John Mailander’s Improvisational Forecast Says ‘Let The World In’

Whether or not you know it, you’ve likely heard John Mailander music. Chances are he’s even worked with one (or some) of your favorite artists, from Bruce Hornsby to Billy Strings, Noah Kahan, Joy Williams, Lucy Dacus, Molly Tuttle, and many more.

No disrespect to his work with the Noisemakers (who he’s toured with since 2018), or Strings’ GRAMMY-winning album Home, or any other projects, but it’s Mailander’s original works where his musical wizardry glows brightest. On his latest effort, Let the World In, his abilities are stronger than ever as he combines the influences from everyone he’s worked with into an adventure of orchestral bliss guided by trance-like, open-ended jazzy jams.

Helping Mailander to paint these soundscapes across nine tracks and 35 total minutes of run-time are his longtime band members in Forecast – Ethan Jodziewicz, Chris Lippincott, Mark Raudabaugh, Jake Stargel, David Williford – who he first started playing with during a Nashville residency at Dee’s Country Cocktail Lounge in 2019 to celebrate the release of his debut album of the same name. Through eight instrumental tracks (and a cover of Nick Drake’s “Road”) they send listeners on an introspective journey throughout Let the World In that brings the jazz leaning work of Hornsby and jam-fueled tendencies of Phish together, showing just how far he and Forecast have grown and evolved since first coming together.

“The first record was a blueprint, the second was settling into and discovering who we are, and this record is the most confident statement of who we are,” Mailander tells BGS. “Harmonies, colors, melodic themes, it can all be tied back to the first record in some way.”

Mailander spoke to us ahead of the album’s release about how all of his prior collaborative experiences set the stage for Let the World In to shine, writing on the piano, reality checks from recording, song sequencing, and more.

From your work with Billy Strings and Bruce Hornsby to your own music, you’ve always had a very collaborative way about you and this new record is no exception. What are your thoughts on the significance that played in the process of bringing this album to life?

John Mailander: Collaboration and improvisation are some of the most beautiful parts of being a musician. I love working with the widest variety of artists that I can. It’s a great way to become closer on a human level with the people you’re working with.

Initially, when I was starting this Forecast project, I envisioned it as more of a collective of musicians where we could all bring our own original tunes to the table and improvise freely. However, over time it’s formed into a more regular lineup with the six of us, allowing for the group to grow together as a unit.

Is the album title, Let the World In, meant to be a nod to that collaborative nature and outside influences that loom so large on the project?

Absolutely. The title has a lot of different angles to it. I hesitate to say everything it means to me because I don’t want to put it into too much of a box – I want to leave room for the listener to imagine what it means for them as well. It’s a follow-up to the last record [Look Closer] that we made in isolation during the pandemic.

While that record was very introspective, this new one is much more expansive, because of the world opening up more now and having this constant flood of information coming at us from all directions. It’s an overwhelming time to be alive, so this album feels like a companion piece to the last one, almost like the other side of the coin.

The title track also features the “Let the World In Sound Freedom Expressionists” – Hannah Delynn, Maya de Vitry, Gibb Droll, Ella Korth, Lindsay Lou, and Royal Masat. What was your intention with recruiting them for that one track, and what do you feel they brought to it that it may not have had otherwise?

They are a collection of very dear friends in Nashville who have been there for me in my personal life through a lot. It felt really important to me to credit these friends on the record in some way. That manifested into this collection of sound bites from each of them including poetry, sound effects, singing, and field recordings, which I put together into the sound collage you hear in the track. I love knowing that all of their voices are in there. I hope with each listen you can tune into different elements of it and hear new things.

In terms of outside influences on the record, I know Bruce Hornsby played a big role. What tricks and lessons from him did you implement into these songs?

Bruce is one of my greatest teachers. He’s been really encouraging over the past few years to pursue this project, grow into a band leader, and becoming more confident on the piano. I’m very rudimentary, but I’ve become obsessed with learning the piano recently, in large part thanks to Bruce and watching him play it so much. Everything on this record – except for the cover, “Road,” and the improvisational tracks – were ones I wrote on the piano, which was a huge change in direction for me.

I’ve also tried to incorporate elements of how he leads a band, like having dueling conversational solos rather than individual ones or weaving in and out of and finishing each other’s lines, into what we do with the Forecast as well.

