BGS 5+5: Garrett Kato

Artist: Garrett Kato
Hometown: Born in Port Coquitlam, BC; current home is Byron Bay, Australia
Latest Album: s. hemisphere EP
Nickname: “Shoji is my middle name, some crew call me that”

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

I think it would have to be Bob Dylan as cliché as that sounds. I feel there’s only a handful of artists that can hit you in the guts with lyrics and melody. He’s probably the master of storytelling and symbolism in song.

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

This was probably one of favourite moments in life. I was supporting Damien Rice in Australia and was a big fan of his work. I hadn’t seen him much and figured he’d be too busy to see my set. I played to a beautiful and attentive audience, and once I left the stage, out of the darkness he emerged to say he enjoyed the set. Later that night, we went busking in the streets of Brisbane. It was something I won’t soon forget.

What other art forms — literature, film, dance, painting, etc — inform your music?

I’m a big fan of most A24 films at the moment. They always have such intensity and mystery to them highly recommend. As far as for my music, I’d say I draw more from conversations in real life or stories I hear from people I know, and love that, for some reason, it seems to seep in more often when I’m writing.

What’s the toughest time you ever had writing a song?

I think it’s almost every time. Each song comes with its own set of challenges and problems that are particular to the message or music. I find it the hardest to write when I’m spending too much time on social media. It really sucks the life out of being creative, and you end up just worrying about what everyone else is doing.

If you had to write a mission statement for your career, what would it be?

Try to give some comfort to someone who may be feeling lost or alone.


Photo credit: Jess Parkes

BGS 5+5: Luke Sital-Singh

Artist name: Luke Sital-Singh
Hometown: Los Angeles, California (via Brighton, UK)
Latest album: A Golden State

What’s your favorite memory from being on stage?

The second time I played Glastonbury Festival I was opening one of the major stages and I was pretty nervous about it. I think I feared that no one would bother leaving their tents that early in the morning to come to the stage. And sure enough as I began to play there was only a small huddle of people and to top it off it started raining so I knew no one would come out. I just sighed, closed my eyes and got on with it. After a few songs I dared look up to see if anyone else has turned up and was so startled to find the crowd had grown as far as the eye could see! I was nearly thrown back by the shock of it. It was such a great feeling I don’t think I’ll ever forget that moment.

What rituals do you have, either in the studio or before a show?

I don’t really like rituals in that way. Especially when touring. For me each day can be so much like the last that I find it more exciting to try and find differences between each gig. I’m not sure if I intentionally do this but I definitely don’t like to do exactly the same thing each night before I go on. I’m just not a routine kind of person.

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

I’d have to say David Bazan is my biggest influence and has had the biggest impact on me as a songwriter, especially lyrically. He manages to write so wisely and honestly about some big subjects, like having faith, losing faith, what it means to be human, about politics, etc., and also the smaller, everyday stuff like marriage, having kids, etc., and most masterfully of all, he writes in a way that shows you that all those subjects are intertwined and interconnected. I hope to write songs that are as wise and open as his are.

What other art forms — literature, film, dance, painting, etc — inform your music?

I’m a big poetry fan. I steal all my best ideas from poems. Especially Billy Collins. I wish to write songs like he writes poems. Accessible, insightful, human. I also love the frame of mind poetry puts me in. They slow me down. There’s no point reading in a poem quickly whilst doing something else. For me it’s like a meditative position. I write my music with that in mind. I’m sure people have my music on in the background and whatever. but I hope my songs help you slow down.

What was the first moment that you knew you wanted to be a musician?

Now technically I was already a musician at this point but I played a school concert when I was 15 or so and that was the first time I knew I wanted to pursue music as a career for the rest of my life. I was playing solo. A cover of a Damien Rice song and Jeff Buckley’s “Hallelujah.” At that point in my musical journey I knew I was pretty good but I still hadn’t done that many shows. This performance was the first time I really experience the silence. It’s a very specific silence, a noise that only an audience of people can make. When they are all tuned into the same thing. It’s an intoxicating feeling when you know you’ve got them in the palm of your hand. I got addicted to it that night and I have remained so ever since.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2PtdpFWTZBTG4NZgS1mobc?si=pWzZUCkhTuSrNdB0vWCO9Q


Photo credit: Hattie Ellis

Reacting Melodically: A Conversation with Lisa Hannigan

Lisa Hannigan got her start on the stage with Damien Rice, providing vocals for 2002’s massively successful O and growing more confident in her voice and her words ever since. Hannigan’s 2008 debut, Sea Sew, was met with extensive acclaim and a slew of award nominations in her home country of Ireland, and its 2011 follow-up, Passenger, made for more compelling evidence that Hannigan’s haunting vocals find their best fit at center stage.

