Billy Woodhouse and Elliot Dryden finished their latest lots of hands record in a “very messy fucked up student room”. They hurled this description early on in our conversation, my context on the duo limited to that their evening itinerary consisted of rounds of Fortnite and pints of beer. For a moment I found it ironic that they titled the album into a pretty room, although, as they wedged memories of celebratory dance parties in between fond reflections of writing and recording in Woodhouse’s living room, the allegedly “fucked up” nature of the apartment held less and less of a contradictory effect. into a pretty room pursues a sort of haven that cannot be furnished with antique Danish chairs and wallpaper swatches pulled from Architectural Digest. With self-described “squealy chipmunk” vocals, delightfully weird patches of electronic production and lyrics that strip notions of grief right down to the bone, lots of hands’ forthcoming album is a stunning tale of growing up, and a testimony to the extents of beauty found in the unrefined.
In the last four years, Dryden and Woodhouse have continued their journey of stylistic experimentation whilst honing the project’s identity. A chronological listen of the lots of hands catalog corroborates their growth towards a gentler, ambient-folk sound, a progression that hits an exhilarating peak in their latest work. While past lots of hands’ endeavors have been the fruit of remote labor, relying on the modern technological miracles of online demo exchanges, into a pretty room marks their first truly collaborative work, a product of Dryden and Woodhouse thoughtfully collaging old work and writing new songs together in Leeds, UK. into a pretty room fosters an obvious ‘touching grass’ vibe, with lyrics like “breathing the country air” and “talking with the dogs and birdies” offering a glaring manifestation of their experience in the north England countryside. However, the most moving effects of the album’s collaborative nature are far less axiomatic, as their shared vulnerabilities intertwine into one deeply human and emotionally complex coming of age narrative.
Over the course of the 14 track album, twinkling instrumentals coat the achy revelations of growing up. It’s a story of defending ‘laziness’ to your mom before the word depression enters your vocabulary, of experiencing heartbreak and grief not knowing if you will ever feel okay again, of waking up and wishing you could have been born as someone else. While it sounds devastating, the longer you sit with into a pretty room, the more it presents like running your hand over a scar rather than the all-consuming sensation of a fresh wound. “Before we made this album, we were both in transformation phases, different parts of our lives” Woodhouse explains, “[into a pretty room] is reference to doing well for the first in a while, with work and mental health and identity and trying to find out what style of music you want to make and what kind of person you want to be”.
into a pretty room is set to be released as their Fire Talk Records debut on January 17th. I recently met with Woodhouse and Dryden via Zoom, where they spoke about what they’re listening to, the history of lots of hands and what a pretty room looks like to them.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity
courtesy of lots of hands
Manon Bushong: You are about to release your fourth album under lots of hands, but I would love to start by hearing about the project’s roots. How did you two meet, and how did lots of hands come to be?
Billy Woodhouse: I’d been doing it as a solo project until about 2020, when I got Elliot involved, we just met at a really terrible music course in Newcastle and just bounced ideas off each other. It kind of took Elliot a while to get into the scene that I was in. I was probably on the different side of the spectrum, so we kind of met in the middle in terms of style and taste and just started making music as a duo. But before that, it was just an acoustic, ambient project.
Manon Bushong: So you met in the middle… I’m curious about what these ‘opposite ends of the spectrum’ looked like. Can you describe your tastes when you first started?
BW: Elliot was very…
Elliot Dryden: I was very…[laughs] bear in mind we were like, 16. Very Britpop-y
BW: Oasis
Elliot: Those guys… We always had some middle ground, we liked the Beatles, Elliot Smith, Radiohead.
BW: I was listening to a lot of hardcore, and a lot of very heavy math rock that I probably wouldn’t be as interested in now. Eventually we found this sweet spot of folk and ambient that we just really enjoy making together.
MB: How about now, what were your favorite music releases from last year?
BW: Tapir!
ED: Yeah
BW: our good friends in Tapir! dropped an absolute banger of a record this year. It’s like folk music with a little TR 808, electronic drum in the background. I can’t stop pushing that album on every single person I speak to. It’s amazing, it’s kind of a concept album about a pilgrimage that they’re all taking. And, the new Horse Jumper of Love album was amazing, that came out this year.
ED: Mk.Gee, we went to see Mk.Gee
BW: Oh yeah, like a month ago. That shit was awesome. That shit was so awesome.
MB: You mentioned finding a sweet spot of folk and ambient. That is definitely present in your recent work, it has a very cozy, almost outdoorsy feel to it. Where did you write and record the album, and how did that influence the project as a whole?
BW: We recorded it in my living room when I was living in Leeds. I was studying illustration, and Elliot had just got this new job, so he was coming down and splashing his cash every weekend in Leeds. We’d kind of just have a day when we’d sit and write and record. I think just doing it in my house has always been good, but I feel like because it was away from both of our homes, it felt like a new chapter for both of us, and I feel like that translates to the music really well.
MB: It definitely translates well, there is a certain coming of age feel to the album and how you reflect on adolescence, grief and depression. Are the songs and the stories you are telling ones that have accumulated over time?
ED: There’s quite a few that have been around for a couple years, a few of mine that have been around for two, maybe three years, and then some that Bill wrote like two years ago. So half of it is kind of old music that would fit with what we were trying to talk about, and the other half was stuff we came up with recently – reflecting on where we were at the time as well.
MB: You mentioned this idea of ‘what you were trying to talk about’. I would love to hear about the title for this album, and how these tracks fit into your idea of a ‘pretty room’.
BW: With a lot of the songs being from three years ago and a lot of them being new, we tried to encapsulate that sense of moving forward with identity and grief, and just stuff we had been through. It felt like the only time we were able to sit down and work on it was in the living room. With the album, I think we were trying to get a coming of age feel, and a sense of a safe space that we both are in now.
MB: into a pretty room also has more words than your previous albums, though it also includes a few ambient tracks without lyrics. How do you approach creating songs with lyrics versus ones without, and what is the process for tying them all together in one album?
BW: There is, maybe not for the people listening, but in my head, a need for some breathing room because it felt like we were getting quite a lot off our chests in actually making songs with lyrics. I definitely had a lot more ambient tracks on the album on a first draft we created, and then Elliot said “it’s just a bit too much breathing room”. I think in a way, we are just dividing the album into three parts, not because it really changes, but just so you have a chance to breathe. I would really like to do another ambient project that’s just instrumental because that is the sort of music I enjoy making the most.
MB: Would you ever consider creating ambient music for another type of project, perhaps scoring a film?
BW: One of my bucket list goals is to score a film. Maybe when I get old, or whenever the offer comes to me, I’ll take it. For now, and I don’t know about Elliot, but I make music with scenes in my head
ED: I don’t
BW: He doesn’t.
MB: If you could create the music for any existing film, which would you pick?
BW: I would do where the wild things are. I love that Karen O record so much, but I just feel like my music looks like that film. I remember going to see that with my dad when it first came out, and it was actually life changing. All the puppets that they made for the film, it was just everything I needed to be creative in my head, it had all the inspiration. So probably that film, no diss on Karen O’s record though. It’s amazing.