Process-wise, how did the construction of these songs on the piano differ from when you’re composing on fiddle?

Going back to the title of this record, the piano gave it a wider scope compositionally for me, because I was thinking a lot more about bass lines and counter melodies and other things that as a fiddle player aren’t as prevalent. With the fiddle I think much more melodically – it’s kind of the top voice – which makes it harder for me to compose that way because even though it’s my primary instrument it’s hard to get a full picture with it. On the piano it felt more like writing for an entire ensemble rather than just writing a melody in chords.

You ended up knocking out the recording for this album during four consecutive days last year. What was it like doing it all rapid-fire like that compared to the more conventional, slow and steady approach?

It was intense, and we even recorded more than just what made it on the record. A lot of the work in post [production], for me, has been crafting everything we recorded into something that tells a story, which would’ve been tough to do across multiple sessions with the band over time, given that they’re all touring musicians as well. It felt good getting together with everyone from basically 10 to 6 every day and working our butts off as much as we could. It was the most concentrated and focused time we’ve ever had together as a band, as well as a reality check about things in the band we needed to work on.

It’s like putting a microscope on everything because we’ve been playing live at Dee’s every month for a few years, but now we’re in this hyper-focused environment where we can hear and analyze every minor detail. It opened up a lot of rabbit holes that I ended up going down later, but I think we really grew as a band through the process of making it this way.

You mentioned the time being a reality check for what you needed to work on as a band. What were some of those things?

It was like putting a microscope on how the particular instrumentation and individual voices on our instruments really blend and work together, revealing sonic and dynamic things that worked or not. It revealed some habits we’d gotten into through playing live that we discovered didn’t always translate to a record. The sessions were an awesome and intensive way to grow as a unit.

You’ve produced all of the Forecast records thus far. Is that something you plan to continue doing in the future?

Actually, the next record we do I’d like to have another producer. I love producing, but I’m realizing that for my own music I’d like to get another perspective in the room next time we do it. It’s really tough taking on both of those roles, but I’m really proud of what we did and grateful for producing it again this time around.

One of my favorite elements of the record is how well the songs flow from one into another – if listened through in order it presents almost as one long, 35-minute track. Tell me about sequencing this record and the importance for listeners to digest the full project from start to finish?

I’ve always been a nerd about sequencing records. I think it’s a really important part of the experience of listening to music. With this one I put a lot more attention into connecting the tracks. Some of them blend into one another, which is something that my mastering engineer Wayne Pooley – who I know through the Bruce Hornsby world – and I spent countless time laboring over the microseconds between every track to make sure each one hits you in a very intentional way.

Only one track on the album has lyrics – your cover of Nick Drake’s “Road.” Why’d you choose it, and what do you feel it contributes to the overall narrative you’re striving to present on the record?

[Nick’s] been a huge inspiration for years. Even as more of an instrumentalist I’ve always been drawn to his writing. But in terms of that song, I’ve known it for a while and love the entire record it’s on, Pink Man. About a year and a half ago – just before work on Let the World In began – I brought the song to the band. Nick Drake’s version is around two minutes long, but I thought it would be cool to use the song as a tool with our band to improvise and jam like we do at our live shows. We did just that by stretching it out to over nine minutes long. Lyrically it fits with the themes on the rest of the record, but it’s not heavy-handed either. It’s still open to interpretation, which is what I really value in it.

Initially I thought about having a guest vocalist on it, because on our last record we had a couple guest singers. But as we got closer and closer to the studio sessions I realized that it was important for me to sing this one myself, and I’m really proud with how it turned out.

If you could collaborate or have a jam session with any musician past or present, who would it be?

My hero, Trey Anastasio. It would be a dream to play or collaborate with him someday.

What has music, specifically when it comes to the creation process for Let the World In, taught you about yourself?

It’s allowed me to connect with my bandmates on a deeper level than I know how to do any other way. Through that I’m able to tap into those energies that exist between us as people, which is a type of connection I practice and strive to achieve every day.


Photo Credit: Michael Weintrob

MIXTAPE: Marie Miller’s Quiet Hope From Home

“Music has always been a source of hope in the most difficult seasons of life. It possesses that strange quality to make mosaics out of even the most broken places and emotions. As we face this pandemic as a world community, I pray this music fills your heart and gives you quiet hope from home.” — Marie Miller

The Collection – “Becoming My Own Home”

I remember the first time I heard this whole album, and I honestly gasped in joy! This song is about finding home within yourself. I think it speaks to this time as many of us are reconnecting with ourselves in our homes.