It’s been five years since Hannigan released any new music and, while she struggled with the writing process, she’s quick to interject that her latest work, the 11-song collection At Swim, isn’t that depressing, by the way. She’s right — one of the things that makes At Swim such a strong effort is its capacity to soar from stirring highs to paralyzing apathy and back again.

I read in an interview from a couple of years ago that you had a favorite song to play live — “Little Bird” — but that it was originally kind of a struggle for you to play in front of people. What makes any particular song difficult to play in the live setting, and how does it evolve for you over time?

I think some songs feel a little more raw, really. In the most basic sense, they feel a little more exposing or truthful — just bare. That song, when I first wrote it, I felt a bit exposed singing it. But then I kind of began to enjoy that feeling, in a way. [Laughs] I sort of enjoyed feeling the rawness of it. The heart of the song still conjures up the moment that it was written in. But it doesn’t feel quite as … it doesn’t feel quite as sunburnt. [Laughs]

What is it about that feeling that appeals to you?

When I say that I enjoy that feeling, I think that that song, in particular, for me, was a way into a slightly different approach to songwriting than I had done. I really felt the truthfulness to it. It was actually really freeing and really enjoyable, in a way, and I’ve tried to bring that into the songs on the new record — tried to express things in a bit more of a bare way. I don’t know if anyone would hear them in the way that I feel them when I’m singing. I would say there are a few songs on my new record — at least, I’ve only been playing a few recently — that give me that same feeling and that I just love to sing for people. “Prayer for the Dying” is one; “We the Drowned” is another. I tried to bring that sense of rawness to all the songs on the new record, to an extent.

These are really personal songs, but you worked with a new producer. Tell me about working with Aaron Dessner on this record.

Well, I had been having a bit of a hard time trying to write songs for this record. I finally got off tour from the second record, and I just kind of felt empty or something. I don’t know why, but I didn’t have the feeling that I usually have when I want to write songs. I was feeling a bit down about the whole situation. [Songwriting] is what I do, so when I don’t do it, I feel a bit confused about my purpose in the world. But then I got this email, completely out of the blue, from Aaron, saying just, "My name’s Aaron. I’m in a band called the National." [Laughs] Which I already knew. But it was just this really sweet email saying, "If you want to write together, or you need someone to produce your next record, or whatever — just if you want to get in touch, please do." So we started this lovely correspondence and became musical pen pals. He would send me all these beautiful pieces of music, and I would try to react to them melodically or lyrically or in any way. It was really fun, and it kind of brought back the fun of songwriting that I had so much squashed down with all of my trying so hard and being down about the whole she-bang. It was really a breath of fresh air in the whole slightly stale situation that I had found myself in.

One of the first songs that he sent that I found easy to write to was the song “Aura” on the record. He sent it and it was very fleshed out — this beautiful, rolling piano chord structure. It had this really beautiful feeling of oars and water. It had this calling sensation to it. I remember vividly: I was just folding the washing at home, and I always have my phone recording whatever humming I would be doing. For “Aura,” I just immediately started singing the melody as it ends up, really. It just felt so natural, and the words and everything felt very natural for that piece of music. Every once in a while with me and Aaron, we would have that situation — where it would just be very immediate and sudden, the connection. So that ends up being on the record and the heart of it being very similar to what we hit on initially. I had a sort of kinetic energy, to keep it whole. We kept it pretty much how it was.

It’s so interesting to hear you talk about this because, so often in the past, you’ve worked with other musicians as the outside collaborator coming in and contributing to their records.

In any situation, you always want to serve the song, be it my song or somebody else’s. You’re always trying to find a way of recording a song or approaching a song which kind of leaves it in its wholest form. I don’t think you should mess with things too much. You should kind of let them be what they want to be.