MB: You have used a lovely series of paintings as the cover art for the single releases and the album. Who was responsible for those, and why did you pick them?
BW: I had the idea of barn animals for the cover, because we have the song “barnyard” that was initially going to be the main single. We got kind of caught in that country folk thing, we were listening to a lot of Hank Williams and a lot of country. Our friend Beef, and Harry Principle painted it and so I shot her a quick message and was like ‘please can I steal that for an album?’. It’s actually just one massive painting that she did that she got scanned, but I cut it into pieces because there’s so much going on. They did it by drawing over each other’s artwork, it’s a collaborative piece and then they started dating after, so it also has a cute little story behind it. Shout-out Beef and Shoutout Harry for making that cover, I think it just looks how the album sounds.
MB: Do either of you have a favorite song off of into a pretty room?
ED: There’s one that Bill wrote called “in between”, it’s really good. I like the lyrics, and it’s quite short and sweet and all acoustic, which I like. That one is my favorite
BW: My favourite is “barnyard” because it has everything I like in lots of hands’ songs in it, droning reversed guitars in the background, my squeally chipmunk vocals as well as Elliot’s very baritone, almost grainy vocals. We just kind of wrote it in about ten minutes, just like brainstorming together in my fucked up student room in Leeds. That was a good moment for us when making the record, because we made it, and then we just kind of had a little boogie to it for about half an hour, just being like “we just made this shit, we’re making a record right now”.
MB: What are you most excited for now in the coming months? Aside from album rollout, is there anything else exciting on the lots of hands radar?
BW: I’m really excited to play these shows. We’ve got some really good musicians on board for it, and it’s always good to see the other side of the country. We’re in a very weird place in the UK, it’s beautiful and it has a lot of history, but there’s just not much of a music scene here, so it’s always good to travel about and meet other musicians.
ED: Yeah, same with me. I’m kind of excited that we might be able to travel somewhere else one day, maybe America or just anywhere else. It’ll be quite fun, I’m excited and staying hopeful we’re gonna hit the US.
BW: Elliot, plug, plug, uh, our solo stuff.
ED: No, I’m not.
BW: Elliot’s got some solo stuff coming out at some point. Under Elliot Dryden
ED: So does Bill.
BW: Mine is under Uncle Red. We’re gonna be doing some side projects, mine is more ambient, his is more kind of singer songwriter-y. We’re trying to get the lots of hands universe going.
Today, lots of hands shares “barnyard”, the fifth and final single before the release of into a pretty room. Listen below!
into a pretty room is set to be released this Friday January 17th via Fire Talk Records. You can preorder the album, as well as vinyl, CDs and cassettes.
Written by Manon Bushing | Photo courtesy of lots of hands
Every Wednesday, the ugly hug shares a playlist personally curated by an artist/band that we have been enjoying. This week we have a collection of songs put together by Philly-based composer, multi-instrumentalist, producer and Founder of Dear Life Records, Michael Cormier-O’Leary.
Along with contributions to beloved projects such as Friendship and 2nd Grade, Michael also leads the remarkable chamber folk ensemble, Hour. Following the critically acclaimed release of Ease the Work, Hour recently announced the arrival of Subminiature, a live tour document curating two years of DIY show performances and offering a culmination of the project’s seven years of dynamic work.
The first snippet shared from Subminiature is lead single, “At the Bar Where You Literally Saved Me from Fatal Heartbreak (Live at Philamoca, Philadelphia, PA, 4/12/24”, accompanied by a live concert video directed by Matt Ober. Watch below.
Michael put together a playlist of some of his favorite film music, a lot of which has inspired Hour in many ways. Listen below!
Hour is made up of many familiar faces from the Philly scene and beyond, with Subminiature featuring players such as Jacob Augustine, Jason Calhoun, Em Downing, Matt Fox, Peter Gill, Lucas Knapp, Evan McGonagill, Peter McLaughlin, Keith J. Nelson, Erika Nininger, Abi Reimold, Adelyn Strei
Set to be released on Valentine’s Day of this year, Hour will celebrate Subminiature with an extensive month-long tour across the U.S. You can preorder Subminiature now, including a limited edition cassette and CD run by Dear Life Records.
Written by Shea Roney | Photo by Michael Cormier-O’Leary
As a small music journal, we rely heavily on the work of independent tape labels to discover and share the incredible artists that we have dedicated this site to. Whether through press lists, recommendations, artist connections, social media support or supplying physicals, these homemade labels are the often-unsung heroes of the industry. Today, the ugly hug is highlighting the work of our friends over at We Be Friends Records.
We Be Friends is an immersive and cherished New York-based record label run by Justin Randel. With an emphasis on community, We Be Friends was built upon the simple pleasure that is sharing music and the deep bonds that can follow. Along with his own project called Reaches, Justin has cultivated a collection of expansive and truly unique projects from beloved artists such as The Spookfish, Mega Bog, Dean Cercone, iji, sneeze awful, gosh! and many more.
We got to catch up with Justin over email correspondence to talk about how We Be Friends came to be, DIY videogames and cultivating community through fermentation and music.
Justin Randel
Shea Roney: What sparked the idea to start a tape label? Was there a particular moment of inspiration that made you take the leap? What goals did you have in mind when starting the label?
Justin Randel: Unfortunately, I started this label because at the time a bunch of friends and myself were on labels that weren’t sending us any form of sales reports. I had friends playing Pitchfork and others that were having their record repressed, but nothing, no word from the labels. This was pre-streaming too, so it was obvious something was up and something needed to change. I was pretty stubborn and naive about what a tremendous amount of work running a label is and just how difficult it is to get press attention as a newbie and relative unknown, but in the end I’m glad I did this. Although this was a much harder route, I think it’s important to try and shape a more just existence.
SR: Can you share the story behind the name of the label? We Be Friends has such a welcoming tone to it and that feels to transcend into the community that you have built out of it.
JR: When I started this label, I was at the height of my fermentation fever. I wanted to ferment just about everything which included making sometimes good, sometimes questionable beers and wines. The idea was that every album would come with a bottle of something which was easy to pull off because this was also a time where pretty much all shows happened in a warehouse or basement. The state of Illinois does not allow homebrewers to sell alcohol; however, it does allow a person to give alcohol away to friends. Pretty much everyone is just a short conversation away from being a friend.
Bottling with Sinuba and Dan
SR:Do you have any collaborators that help you run the label, and if so, how does that shape the way you function? You also partner up with many other indie labels to share physical releases.
JR: Ugh I freaking wish I had collaborators. I regret starting this label on my own because it can take so much time, energy and self-assuredness. I’m definitely an optimistic person, but traversing the ever-shifting musical landscape is arduous. It can be difficult to wake up every day and tell yourself, ‘yes, this is a great idea’. As you mentioned, I have partnered with Solid Melts, Chinabot and Orindal in the past. These partnerships came about because at the time, we all just felt that we really wanted people to hear those albums. I like doing joint releases like this especially in the case of Chinabot where the label is in a different continent because it can feel silly at times sending just one record or tape to another part of the world.
