear it though and I felt the listener could take something positive from all the loss or darkness that this album conveys. Shadows was recorded over two years ago and during the process my marriage of 13 years ended, my mother passed away and I have tried to move on and all of this change and the struggles are openly shared throughout this record.

5. This is your third full-length album. How do you feel your music has evolved as you’ve gotten older? And do you think it will change drastically in the future? I mean, should we expect a Father John Misty-style reinvention?

Well, I definitely believe that all the changes and different experiences (divorce, death, birth, life in general, change, kids) that come with age have shaped my sound into what it is. I’m sure my music will change a lot more because nothing stays the same. Life and music would be quite boring if it did. I am currently finishing up with another record titled Collapse and it touches on some really personal experiences and issues as well. I don’t think I will go as drastic as “Father John Misty” but who knows?6. Anna-Lynne Williams features on several of the tracks and ‘Open’ is one of her poems that you’ve adapted into a song. How did this collaboration come about? Is she someone you’ve known a long time?

I’ve been a huge fan of hers for awhile. Since her previous band Trespassers William back in the 90s. I was fortunate enough to become friends with her a few years back and after we both contributed songs to a Damien Jurado project for the blog Slowcoustic. I reached out to her to sing on my last album When Will You Go and she loved the songs and we became mutual fans of each other’s work. So I knew I wanted her to sing on Shadows too. One day I had finished up the music for a song and I had the vocal pattern down but no lyrics yet… I just happened to see Anna-Lynne had posted a new poem titled “open” and knew instantly that those were the words I had been searching for. I love that poem and it feels personal to me and I feel that I made it my own. She is a great writer.

7. Finally, could you recommend 4/5 bands or artists you’re into at the moment? They can be brand new or long dead, smash hits or garage-recorded hidden gems.

The post Interview: Jeremy Squires appeared first on Various Small Flames.

wrote about her album  back in May

“The track[s] gives the image of a distant lover missing her companion, staring at a sky full of shimmering stars and streaks and cosmic dust, impossibly the very same sky as the one above the person she is missing.”

We were lucky enough to ask Heeyoon a few questions about the working with It Takes Time for the reissue and Boosegumps as a whole.

Jon: Hi Heeyoon, thanks for talking to us. How is life in New Jersey at this time of year?

Heeyoon: Hi, Wake the Deaf! Life in New Jersey at this time of year is pretty overwhelming! Well, it’s always overwhelming and fast-paced since I live outside of New York City, but it’s also quite beautiful when you take a break from everything and watch the leaves start to change colors.

First off, I have to ask – what’s the story behind the name? I’ll admit to wanting it to be an R.L. Stine/Fox Kids reference, although Urban Dictionary suggests ‘boosegumps’ has its own meaning.

It IS an R.L Stine reference. I originally gave myself this moniker because at the time, I was making haunted house soundtracks for fun. I wanted a name that was spooky yet kind of silly. The name Boosegumps just stuck, even after I stopped making Halloween music, mostly because I’m really bad at naming things.

How’s it feel to be releasing on cassette with the guys at It Takes Time Records? And do you want to say anything about the collection of B-sides that are going to be included?

It feels really good to be working with It Takes Time Records! I feel really comfortable with working with Jordan. He’s been really supportive through the whole process.

I decided to include the B-Sides after Jordan asked me if I had any unreleased songs I’d like to include on the tape. Well, after the release of “:)” I had recorded some fun experimental stuff that I had hidden away or had uploaded to SoundCloud. I thought it would be really nice to put it on the other side of “:)” I just want people to get sad with me on Side A but then groove with me when they flip the tape.Your music falls into a category (“bedroom pop”) that is pretty prolific at the moment. Do you feel an affinity with other bedroom recording artists? Or is it frustrating to be put in a box? Do you feel it’s even a genre at all, or rather just young people sharing their homemade work a little wider than previously possible?

I’m not sure if I’d call “bedroom pop” a genre because there’s many different genres within the category, but I consider it a broad tag used to categorize some homemade recordings. Personally, I feel comfortable being categorized as “bedroom pop” and playing music with other bedroom recording artists. I definitely feel less pressure as a home-recording artist. It’s just nicer and easier to record whatever I want, however I want and to release it whenever I want, all without me having to leave my warm bed.

As a kind of follow on to that question – what would you list as your biggest influences? Do think you are inspired by any musicians/writers/artists in particular? Or do you draw upon personal experiences more?

Musically, I’m really influenced by different artists at different points of my life. Currently, I’m heavily into Haruomi Hosono and Yellow Magic Orchestra, who are Japanese electronic, synth-pop artists. I’m also really influenced by R&B, even though you might not hear it in my songs. Aside from music, I tend to find inspiration from my friends, my dreams and personal experiences. Also, ever since I got a live band together, I’ve really inspired by the people I make music with. My live band, which is Neil Torman, Andrew Gerber and Adam Kenter, are really talented musicians and I haven’t told them yet, but they inspire me to become a better musician.

Your songs deal with very personal issues, detailing the struggles and anxieties many young people will recognise. Would you say you record the songs as a way to help yourself, or do you have other people in mind when writing? How do you feel about making other people’s lives that little bit easier/better with your music?

I’m not very good at telling people how I feel, so I feel the need to express my feelings through music. Writing music for me is like writing in my diary. It’s a way for me to write down my thoughts and reflect on my experiences. I mostly write songs as a way to help myself but it feels good to know that my songs are helping others as well. I feel less lonely knowing that others can relate.

Finally, could you name 4-5 acts you think we should know about at the moment? They can be old or new, obscure or huge, whatever you find yourself listening to.

Haruomi Hosono

Homeshake

Brittle Brian

Good Morning

Old Maybe

You can pre-order on tape right now from the It Takes Time Records Bandcamp page ready for its release on October 31st. 

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