What was really interesting to me about Aaron and the way he wrote is that I would always want to put kind of a lot of lyrical, melodic things [into songs], kind of intertwining. His approach for this record, he says, was that he wanted it to be kind of austere in a way that it would be very, very rich and textured, but melodically somewhat austere. I thought that was a really interesting approach, and I learned a huge amount from him just in the way that he heard things like that. I think you always learn from people when you collaborate, I think, but I learned a huge amount from Aaron. I’m not sure how much he learned from me. [Laughs] Probably very little!

[Laughs] I’m sure that’s not true. Can you tell me about “We the Drowned”? That song jumped out at me from the record.

That song was one of the early ones that I wrote, when I was feeling so lost. Everything I was doing to myself was not in my best interest. I just couldn’t bring myself to set myself right, you know? Even in terms of reading or everything. I just found myself falling into the rabbit hole of not nourishing my brain as much as I wanted to, or should have. I felt really stuck and sad, you know? I felt really down. I started writing a song, the melody, and the words … they were sort of all very much about the idea of self-sabotage and blindly making decisions and doing things without ever seeming to take the wheel — even when you know the wheel is right there. I feel like that is part of being a human being, where you’re approaching life, and you know so much of what we do, and we shy away from people who make us feel uncomfortable and we sort of make decisions that don’t seem to come from a higher part of our brain at all. I was trying to express that sort of blind marching toward the abyss.

Now that you look back at the song and the record, is there a particular aspect or moment you feel you did take the wheel — that you feel most proud of?

I love all of the songs on the record. I think I’m going to sound terrible, because it was such a difficult process for me that, in a way, I’ve never experienced before. I’m really just proud that there’s a record at the end that I love. There were so many times in the process that I just thought, "I don’t think I’m going to make another record. This has been quite painful." I really felt desperately down. The record isn’t that depressing, by the way! It’s not as depressing as I’m making it sound! But the process was very difficult. Every once in a billion, I would write and I would say, "I love that song!" But then, for months, I would not enjoy anything that I was doing. So I really feel proud that, at the end of all of that difficulty, I feel like I’ve learned to keep going. There is a light at the end of the tunnel.

 

For more on the creative process, read our interview with Lori McKenna.


Photo credit: Rich Gilligan

A Place in the Chain of Stories: A Conversation with My Bubba

Named for its two members — My Larsdotter, pronounced “me,” from Sweden and Guðbjörg Tómasdóttir, nicknamed “Bubba,” from Iceland — My Bubba's harmony-centric vocals and minimal instrumentation lend the duo a mesmerizing and timeless quality, one that’s as captivating on a stage as it is a street corner. Their latest record, Big Bad Good, capitalizes on their improvisational capabilities with many numbers that were recorded as they were being written, a process that took place in the studio of producer Shahzad Ismaily and expanded into an 11-song gem released last month on the duo’s label, Cash Only. Turns out, My Bubba is informed by — and even distantly connected to — some of folk’s greats.

When did you first realize that making music together was something that was good and that you wanted to pursue?

My: So that happened pretty much the first day we spent together, which was when Bubba moved into my apartment. I had a room to rent in Copenhagen in Denmark about eight years ago. Bubba was unpacking boxes, and I was doing dishes in the kitchen and I was singing to myself at the same time, and she came up and sort of asked me to sing on the song she was writing — to do a harmony or something. I agreed to do that, but I had never really sung with anyone before, never thought about being in a band even, but I [said], "I think I can do that. I’ll try." So we did, and we immediately had such a good time together. We kept doing that basically every time we were home together and had time to spare. We’d sit down on my couch and Bubba would play guitar and we would just harmonize. Most of the time we’d be humming at the beginning, and then we started writing songs together. It was very immediate, and was pretty much our first interaction.

Bubba: I think My covered the grounds. It was immediate and effortless. Even though we were not trained musicians or anything like that, we both had a very strong relationship with music in our own way. When we met, we liked that we could share that very naturally and create our own music. Of course, a lot has happened since then — this was eight years ago. We say that music came and chose us. Opportunities kept coming at us and we would always say yes to them. It took us on a lot of adventures.

I’ve heard a lot about how quickly you recorded these songs after they were written. Did you approach Big, Bad, Good differently during the recording process than any of your previous work?