Cambodia with Saphy Vong of Chinabot
SR:Who was the first artist you worked with and how did that come to be?How do you find the artists you work with?
JR: The first artist was myself. To this day, anytime I try something new like a new plant or release technique, I try to use my own projects as the tester just in case something goes south. It’s all just friends or friends that I met on tour. Although I do appreciate and listen to every submission, I do think of this less as a label and more as a community archive.
Paris with Opale, Marie Delta and Ensemble Economique
SR:What’s it like bringing an album from concept to reality, especially when making physical media? Are there any parts of the process you particularly love—or find challenging?
JR: Honestly, I find all of it extremely exciting and sometimes a little nerve wracking when a lot of copies of something show up at my door. I think the only challenge I really feel is that while writing press, I do not do that press agent thing of sending the same or nearly the same email five times. I just can’t bring myself to do that. Lately, I’ve also gone back to the old days of sending out physical copies. I am releasing these albums because I want to share albums after all. I keep learning new things with every release! I do try to do ‘better’ every time I release something, and I try to stay open to the way things shift or the possibility that I don’t know what I’m doing at all
Haunted House by Dean Cercone Vinyl
SR:Working with Dan of The Spookfish, chatting on your daily hikes prior to the release of his album Bear in the Snow and the video game of the same name, was said to have broadened your horizon in the world of independent video game creators. You and The Spookfish also just released another soundtrack for a video game called To the Flame. Where has exploring this new community enhanced your perspective on creativity and are you looking to work further with video games in the future?
JR: I think when Dan first told me about DIY videogames, I mostly understood videogames as something a corporation with a big budget creates. I don’t think I necessarily understood it as art, but rather as a product which can feel similar at times. It’s interesting and encouraging to know that a small group of friends or in Bear in the Snow’s case, just a singular person can create a video game or something that has the power to transport you out of presence in a positive way similar to the way music can for many of us. Although I don’t have any current plans to work with a video game, I am open to the idea.
Recording Bear in the Snow with The Spookfish
SR:For those who are looking to start their own tape label, what advice do you have for them?
JR: I think it’s vital to understand that music is not a competition and not to self-limit as you go along. A ‘no’ or the more often received ‘no response’ is not necessarily a ‘no’ a year from now or after you’ve accomplished a bit more.
Along with this series, our friends over at We Be Friends are offering a merch bundle giveaway! The bundle includes To the Flame (2024) by The Spookfish, Church (2024) by Ricki Weidenhof, Another Head (2023) by Alden Penner, Happy Together (2018) by Mega Bog and Pseudodoxia (2013) and I am Alive and Well (2016) by Reaches. Also included will be an ugly hug tote bag and stickers.
To enter the giveaway, follow these easy steps below!
Interlay does not want to play nice. Alexandria Ortgiesen tells you this on the second track of Hunting Jacket, amidst waves of abrasive instrumental collisions, but by then she doesn’t have to. Rather than treading a fine line between dissonance and harmony, Interlay embraces extremes recklessly, cultivating a rich and indulgent sound like some sort of ‘all you can eat’ buffet of the varying noise-driven genres they touch. Their songs lean heavy, but their structure is smart, understanding that the loudest arrangements can’t sustain impact by sheer volume alone. Hunting Jacket carves out soft pockets, teasing enough delicacy to lower your heart rate before a storming of dense drumming can kick you in the stomach. In six tracks, Interlay invites you into their game but does not tell you the rules, their clever melodies simulating the highs of reckless sound as they nail the gnarly beauty of raw Midwest noise in a recorded format.
Hunting Jacket functions as both a fitting addition to Interlay’s catalogue and a debut of its own. It marked their first release after relocating to Chicago from Madison, where the band had been based since its start in 2018. Ortgiesen is the only remaining member from Interlay’s roots, and is now joined by Henry Ptacek on drums, Kayla Chung on bass, and guitarist Sam Eklund, who also makes his vocal introduction on the 2024 EP. The band has never been known to ease in, following commanding start of “Rot” on their 2020 release Cicada with an even stronger intro track on Hunting Jacket , as standout “Virgin Mary” fills the first thirty seconds of the EP with abrasive riffs and formidable percussion. Throughout their latest work, Interlay takes the dense sonic textures and brooding nature of their past projects and stretches their potential, demonstrating how Interlay’s recent shifts are nourishing their identity rather than thwarting it.
One of the many successful feats of Hunting Jacket is the way it disputes notions that emotion and weakness are synonymic. Ortgeisen’s vocals are also volatile, offering no warning in their turns from gentle to abrasive. Yet, even at their most benign moments, when her deliveries are tender and lyrics spill with vulnerability, her performance is laced with assertion rather than docility. It helps that Hunting Jacket is a guitar heavy listen, creating an environment where instruments carry equal weight in navigating the feel of the tracks as vocals do. Interlay embraces their own emotion as much as they embrace raw post-punk noise, and their ability to blend the two bulldozes sonic expectations on “sad girl” music to make space for a reality where yearning, paranoia, and insecurity can and should exist at the same volume as bitter rage.
The EP wraps with the title track, where Interlay breaks free from the fervent tug of war between heavy and tender to explore a more climactic style of songwriting. Surpassing the prior songs in length, “Hunting Jacket” mimics the bodily effects of walking a lap after a sprint. In a stirring buildup, the band counters any whims that the rapture of the EP lies in party tricks of all consuming noise and distortion tactics, as their ability to write suspenseful and controlled melodies amounts to an equal level of auditory catharsis.
Scroll through photos from Interlay’s EP release show July 5, 2024, at The Sleeping Village in Chicago, IL.
Today we are celebrating six months of Interlay’s Hunting Jacket. Listen on all streaming platforms as well as order a cassette or CD via Pleasure Tapes.
Every week the ugly hug shares a playlist personally curated by an artist/band that we have been enjoying. Kicking off the new year, we have a collection of songs put together by New York-based singer-songwriter, Allegra Krieger.
Allegra’s songwriting unfolds with a unique fluidity – slick phrasings flow with both a furrowed brow and an evocative smirk that bring love, sex and rock n’ roll into fruition with a type of storytelling that is unshaken by truth, intentionality and the beauty that often falls behind. Allegra released one of the ugly hug’s favorite records of 2024, titled Art of the Unseen Infinity Machine, an album of melodic stamina where vivid tales are primped and fitted, and fleeting dreams hiss like an inflicted tire trying to hold its breath, yet these thirteen songs still lead with purpose and unlevied gratitude, filling out with the kind of compassion and introspection that has made her work so collective and meaningful to so many.
Listen to Allegra’s playlist here;
Listen to Art of the Unseen Infinity Machine out on all platforms now.
Every Wednesday, the ugly hug shares a playlist personally curated by an artist/band that we have been enjoying. This week we have a collection of songs put together by Brooklyn-based artist Emily Borrowman of the project smush.