Brandi Carlile – “The Mother”

We have all lost something in this pandemic, but we haven’t lost who we are. Brandi Carlile I will love you forever.

Marie Miller – “Little Dreams”

I’m going to be super awkward and put myself on here for two reasons. 1. This song is about believing in your dream when EVERYTHING is falling apart. 2. I just want to be near Brandi in any way I can.

Lowland Hum – “I Will”

I can’t count how many nights I have looked at the sky and listened to this with wonder at the dark sky and bright stars. It just makes me feel like we are going to be OK.

Kelly Hunt – “Across the Great Divide”

Speaking of soothing music, Kelly Hunt makes truly lovely and peaceful music. Also I have yet to meet her, but I imagine she would be the kindest person in the world.

Punch Brothers – “Soon or Never”

I don’t think I will ever get tired of this song. It’s almost hauntingly beautiful. It breaks my heart, but puts it back together before the end of the song.

Joy Williams – “Front Porch”

Going with theme, I feel like I am at the front porch of forgiving myself and loving myself and that’s still home even if its not quite inside. “The light is on. Whatcha waiting for?”

Josh Ritter – “Change of Time”

As we all let go of what we thought this year would be, I am allowing Josh Ritter to serenade me and remind me all will be well.

Fleet Foxes – “White Winter Hymnal”

The first time I heard this song I was in love with this boy, and I felt like he might like me. I don’t know that boy anymore, but I feel that hope every time I hear it.

Robby Hecht and Caroline Spence – “I’ll Keep You”

I think Robby Hecht could fill any heart with hope. This song is about keeping things that matter, and I think it’s a great song for today.

The Wailin’ Jennys – “Glory Bound”

This song is about heaven, and the Wailin’ Jennys sing like angels. It would be hard to find something more hopeful and beautiful.

Michelle Mandico – “1,000 Feet”

The world needs to braver and kinder than its ever before to make beauty out of this sorrow. I believe we are far kinder and braver than we know. This song reminds us of just that.


 

Come In, Sit Down: Joy Williams Visits About ‘Front Porch’

Joy Williams embarked on quite the journey to get to her new solo album Front Porch. On the title track, she sums it up best, singing, “I took the long way looking for the shortcut/ To find out that this place was made of the best stuff.” After the Civil Wars broke up in 2014, she left Nashville and headed west to California with her family. The distance felt necessary: It served, on the one hand, as a chance to clear her head after the dissolution of a creative partnership, and on the other as an opportunity to spend with her dying father.

When she released 2015’s VENUS, her first solo project to follow her duo work, she purposely went for a different sound, as if she wasn’t fully prepared to inhabit the style long circulating around her voice and songwriting. Front Porch is a return to form in more ways than the title implies. She moved back to Nashville, and began writing in a more honest fashion about love, desire, and the flaws that people may try to run from but which make them perfectly imperfect. Partnering with The Milk Carton Kids’ Kenneth Pattengale as producer, Williams burrows into a roots sound that is as sparse as it is reverent, her voice so clear and comfortable it’s an invitation for one and all to gather on the porch.

VENUS took you in new directions than what listeners have typically heard from you, while Front Porch feels like a return in many ways. Why was it time to make this project in particular?

VENUS was a by-product of having to cleanse my palate, so to speak. After [the Civil Wars] officially split, I felt a little claustrophobic in Nashville. I realized once I was [in Venice Beach] I was still bringing everything that I was processing with me; the music was an expression of me needing to literally lift out of the space I had inhabited for a while in order to gain some clarity. I left the holler, as it were, to go find a different space for myself in order to clear my mind and heal, because there was a lot to heal from. And I did that.

VENUS certainly felt like a heavy record despite the pop production.

I was also on the West Coast because my dad was dealing with terminal cancer. I wanted to be close to him as he was in the process of passing away. That record, you can hear some heaviness, but there’s a determination to fight and continue on. Once my dad passed away, there was this sense of “Why are we still in Venice Beach?”

So you returned to Nashville?