Bubba: The first few times that you sing a song, ever, when it’s being born, the song always has a very special feel to it … before you’ve rehearsed it, before you find the exact form of a song. We were very intrigued by exploring, let’s say, if we could capture on the record the songs the first few times that they’d become songs. We went into the studio without even having … I mean we had some ideas, some sketches, in our heads, but no finished songs, and we wrote all of the materials as we were recording.

My: So Goes Abroader, the second record — the one before this — we had a very clear idea of what we wanted to sound like as we were writing it and planning the recording sessions. We ended up very close to that, which we were very happy with, of course. With this one, we wanted to challenge ourselves in the writing process by doing it in the studio and we also wanted to, like Bubba was saying, explore that freshness of a song as it’s being written.

It was all kind of because we had met Shahzad [Ismaily], who produced the record. The first time we met him, we had a jam session during a home night in Iceland with some other musicians — Damien Rice and Sam Amidon and [others]. It was a very fun, creative night and we had a connection with [Ismaily] right away. The next time we met him, he told us about his studio that he had just finished and invited us to come make a record with him, and we said we’d love to, but we didn’t have any new material at the time, so maybe later. He said, "No — you don’t have to have songs. Just come over and we’ll see what happens."

We got used to that idea very quickly and decided it was exactly what we wanted to do that that time. It seemed like the perfect challenge, and especially having had that experience with him collaborating creatively in that way, it seemed like the right thing for us to do at the time. It was great, and we’re very happy with the result.

Bubba: Going into the studio, we had no idea what was going to come out. No expectations. We didn’t even know if we were going to come home with a record.

My: All we came with was some kind of confidence, that working with Shahzad was going to lead to something nice.

I loved something you said about your recent video for album track “Charm.” You called it the CliffNotes to your “unauthorized biography,” and I thought that was an interesting way to describe something you wrote. What made you describe it that way?

My: Well, when they asked me to say something about the song and the video and I thought about the lyrics, most of it was a poem that I wrote several years ago that I’d just wanted to be used in a song. That text, I feel, is a condensed version of my experience of being me. At the same time, it’s not written deliberately to be that. I guess that’s the unauthorized part — it’s kind of semi-subconscious poetry.

You could argue that the title track has a biographical element, too. The lyrics about relatives and ancestry lend a lot to the song. Are you inspired by history, family?

Bubba: I have always been really interested in history and my own history and I think, especially at this age, when you’re finally becoming an adult, I feel that I think a lot about where I come from and where my parents come from and try to learn from their journeys. I was inspired by those kinds of feelings, writing that song, in particular … looking back and finding your own place in that chain of stories and deciding how you want to keep building from there, feeling some kind of responsibility and wanting to make something positive and great with your own life.

Another great part of the song is the way it loops and multiplies the harmonies. What inspired that? To me, there are elements there that recall old, old folk songs, gospel songs, hymns — as well as more modern remixes and electronic music. Did that come from any particular place of inspiration?

My: It happened on the spot. We had the chords, the "big, bad, good" part. That was something I had come up with some months earlier, so that’s the part we had. The lyrics we were writing that day, and Shahzad was working out that beat. Once the beat was there, we decided to go in and start singing what came to us. We did that in layer after layer after layer and it became what it is, pretty much, with some editing and adding some things after. But that’s very much how it happened — it’s what came to us instinctively.

I noticed also that you reference other artists in your songs. What made you decide to do that in such an overt way? It feels cliché to ask a musician in an interview, "Tell me about your influences," but you seem to invite a certain amount of comparison with those kinds of lyrics.

My: In "Big Bad Good," we talk about Paul Simon, and that is probably, mostly … I mean, I couldn’t say for sure … I’m interpreting my own lyrics here, but my dad used to sing to me a lot when I grew up. He has a very Simon and Garfunkel-y voice, so it’s really kind of talking about him. Also, we are compared to Simon and Garfunkel, our sound.

Also, Bob Dylan is sort of a relative of mine. [Laughs] Well, we joke about it often when we play live because one of the first songs we played together was Bob Dylan, “You’re Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go.” And we keep playing it, eight, nine years later. So before we play it, I usually say, "Now we’re gonna play a song that was written by my father’s wife’s ex-husband’s mother’s previous lover." [Laughs] And, that is how I’m related to Bob Dylan.

Bubba: We call him Uncle Bob.

My: Yes. We never met him. We’d love to just have him hear our version of the song. I feel like it’s gonna happen someday.