Venturing through intimate begrudgements and giddy culminations of longing, smush set out to find a sense of peace within the noise on their debut record if you were here i’d be home now released earlier this year. Along with Emily, the gushing sound of smush comes from Atley King and Jay Christie, as the trio create a motion deliberate in each of their voicings, punctuating each grating texture and sonic manipulation that gives way to the tenderness in Emily’s vocals and the euphoria trapped within the swaying stamina of each song.
Titled “sensitive girl: did you lose yourself again”, Emily shared this statement about the playlist;
a playlist for the sensitive girl. 40 songs, 2 hours and 19 minutes of music for the melancholy heart, the nostalgic daughter, the princess and the pea. find yourself alone and yearning. featuring deep cuts and familiar faces, these songs pair well with glow in the dark stars, lace curtains, and slingshots. you’re a collector of promises, and so am i. listen with your bleeding heart on your sleeve.
“i’ve been searching for an hour in my closet / trying to figure out what to wear / for a day i’ll spend alone in my room”
Day of Snow, Skullcrusher.
Listen to Emily’s playlist here.
You can listen to if you were here i’d be home now out on all platforms. Purchase a cassette tape here.
As a small music journal, we rely heavily on the work of independent tape labels to discover and share the incredible artists that we have dedicated this site to. Whether through press lists, recommendations, artist connections, social media support or supplying physicals, these homemade labels are the often unsung heroes of the industry. Today, the ugly hug is highlighting the work of our friends over at Bud Tapes.
Bud Tapes is a tape label out of Portland, Oregon, started in 2017 by Emmet Martin, who also leads the free music project Water Shrews and previously the indie project World Record Winner. What began as happenstance for Emmet to release their own music has since grown into a small but mighty collection of recordings from an eclectic roster of artists.
Bud Tapes has become a staple in the Portland DIY music scene- a home for anyone making music for nothing more than the love of making music. The label’s releases are often imperfect in the best way—rough around the edges, experimental, and full of character. Each tape is a little snapshot of someone’s creative journey, and you never really know what you’re going to get with each new release, which is part of the fun.
Bud Tapes is about embracing the weird, and off-beat while still keeping it personal. It’s a label that values the physical side of music—putting the project into your hands in the form of a personalized tape, something you can hold, pop into a deck, and experience over and over again. Whether it’s something from Emmet’s own Water Shrews or another unexpected gem, Bud Tapes is all about capturing music in its purest, most direct form.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity
Emmet Martin | Photo by Kat Curey
KC: What sparked the idea to start a tape label? Was there a particular moment or inspiration that made you take the leap?
EM: Well, I’d always kind of wanted to start a record label, but I thought that you had to do something special to start one like you had to be someone or whatever. I had this record I’d been working on for a while, and I was starting a new band called World Record Winner. I was friends with a lot of people who were signed to labels at the time—people I knew who were kind of popping off—and they said, ‘You should send your record around to places.’ So I did, and everyone either ghosted me or rejected me.
Then I got this one email from Off Tempo, which is a label in Seattle. They put out a lot of stuff that’s kind of indie-adjacent, and it’s run by someone from Slashed Tires, which was a cool project. I was more tapped into the Seattle scene because that’s where I’m from originally. So, I emailed them asking, ‘Do you want to put out my record?’ and they said ‘this is just like a thing we stamp on our friends record’s so we can put it out’ I mean, they phrase it less like that, but that was the gist’.
Basically, they said, ‘You’re at the level where you should just put this out yourself. Make a fake name for your label and release it.’ I was like, ‘Oh, shit, you can just do that?’ So I did. That was kind of the impetus for it—putting out my record when no one else wanted to. And that’s pretty much the case for most people starting labels. They’d rather work with someone else than do it themselves, but in the end, you realize you kind of have to do it yourself. And you find all the joys that come with doing it yourself.
KC: Can you share the story behind the name of the label?
EM: I have a pin that I made at a Cool American show—which is Nathan Tucker’s project, you probably know him- he has so many projects. His partner, Georgia, had a button-making station, and I was in college and I was really stoned and I just wrote ‘bud’ with a little smiley face on a piece of paper and got it pressed into a button. I had it on my fleece all the time for like two years. Then I was like, ‘Oh, that’d be a very fun name for a record label or whatever.’ But it was way after I had made it. So that was also kind of an impetus—it was a fun, weird name that I had in the back of my head for a while.”
KC: Do you have any collaborators that help you run the label, and if so, how does that shape the way the label runs?
EM: I’ve always thought it could be fun to get people involved, but I just don’t know how. I can’t pay people to work and I feel bad asking people to do unpaid labor. So, I just do everything myself. I’ll have help duplicating tapes every now and then for bigger projects, like Greg Freeman’s album or Lily Seabird’s album. But everything else is just me for the most part.
KC: Who was the first artist you worked with and how did that come to be?
EM: Technically, it was just me at first, but I did one release for my friend Isabel. It wasn’t really a ‘real’ thing—she didn’t even want to put out the tape. I kind of made her, since we’d done these recordings together. Anyway, shoutout to Isabel. You can find it on the Bud Bandcamp. We got one write-up on a zine, and it’s a really good tape. She wouldn’t let me put all the songs on it, though, even though there are more that are great.
The first ‘real’ release I did for someone else was from a band called Flipchuck, which is my friend Addie’s band with my friends Leanna and Nikhil, who I went to college with. Right before COVID hit, I was at a show for my friend Jesse’s band, Happy Dagger, and Addie was there. We started chatting, and she had become closer with a lot of my friends, so I was seeing her around more. I asked her what was going on with Flipchuck. She said they were finishing something but weren’t sure if they’d put it out or just post it online. I told her, ‘Well, I’ve got this fake label, and I can make you a few tapes. I’ll give you a couple for free, and I can sell the rest online to pay myself back.’ She was like, ‘Wait, you have a label?’
So we made plans to release a tape in April 2020 and do a release show at my house since I was hosting house shows. Obviously, that didn’t happen because, well, 2020. But I ended up creating an Instagram for Bud and we released the tape in April or May. Since everyone was bored, I started doing live streams on the Bud Instagram, and that’s kind of how we ended up doing the Flipchuck release show.
That was the first time I worked with a ‘real’ band, and it went great. It helped people start to notice what we were doing. It’s a really cool tape, definitely worth listening to.
KC: How do you find the artists you work with? Is there a special connection or vibe you look for?
EM: Those live streams I did on the Bud page started with a group chat I created to schedule them and share the lineup. After each stream, I’d say, ‘Anyone in here can send me music, and I’ll put it out.’ It was kind of like, ‘You’re all my friends, and if you’ve got something, send it to me.’ A lot of people had records they’d been sitting on, waiting for the ‘right time.’ But then we were all stuck inside, and there was no ‘right time’ anymore. So, we just decided to put out music now that we had the time to do it.