We came back to the house that never sold and started again. It felt like a whole new chapter. For me, it felt like a return that was really important—to community, and to myself, and to no longer being afraid to make the music that was really inside of me all along, and to actually enjoy and embrace the sound that came from the front porch, which became my guard rails for writing. After everything I’d lost in those past few years, I realized it’s really the simple things that matter the most, to me anyway. I wanted to make a record that reflected that.

In ending VENUS with “Welcome Home,” did you already see yourself pointing in the direction that became Front Porch?

Yes, absolutely. Doesn’t that happen so much in our lives anyhow? We give ourselves away before we move in that direction.

The body knows before the brain does.

Yes, I’m a huge believer of what I call the animal body or the animal instinct. I don’t mean that in the barbaric sense, but in the deepest wisdom.

And what wisdom did you gain?

I felt like in the process of writing this record — which was a slow and steady process — I was also coming to terms with embracing who I am, and learning to love the scars and the bruises and the bumps along the way, realizing that’s what makes people ultimately beautiful and interesting. I’m a recovering perfectionist from a conservative family. Unraveling those things lead to more spaciousness within me, and a deeper gratitude for everything I’ve gone through — the tough shit and the highs as well.

It’s interesting that you say you’ve come to terms with the scars and bruises because you sound so comfortable on Front Porch, like you’ve rediscovered something about yourself.

As I’ve hopefully grown over the years, I’ve become more aware of my coping tricks, and learning to lovingly dismantle those, if I’m able, and also to treat them all with an open curiosity. That rootedness and groundedness within me really began influencing a lot of things in my life, music being one of them. On top of all of that, I was newly pregnant with our daughter Poppy — I knew I was pregnant, but I didn’t know I was having a daughter at the time — and really sick while recording that record. There was a part of me that asked, “Should I postpone the recording?” I thought, “No, this is the prime time to do this because I’m going to sit on this stool and sing.” I don’t care if this comes out perfectly, I just want it to be as honest as it possibly can be. It was the most joyful experience I’ve ever had in the studio, and I’ve been doing this since I was 17.

I’m sure that’s not how any artist would plan that process, but what comes out ends up being its own kind of perfection.

Right. We recorded 15 songs in five days. The process for that was really a product of Anthony da Costa and I on my green velvet couch rehearsing these songs, just guitar and voice. The purity of that and the ability to focus on the performances allowed for an organic experience.

I was particularly taken with the vocal chorus that shows up on “Trouble With Wanting,” and how it plays into that idea of the power in gathering. What prompted the choice to include it?

I really love the idea of the front porch because you can gather out there with yourself — you can commune with yourself out on the front porch — or you can bring a best friend, or at least on my porch you can bring 8 to 10 people. There’s always a beautiful energy with any one of those configurations. With “Trouble,” that song felt like such an open conversation. I wrote it with my friend Natalie Hemby when we were talking about the devastation of desire, and what it’s like to have those moments where you go, “If only that person….”

I’d had a conversation with my best friend who’d had an on-again, off-again relationship with someone for 10 years, and I thought, “God, every one of us has been through some kind of version of this heartache and longing.” The experience of desire and that universal sense that many of us can relate to, it felt like it begged for group vocals. We did that all live. Kenneth is singing harmonies, and Anthony is singing harmonies, and I’m singing harmonies, and it felt like a collective expression of something that felt true, at least to me.

Speaking of desire, one of my favorite things about your songwriting is how raw and honest you’ve been about dealing with desire. How have you seen that shift from project to project?

I was always writing romance and different shades of it. In the Civil Wars, it was like tapping into the destructive, obsessive side of desire. As I’ve grown, I realize that romance has many facets in the same jewel, so if you turn it, you see something completely different. What does it look like to experience the romance of what is present and in front of you? And the romance of learning to love yourself? …

I think in the process of writing this record, I wanted to write about how difficult and challenging and scary and vulnerable it is to love someone a long time, and to love someone without any real sense of knowing what the future holds. No one can foretell what the future will be. The process of making this record, I wanted to dig my hands into the earth even more about the sumptuous and sensual nature of what romance is and what it looks like to love myself, and what it looks like to love someone else, and what it looks like to love my family, and what it looks like to lose, and what it looks like to begin again, and what it looks like to say, “I’m done,” or “Enough.” Whatever it is. I wanted to write in a way that there was no glossing over anything.