Part 2
Once you've started, how does the work gradually emerge?
NB: I think starting is the hardest part. Once we get going songs usually emerge fairly quickly. Mel will usually bring a verse and chorus to practice and the band will build the arrangement from there.
AB: It’s a layering process. We’ll usually start with a skeleton of a song that Mel and/or Neil have written, and then we’ll discuss their ideas for the feel of the song in rehearsal and try out some ideas for drums and bass.
First we usually write a version that can be played live first with just the 4 of us and then once that’s solid, we go into arrangement mode, adding in colour on additional instruments.
Sometimes those additional parts are fully prepared before we go into the studio, like the piano part on “Witness,” and other times we write as we’re recording, like the vocal harmonies on verse 2 of “Tommy.”
Many writers have claimed that as soon as they enter into the process, certain aspects of the narrative are out of their hands. Do you like to keep strict control over the process or is there a sense of following things where they lead you?
NB: I think it’s a mixture of both. We stick to the process but allow ourselves the freedom to follow ideas if it seems like it could better the song.
An example of this is “Ouija”. I think when Mel first brought the song to the band the idea was to make it feel more like another song on the record called “Monument”.
Aurora pitched the idea of making it more like a Neko Case country song and it ended up taking it in a whole new direction. Instead of it being a slower sad song, we made it a fast sad country song!
AB: For us it’s very much a ‘try it and see if it sticks’ process. We absolutely follow our noses while writing.
Often, while writing, new ideas and alternative roads will open themselves up, pulling and pushing the creator in a different direction. Does this happen to you, too, and how do you deal with it? What do you do with these ideas?
Mel: I really enjoy collaboration. I don’t think one person has all the answers ever. I cherish this.
NB: This often happens where Mel will come in with a song and the band will move it in a different direction. Sometimes it works and sometimes we go too off base and have to pull it back toward the original idea for the song.
FM: There have been a ton of moments where we need to ‘split the difference’ and find a way to compromise and make everyone happy (if possible).
AB: We’re not at all afraid of arguing with each other while writing. You need that level of comfort to create effectively and we do all genuinely love creating together.
There are many descriptions of the creative state. How would you describe it for you personally? Is there an element of spirituality to what you do?
Mel: It’s more therapeutic for me than spiritual. Writing songs is a great way to find peace with something whether it be a traumatic experience or a really beautiful memory you just want to encapsulate.
AB: For me not so much, though I can completely lose track of time if I get into the zone writing, on piano especially. It’s less spiritual and more of a free-flowing exercise for me, often just for the fun of it. Like “oooo what happens if I put this here or make this sound next?”
Especially in the digital age, the writing and production process tends towards the infinite. What marks the end of the process? How do you finish a work?
NB and Mel: The end of the process is when every band member is happy with the song or album.
AB: Sometimes timelines dictate when a song is done, but for this album, because the production process was so delayed because of COVID, we were able to take the time we wanted to make adjustments. We just eventually got to a point where none of us wanted to add or change anything.
Once a piece is finished, how important is it for you to let it lie and evaluate it later on? How much improvement and refinement do you personally allow until you're satisfied with a piece? What does this process look like in practise?
Mel: If we need to come back to something later on for its benefit, we will. Our last record Mercy Works has a song called “Primeval” that was one of the first songs the band had ever worked on.
After working on it for a bit we shelved it. A year later we started working on it again and changed the whole arrangement. Sometimes you don’t have all the answers for a song right away. You need to solve some problems in other songs and do some other work and then come back with that experience.
NB: We usually refine a song until everyone in the band is happy. It’s pretty important for us to document the writing process as it’s happening. After practice we’ll listen back to demos and evaluate what we like and what we don’t like. In some cases this involves fixing musical parts and in others it’s just the structure that needs to be fixed.
AB: For this album, so many of the songs were already very ‘road tested,’ so we had the chance to really understand ‘what the songs are’ by the time we brought them to the studio, even if the studio arrangements weren’t 100% finished.
What's your take on the role and importance of production, including mixing and mastering for you personally? How involved do you get in this?
Mel: I really love how this record turned out. Mixing for me is the scariest part of the whole process. Everything can sound one way in the recording process and then it might change during mixing. Sometimes you can get married to the premix and it causes some problems. When I get a mix back I might reference the premix and ask for some of those moments to come back if I really liked them whether it was a tone or a sound. It can change so fast so knowing what you want is super important.
NB: I think production is incredibly important to the success of a record. A good mix or a helpful producer can change the trajectory of a record and turn a “pretty good” record into a “great” record. That being said, at the end of the day good songs are what matters. Some records are recorded on cassette decks but the songs are so good that they’re known as classics today (eg: Guided By Voices' Bee Thousand or Pavement’s Slanted and Enchanted).
We were our own producers for this record so we were very involved in every aspect of it.
AB: All 4 of us were very involved in this throughout the whole process. But hiring the right people to work with in post-production (which we did, thanks Leon and Noah!) is hugely important. A lot of thought went into getting just the right sound from each instrument in the mixing process.
After finishing a piece or album and releasing something into the world, there can be a sense of emptiness. Can you relate to this – and how do you return to the state of creativity after experiencing it?
Mel: I have never had that feeling before of being drained or I gave it everything and I am now emptied. I usually have the next record percolating so by the time the record comes out, I have a lot of material for the next. It might not all be included in the next record but you get there by collaborating, having at least a small visual or music realm you think the next record will be moving into. I don’t like to make the same record twice, rush a record or keep talking about the same things. I get easily bored with myself. (laughs)
NB: We’re usually thinking about the next album as the current album is being recorded. I think this band is an endless pit of ideas so I rarely feel empty after releasing a record.
AB: We’re already writing the next album! And we all love playing live so much that that can really become our creative focus.
Creativity can reach many different corners of our lives. Do you personally feel as though writing a piece of music is inherently different from something like making a great cup of coffee? What do you express through music that you couldn't or wouldn't in more 'mundane' tasks?
Mel: Making music for me is therapy so it makes me feel better. I don't like to make music when I’m in a bad state of mind, anxious or feeling seasonally depressed. I need to feel good and comfortable or I cannot create. I won’t even force myself to because I find that to be counterproductive and I probably won’t like the outcome. I’d rather rest, feel better and give myself time.
NB: Yes, I find making music very different from making a cup of coffee. We labour weeks and sometimes months over one song and once that song is put out into the world it can potentially last for the rest of humanity, unlike a cup of coffee. I think making music taps into my subconscious in a way that no other task allows me to do.