That’s how I got a bunch of releases, like the first Babytooth album. Isabel played solo for one of those live streams, and that kind of kickstarted things. Now, people send me stuff randomly, but it’s also a lot of me hounding people, asking, ‘When can you finish that record and send it to me?’ So, it’s a mix of people sending me stuff they’ve been working on and me chasing them down.
I think, for the most part, I’ve always gone for the vibe or the ‘atmo’—I learned that term recently and I’m trying to use it more. It’s an alternative to vibe, you know, atmosphere.
KC: Oh I love that. ‘Vibe’ is so over.
EM: ‘Vibe’ is so overused, but it’s kind of like people who would be doing this regardless of whether there’s an audience or not. I’m usually trying to put out stuff where the artist would be making this music whether or not anyone’s listening.
It’s kind of a true folk approach, like folk music in the traditional sense—music that’s not commercially minded and not trying to fit into any particular scene or chase what’s hot at the moment. It’s really a cultural, community-based way of making music. So I’m usually trying to work with people who are in that realm.
Sometimes, I don’t do that and I put out records that are really good and I know the artist is trying to ‘make it’ or whatever. But for the most part, the artists I seek out and think, ‘Yes, this is something that should be on Bud tapes,’ are people making weird stuff that barely anyone listens to—but I’m like “this shit is fucking awesome”, I’ll make twelve tapes of it.
KC: What’s it like bringing a tape from concept to reality?
EM:When I started out, and still for most of my releases, I do everything myself. For the ones that are more high profile, which rarely happens, it’s different, but for the ones I’m doing from home, it goes like this: someone will make the artwork, and I either adapt it into a J-card or they’ll make one themselves. The artwork is usually square, but I have to adjust it so it fits into a rectangle for the front, and then leave space for the spine and side.
Once that’s done, the artist sends me all the master tracks. If I’m doing it at home, I’ll dub one tape onto my stereo, and then use that tape to duplicate others. I usually have a couple of high-speed double-deck stereo units, so I can put two tapes in at once, and just run them back and forth, hitting high-speed dub.
It’s about twice the speed of the album length, so if the album is 40 minutes, it takes about 20 minutes per tape. I’ll just hang out, watching TV with my partner, while she listens to the whirring of the tape wheels. It’s a specific sound.
Most of the time, I’m just sitting there with my cat on my lap, dubbing tapes and smoking weed. It’s not a bad setup.”
KC: Okay, I love all the band names. You have a good roster.
EM: There’s so many of them, like I’ve honestly done too much [laughs].
It can take a while just to get people to understand what it’s going to look like. We need time to send emails, get everything right, and make sure it’s all set up. It’s mostly about setting people up for when the release is actually coming out and what’s going to fall on the schedule.
But mostly, once I make the tapes, I’ve been trying to announce the release afterward. I’ve done too many times where I announce the release before I’ve made the tapes, and then I’m scrambling last minute trying to get everything done. So I’m trying to give myself more time to get everything ready before announcing.
It’s usually just about making the tapes, making sure the art is ready, maybe planning a release show, and that kind of thing. But honestly, it’s not a lot. I feel like a lot of labels have big rollouts, but for me, it’s not like that. It’s not like I’m doing vinyl or anything, and for the most part, I’m doing stuff that I know will sell a small number of copies—usually no more than 50. So it’s not like I’m ever going to be down and out or anything.
It’s really just about making the tapes and then trying to sell them.
KC: And you taught yourself how to do it all?
EM: Yeah, I had a duplicator I used to use, and it was super janky. Then I bought others, and they were even more janky. My poor partner, Bailey, saw me ripping my hair out, freaking out at these failing machines and trying to replace belts in them.
But it’s always just been me doing it. I eventually figured out a way that works with thrifted double tape decks. They usually make a pretty good copy, and I check every ten copies to make sure they’re okay.
KC: Are there any parts of the process you particularly love—or find challenging?
EM: Oh, I really like just sitting and dubbing the tapes, especially the master tapes. I listen to every record before agreeing to put it out, but then there’s this moment when I go to dub the master tape, and I think, ‘Oh, fuck, I’m stoked to put this out’’ That moment is always really good—like, okay, I’ve got to make these tapes, this is real, I’m dubbing the master tape, this is happening. It’s when I listen to it most in-depth that I get really excited about it.
As for challenges, it’s not so much the process itself, but the hardest part is saying no to people, in any way. Even if I’m putting out their release, and I have to say, ‘I can’t do this right now,’ that’s really difficult for me. But it’s the reality of it. People have all kinds of expectations about what it looks like to put a release out on a record label and setting expectations is hard.”
Photo from Emmet Martin
KC: Can you tell me about the Cosmic Bud series? Where did you get the idea and how do you put each series together?
EM: It was kind of a thing that I failed to do. Initially putting out experimental music seemed so different from Bud that I thought I had to create a separate imprint for it. So, I did a series of three CDs, mostly with experimental stuff happening in Portland—my friend Josh’s band Modern Folk, my friend Matthew Peppitone, and my friends Our Blue Heaven. I did CDs for each of them, like a batch deal.
I don’t know, it just felt weird to keep it separate, and people were confused about what that even meant. Eventually, I just thought, ‘Whatever, Bud is just me, I can do whatever I want.’ So now everything is just under Bud. That was kind of a failed experiment in trying to create something separate for experimental music, like a little imprint. But I realized I could just put everything under Bud, you know? It’s all going to be on the same Bandcamp page anyway.
Handstamp Cassettes of Waves of Higher Bodies by Spiral Joy Band
KC: You’ve done a few reissues or revitalized releases, the Spiral Joy Band that was just announced and the Clovver EP for example. Why are you drawn to this form of preservation and why do you think it is important?
EM: The ones I’ve done have mostly been projects people have asked me to work on, like the Clovver EP, which was super meaningful to me. That was a band I saw a lot back in the day, and the drummer passed away pretty unexpectedly. The singer is my friend Teal, along with my friend Elian. Most of them are in Pileup now—Elian and Grey both play in that band.
Clovver would always play, and it was super cool. The drummer, Andrew, was also in my friend Aaron’s band, Two Moons—I can’t even remember how many projects Aaron’s had over the years. He put out Balloon Club and a bunch of other things. And he also played in Clovver!! Anyway, I would see Clovver all the time, and I’d heard about a record of theirs they were working on. It never came out, so we ended up mixing it years later, after Andrew passed away. It was more of an archival thing.
It was really cool to put that out, but the hardest part about those kinds of releases is that there’s no active band to promote it. So, it’s out there, and I try to sell the tapes, but there’s not much context for it. If you have a media guy, they can lay out the story of how it was made, but I didn’t really know how to do that at the time.
Now, I’m doing a reissue for a band called Spiral Joy, which is a weirdo drone band originally from Virginia, then Wisconsin, and now Texas. I’m reissuing one of their really great records, mostly because I’m also putting out a new release from them. They reached out, saying they had an LP from a European label that only pressed a few copies, and now people have been asking for it. The shipping is so expensive that it’s hard to get it to people. So, they asked if I’d consider doing a US CD reissue to make it more accessible. I thought that sounded great, and it’s perfect because it ties into the new release I’m also putting out, so I can plug both at once.
I also really admire a lot of reissue labels, especially in Portland. Concentric Circles is a classic one. Jed, who’s been in bands like Helen (Liz Harris from Grouper’s band), plays drums in that and has also played in Jackie-O Motherfucker and other great bands. He runs Concentric Circles and also co-runs Freedom To Spend, a reissue label that does incredible archival work, digging through people’s families’ archives and finding amazing stuff. That’s the kind of work I’d love to get into, but I’m not sure how to go about it. Maybe one day I’ll figure it out, but I’ve already done a few reissues, so I’ve kind of broken the seal. I guess I could expand on that in the future.
Show Poster for How Strange it Is Album Release Show w/ Babytooth, Boreen and Tough Boys 3/09/22
KC: How long has Bud Tapes been around?
EM: I started in 2017 and did three releases over three years. Then in 2020, things really took off, and I ended up doing around 20 releases a year.
KC: What keeps you going and excited about what you do, especially on the challenging days?
EM: There are certain things that just happen, like this Spiral Joy Band release, which is really crazy. It features former members of a band called Pelt, who are the reason I got into weird, experimental music and drone music in the first place. They started in the mid-’90s and have been around a long time. One of the original members passed away, but they’ve kept going. Spiral Joy Band is an offshoot of that, and they’ve been releasing a lot in recent years.
I met my friend Rob Vaughn, who runs a label called Sound-O-Mat. He doesn’t put out a lot—just a few 7”s and CDs—but he’s been around for a long time and has worked with Pelt a lot as a sound engineer. When he found out I had a label, he said, “We should hook you up with Michael and do a Spiral Joy Band release.” I was like, “Yes, I do have a label, it’s real, whatever!” That kind of thing keeps me going—the fact that I can say, “I have this label,” and it connects me to more opportunities like that.
Now I’m kind of connecting it more with the Water Shrews world. I used to keep things separate because, with experimental music, people can be judgmental. I didn’t want people to look at it and think Water Shrews was some experimental project, or that we don’t get it. But I’m way more into that world now. I used to play in kind of indie rock, twee bands for a long time, with the whole “heart on your sleeve” thing. But now I’m just like, whatever—I don’t care what people think. I’m putting out stuff that I think fits within the same world I’ve created with Water Shrews, which is really exciting.
When I finally started following people on the Bud Instagram, I never follow anyone unless they follow me first, but I decided to follow all of my weirdo friends. And my friend Al, and a few others, were like, “What the fuck? How did I not know about this? This is so cool!” It was really exciting to see people so stoked on it. It’s a great way to make connections. You get to put on this weird hat like ‘I’m a label, I put out these records, and I could put out your record if you want’.
The Shrews hat is a little different, it’s a little more weird, and less thought-out. It’s like my “freak flag” hat.
KC: Can you share a few personal favorite releases or projects that you’ve worked on and tell us a little bit about them? Whether it’s because you learned something new, the process was enjoyable or you just like the music.
I love Shelter Music. They’re a group of folks who’ve played in a bunch of famous indie rock bands—kind of a supergroup. It’s Travis, who’s the lead of Naomi Punk, my friend Max Nordile (who’s played in a million bands in Seattle, the Bay Area, and New York), Dave, who plays bass in Milk Music (now Mystic 100s), and Steve, who played in Trans FX, a big band in Olympia for a while. Then there’s Anton, who played in Gun Outfit and a bunch of other bands. They’ve all been in so many different groups, but now they play together in Shelter Music, and it’s just this weird, free-form craziness. I always struggle to explain it, but it’s generally free music. They do a bit of hallucinogens and just make music in a park shelter in Olympia that has an outlet, which is why they’re called Shelter Music.
They started as a gathering where they would just hang out, meditate, and play. Max joined later—Max is funny because he’s totally not new agey at all, but some of the others are a little into that vibe. They’re cool about it, though. I recently learned the term SNAG, which stands for Sensitive New Age Guy, and they’re definitely SNAGs in the best possible way. It’s not the kind of weird New Agey stuff where people are trying to sell you things. These people are total SNAGs in the best way possible.
I’m super stoked on the Shelter Music CD I did called Live in a Tree. It’s a 50-minute long jam they did at an art swap in Olympia. I sat in with them before, which was both super exciting and nerve-wracking.
The Greg Freeman album was another huge deal for me. My friend Garrett Linck, who now plays in the band, had seen Greg Freeman’s band at a festival in Burlington. He was totally blown away, texting all of us, like, “You gotta hear this!”. He told me about the song Tower, which was the only song Greg had released at the time. I thought, “Wow, this is really cool.”
I don’t know how, but Greg ended up sending me his record directly—not through Garrett, because they hadn’t connected yet. I think Will from 22 Degree Halo might have helped connect us. Will ran a label called Sleeper Records, and he sometimes refers people to BudTapes when they reach out to him, saying things like, “I don’t do this anymore, but try Bud Tapes.” Greg has never confirmed that, but somehow, the record ended up in my inbox.
I was in New Mexico visiting my partner’s friends when I got the email. Normally, I wouldn’t respond to emails like that while traveling, but I was like, “Wait, this is Greg Freeman’s record!” So I wrote back immediately, saying, “Yes, this record is incredible. My friend Garrett told me about you when he saw you at the festival. I’d love to put this out.” Greg was down, and we set up a phone call to talk.
I always say to people who like Greg Freeman’s music: “He’s gunna be huge. Someone’s going to figure out how good his stuff is.” I’ll always tell people, “I’m happy to be the worst case. If nothing else works out, I’ll make a hundred tapes and we’ll make it happen.” Greg had sent his record to a bunch of places, kind of like I had done with my own stuff.
When Greg said he was waiting to hear back from a few places, I told him, “If something works out and you get a better offer, great! But if not, 100% I’ll put it out.” So that was a huge deal for me. It was the first record I put out where I didn’t know the artist personally, and it wasn’t like building a community type thing at first—but it eventually did.
It was so amazing to see Greg play in Portland and to see so many people come out to support him. It was like everyone I knew who had been involved with the label at some point came out, and it was just such a cool moment. People were so stoked, and it felt so good to see that support.
Cassette Tapes of Greg Freeman’s Debut Album I Looked Out
KC: For those who are looking to start their own tape label, what advice do you have for them?
EM: Just do it. You don’t have to have a big plan or be anyone special—just make a label. Set up a Bandcamp or Big Cartel, or start making tapes and give them to your friends. Then you have a label. Or CDs, or USB sticks with your album on it, or put stuff on streaming. Anyone can do it. It’s just about deciding that you want to do it.
KC: Is there anything you wish you knew before you started?
EM: I started when I was really low on money, so it’s been a bit of trial and error. But it’s all been fun figuring it out along the way. A lot of people go into something like this with a big plan, but I’m just happy that I’ve figured it out as I go. I’ve never been a perfectionist. If you ever get one of my tapes, you’ll see what I mean. This one’s actually a pretty good example, but usually they’re a bit stamped off-center or a little messy. I’ve never worried about making everything perfect.
The magic of doing anything creative is in the process that gets you to that point. Without failing and messing things up—like when your tape players aren’t working or you realize the stamp’s not sticking—the point is it’s a real person making tapes and trying to build community. It’s about being a person, making something, and trying to build a community. You don’t get that by planning everything out with a big team behind you. It’s just a real thing and I think people pick up on that. I’m not trying to be anyone or get anything out of this. I just want to connect with like-minded people and put out cool records. That’s what it’s about for me.
KC: Where are all of your releases out of?
EM: It’s mostly local stuff, but there are a few random releases here and there. Like, I did a couple from this group called Amigos Imaginarios, which is made up of this guy, Caleb who lives in Worcester, Massachusetts, and someone named Arbol, who now lives in France. That was actually a random submission, but it worked out.
Another release I did was for my friend Gabe, who lives in Chicago now but was the bassist in my high school band in Seattle. I did an ambient tape for him a while back. He went on to study sound design at the Art Institute of Chicago and now works in that field. He was in that program with Lula Asplund, who’s now a drone queen in the scene. She’s really popped up recently.
But yeah, most of the stuff is local, with the occasional random submission from other places.
KC: What’s on the horizon for Bud Tapes?
Yeah, there’s always a lot on the schedule. Right now, I don’t have a ton coming out, but I have three releases ready to go. There are also some long-awaited projects that will come out sometime next year. One of them is my friend Garrett Linck’s record.
Garrett’s a great guy—he plays in Greg Freeman’s bands and he’s been an old friend of mine since college. He hasn’t really made his own music in years, except for a few EPs back in college. He’s been playing bass in Hello Shark too, but now he’s finally working on a solo record, something he’s been talking about for over two years. He keeps setting deadlines and then it doesn’t happen. Normally, I wouldn’t be so patient, but Garrett’s one of my oldest friends, and honestly, he’s the reason I do what I do. So I’m just waiting, I really hope this next year is the year we put it out.
There are a few other projects like that—people I’ve told, “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll put it out.” They can cash in that token whenever. Garrett’s record is especially close, though—it’s almost done, just needs a few finishing touches. I really hope it’s out next year. With Water Shrews, we just record everything and put out tapes when we have too much material.
Along with this series, our friends at Bud Tapes are offering a five tape bundle giveaway! The bundle will include Self-Titled (2023) by Canary Room, 5 New Songs of Half Shadow (2023) by Half Shadow, Alas(2024) by Lily Seabird, Waves of Higher Bodies (2024) Spiral Joy Band and Massive Leaning (2023) by layperson, as well as an ugly hug tote bag and sticker.
To enter the giveaway, follow these easy steps below!
Every Wednesday, the ugly hug shares a playlist personally curated by an artist/band that we have been enjoying. This week we have a collection of songs put together by Brooklyn-based artist Dan Poppa of the project People I Love.
People I love exudes an undeniable nostalgic warmth while Dan achieves a level of intensity with the most gentle vocals, crafts profound narratives in very few words, and constructs memorable melodies through minimal and haunting instrumental arrangements. In part because of Dan’s status as a bedroom pop veteran with other projects like waveform* and Lola Star, there is a certain lived-in quality to his voice and a familiar honesty to the way he makes music. Packaging aching lyrics of “hit me like a brick” and “waiting to bleed by you” into melancholic lullabies, the 2024 self titled People I Love album is a tender diary of yearning met with eerie lo-fi chords, balancing raw beauty with a lingering cloud of darkness, and distilling Dan’s thoughts into some of his most vulnerable work yet.
Listen to Dan’s playlist here:
Following the release of the self titled album earlier this year, Dan recently shared a new single called “Trader’s Log”. Check out those releases as well as the rest of the extensive People I Love catalog below.
Written by Manon Bushong | Photo given with permission from Dan Poppa
Holding the headphones to his ears so as not to not hear his bandmates talking to each other behind him, Deerest Friends member Nathan McMurray quickly turns around, “This is it! This is the sound, it’s perfect.” Frances Brazas and Ruben Steiner anxiously wait to take the headphones off of each other’s head to hear their recording come together. Huddled around the laptop they all share the same giddy expression, excited to keep recording.
Sitting on an old rocking chair in Brazas’ family’s home in the suburbs of Chicago, observing them minutes and even hours earlier I was unsure of how they were a functioning band. Lost microphones and mic cables left them using their iPhone to record the kick drum and one mic to record both lead and backing vocals live.
McMurray had the idea to balance an orange tube amp at the top of the staircase and put glass and beads on top to get a rattling effect from the synth as it echoed down the staircase and into the basement. Scared the whole time that the amp would fall down, I tried to look away and focus my attention on the living room where tangled and crossed wires ran through the air and headphone cables pulled at each end. The synth kept randomly turning off, a problem that occurred because the original cable was lost and a knock off was used as the replacement.
“It was completely unnecessary, it probably would’ve made zero difference to record it in a less circuitous way, but that’s what I like about this approach. Recording is very different from playing live. I think in the recording scenario you have theoretically infinite possibilities, and I couldn’t imagine it being enjoyable if you’re not exploring or actively engaging in some level of spontaneity” said Brazas.
Deerest Friends is a Chicago-based band centered around the songs of Nathan McMurray and Frances Brazas, but you’ll find dozens of names of friends from all over credited on Deerest Friends projects. Their songs come alive through the help of their friends, bandmates and rotating members.
On their recorded music, you can hear the voices of Desi Kaercher’s haunting piano and synth lines wavering over the tracks, their drums holding everyone together, Charlotte Johnston and Xochi Cortez’s emotive strings weaving tensely in and out of parts, and Will Huffman’s iconic twee vocals echoing a catchy melody round out the record.
If you’ve seen or get the chance to see Deerest Friends live you’ll probably notice that each time you see them they may be performing with a different lineup. Ruben Steiner of Lund Surk often performs with the band, playing guitar or keyboards, Will Lovell joins in on drums or Trumpet, and Erin Boyle drops in on Cello. Most of the time audience members will find themselves getting swept up in the magic of seeing Deerest Friends live and become an honorary member, singing their favorite parts on stage or jingling their apartment keys when conducted by the band.
“You can engage in the same level of spontaneity live, it’s just completely different because the spontaneity live comes from having these limited things to work with and a limited amount of time. You get a different kind of recorded spontaneity when you have infinite options and time” McMurray said. “When you record, you have the ability to do things with instruments and vocal layering that’s just not possible to do live. If you create this kind of intense or manic energy by doing a lot of layering and getting sounds that wouldn’t typically be allowed, you can get that same idea across live if you just sell it the performance. The manner in which you perform something live is a really big part of the arrangement, and you can capture a lot of what is presented by a recorded arrangement just in how you deliver a live performance.”
Instead of trying to take their recorded music and recreate it perfectly or as close to the recording as they can every time, the band allows their songs to take a completely different form live, using the performance as a way to see all the opportunities of where else the songs can go.
“Even if a song is released, every time we play it live, we’re sort of adding onto it,” Kaercher said. “For some of the new songs, the live versions and recorded versions are very different, and I really like that. Most of the new stuff we played on [our summer] tour didn’t sound anything like the album because we were using entirely different resources.”
The band has become such a tight unit that they don’t even discuss somethings about their live performances, instead they already have an inkling of what each member likes to do or experiment on, and what parts should stay the same, and everything magically syncs up on stage.
Over the course of the 12 hour day I spent with Deerest Friends, the band went from recording Lund Surk songs, to recording Deerest Friends songs, to practicing Deerest Friends songs for their upcoming tour. Before and in between all of that we made lunch, loaded the car with gear, drove an hour out of the city and to the suburbs, ate dinner at a local fast food place, said goodbye to a member as they had to head back into the city, stood on top of Nathan’s car to try and see the Juice Wrld mural on the second story of a local brewery, picked up another member from the train station, and packed the gear back into the car and drove home.
“I find being a part of Deerest Friends to be really fulfilling because I don’t feel that I can write stuff on my own anymore. It just feels way too unenjoyable. I kind of hit a wall at a certain point, and for most of the last year, I felt like I needed to be around other people, to write with other people, and to make music with other people to really enjoy it” Kaercher said. “I’m a lot less like Nathan and Frances, I’m not really self guided. I can do it alone, but I just don’t have the heart for it. Writing with Nathan during the period Deerest Friends had separated was genuinely really fulfilling, it feels really good which is rare.”
Their days together feel almost as chaotic as their recordings, sounds stitched together by outlandish ideas and the desire to let out lyrics and chord progressions that have been rattling around in their brains for months. Their love for each other, and every person who drops in to help them complete the project keeps them motivated to spend hours upon hours together actualizing their visions for their songs.
“A lot of the way we record has to do with the immediacy of it, too. If we’re practicing or recording, and we decide we need to record a specific percussion part right now, because we’ll never have another opportunity to do it, sometimes the only thing we have is like a box of screws and toy bongos, we make it work, even if it takes hours to get the sound right.”
On December 1st, the band released two singles “Dearest Friend” and “Camaraderie,” bookends to their debut album Lamb Leaves Pasture, and recorded almost exactly one year apart.
“Camaraderie” was the last song they ever recorded in the old studio that Kai Slater had, where most of their first record was recorded. McMurray noted the emptiness he felt in the room on the last day of recording in the studio with Desi as everything but the drum kit, a room mic, and a mixer was all packed away in boxes. This truly solidified “an end of an era” and the end of the Lamb Leaves Pasture era for them.
“‘Camaraderie’ was sort of a post Deerest Friends song. It was written in a period when the band had sort of separated. After the late summer, early fall 2023. It was the first song I had written after Lamb Leaves Pasture and I wrote it in my head and arranged it on my computer in a program initially. I was staying with my uncle and I didn’t have a guitar. I was using this app, but I didn’t really know how to read or write music at that point so I would just drag the notes around until it got sounding right. It’s like a digital score and I sent Desi the sheet music for it. When I had moved back to Chicago after the summer, I was living in my old place, and I drove this little car up from North Carolina so I couldn’t take all too much, and I recorded it in my empty living room, which was just the two acoustic guitar tracks. I had taken it to Desi because I had this whole arrangement written, but I wasn’t able to transcribe the drum part, so I beatboxed it to them.”
“Dearest Friend” was mostly recorded in a practice room in the Reva and David Logan Center for the Arts in Hyde Park. It was before the project or group even existed, “it wasn’t even a prefiguration of Deerest Friends existing” Brazas said. “I would record stuff on my own and be like, ‘I guess I need to be in a band now.’”
“The actual recording process leans into a sort of maximalism, which I like. For better or for worse, that’s what my work process is like. I’m extremely obsessive about recording things. I’ll record 25 tracks of percussion. For one of our newer songs I recorded a percussion track for three hours, hitting a piece of metal in slightly different ways and some of it made it on the song” Brazas added about their recording process.
No matter how much or little time you spend with Deerest Friends, you will leave feeling their shared sense of immediacy and passion for art. You’ll start looking at all of the objects in your room differently, ripping the sheets off of your bed and cutting them up to make funky curtains, you’ll start dancing around your room and write a song only with a tambourine, which seamlessly leads to you slicing up old magazines and books to create your single cover, and reluctantly passing out when you realize you have no more sheets on your bed. Tossing and turning in your bed you might try and figure out what is missing, and you’ll come to the conclusion that you’re missing collaboration and the close community that makes art and creating so beautiful. A strong sense of friendship radiates through Deerest Friends’ music, making it feel so familiar and comfortable right away.
The band asked me to end the interview with some fun questions. We went on a few tangents about our favorite pies, catching allergies from people, our fiber intake, liver health, how we eat apples, and the sexiest era of Leonard Cohen. If you feel like you didn’t get to know Deerest Friends well enough, Desi and Frances agreed on 2010s and Nathan said “he never looked sexier than Paul Simon when he looked like a medieval entertainer.” Feel free to debate them on this topic the next time you see Deerest Friends or ask them about their favorite dubstep songs.
Scroll through for more photos of Deerest Friends.
Deerest Friends released two singles “Camaraderie” and “Dearest Friend” earlier this month. Listen to them now on all platforms.
Built upon a vivid display of collaboration and curiosity, Amigos Imaginarios is an experimental duo composed of Arbol Ruiz (Paris via Columbia) and Caleb Chase (Worcester, MA), whose blend of stylized structures, pressurized electronics and sweet flavored twee had offered quite the impression on their first two records, Pick Flowers (2021) and El Jardin Encantado (2022), both released via Bud Tapes. Now Amigos Imaginarios announce their forthcoming LP titled Ice Cream, and to celebrate have shared the first single from the cycle called “Voy corriendo”.
In just 90 seconds, “Voy corriendo” is both a subtle and sweet affair amongst the electronic tinkerings and unruffled harmonies that Ruiz and Chase use to create a green patch of charm and sustainability within its bizarre, and almost dilapidated presence. With a title that roughly translates to “I’m running” or “I’m on my way”, “Voy corriendo” flows with this whimsy of wonder, remaining both playful yet poignant in its short, and oddly charming life – like a beloved children’s toy at the end of its battery life, whose charisma is wearing down despite remaining true to its colorful demeanor and purposeful responsibility for play.
Ice Cream marks the first Amigos Imaginarios project that was made in person, having been a fully collaborative project only through email up to this point.
Along with the single, Amigos Imaginarios also shared a music video featuring a 2000% saturated video with a collection of adorable dog clipart. Watch “Voy corriendo” here!
Ice Cream will be released January 10th via up and coming Brooklyn tape label, TV-14 Recordings. You can preorder a cassette now. Check out the rest of TV-14’s catalog here.
the ugly hug 