Despite Midlake’s freewheeling Big Pink- like approach to summoning music from the ether, the recording of For the Sake of the Bethel Woods marks the first time the band has worked with an outside producer, in this case DFW studio stalwart John Congleton (St. Vincent, Swans, Angel Olsen, Guster). So, while one person wasn’t calling the shots when it came to songwriting, the band says it was helpful to have somebody else doing so when it came to laying down tape. “Absolutely,” Pulido and McClellan say simultaneously. “There’s no overthinking things or overanalyzing,” McClellan says. “You can come up with a million different ideas, so you have to have somebody say, ‘That’s the one.’ The famous quote from John during the sessions was ‘Could do …’” “Part of recording in general is getting in a psychological state where there’s this bal- ance between being self-conscious enough that you can sort of edit as you go along but not too self-conscious that you think every- thing’s just shit,” Chandler says. “John was really able to help us with that in a way that nobody’s feelings were hurt, and nobody has to be controlling or tell people what to play. ” Nichelson says: “At first, you don’t know what to expect, because it was different from how we had ever done things, but it was fine. Everyone let go of that really fast. It was a positive experience. I hope we get an- other chance to do something like that.” Pulido says that on prior records the band produced themselves, it was difficult to settle on a certain take or idea since there was so much overthinking being done by everyone. “Like Jesse and Joey were saying, there’s just an interpersonal relationship with each other that at this point that someone in the band is liable to become ‘the filter.’ It’s like, no, John’s that guy,” Pulido says, laughing. “We’re going to let him be that guy and trust him, lean on him. I just think there’s no going back now. It was such a great experience.” “I think, for all of us, a lot of the time we work better when first or second takes end up staying,” Chandler says. “Sometimes in the past without a producer, it’s been like, ‘Well, let’s just try that again, and maybe the next one will be better. Maybe the next time we’ll get it.’ Then 4 and a half hours later ev- eryone hates the song at that point.” “Did you say 4 and a half hours later?” Smith interjects. “I think you mean 4 and a half months later.” Everyone laughs except Chandler, who knows the feeling Smith’s talking about all too well. “Everybody has the music in them already,” Chandler continues. “The drum takes especially. Those first one or two takes have the most magic, and having someone like John say ‘Let’s just stay’ and everybody just goes ‘OK’ without discussing it amongst ourselves was really helpful.” “There’s the extremes,” Nichelson says. “I think I’m somewhere in the middle. In be- tween liking to work on things and just sort of letting it rip. Tim is one extreme, but the process on this record with John Congleton was the other extreme of ‘We’re not going to mess with it too much, we’re just going to play and let it rip.’ First takes, etc. There is a balance, and I probably wouldn’t go as far as Tim would, but that’s why I hope we get an- other chance to do this. We’ve just scratched the potential of what we can do together.” Drummer Smith, who up until this point has been relatively silent, takes the reins. “I don’t like tinkering. I’m anti-tinkerer. Even starting with Antiphon, the previous albums were made in such a different way; there’s an art to the process in which those albums were made. Writing individual drum parts, crafting it and being so meticulous with ev- erything. Some drummers know every fill they’re going to play on every section of ev- ery song before they go into the studio and record, whereas I’m just the opposite at this point. I don’t enjoy that at all. I like knowing very little information about the song other than kind of the structure. …” “It’s because you’re a ‘jazzer’ at heart,” Chandler interjects. “Kind of, but I also feel that’s how John Bonham would approach a song, too, or a lot of other drummers,” Smith says. “There was a freedom. Like they knew the song, but when they went in to record it, it was more about the energy of the performance. Drum fills might change, but it’s about being reac- tive to the performance, being in the mo- ment of creating something. I don’t look at it like ‘Here’s an opportunity for a drum fill, watch me go!’ I try to play the drum set as part of the song and react off the vocal lines, react off what’s happening around me. Most of that happens in its most pure and raw form in the very early takes. ” Smith says that improvisational excite- ment is present in everyone in the room. “I’m around other musicians that are great, and I think that’s what makes this band great, everyone has their own unique, individual personality,” he says. “It’s been very freeing to support one another. There isn’t this pressure like, ‘Jesse I want you to be something that you’re not.’ ‘Joey, I need you to play guitar in this way that you don’t nor- mally play, I want you to do this for me.’ “Instead, you just say ‘Joey, what do you feel like doing? Play something.’ When you allow musicians to just be themselves within a certain context and have an outside ear like John say ‘Yeah, this vibe’s not working’ or ‘You guys are on to something,’ that really is helpful, and that’s kind of how the whole al- bum was done. I wasn’t joking when I said 4 and a half months later. We spent months on ridiculous things in the past that in the end never made anything better. In fact, I think we have historically ruined lots of good mu- sic by beating it to death.” All this “freewheeling” talk of “freedom” reminds Chandler of For the Sake of Bethel Woods’ initial inspiration: the 1969 Wood- stock Festival, which Chandler’s late father attended. A painting based on an image of him in the massive, mud-logged audience, captured in the Woodstock documentary, is the album’s artwork. “That event obviously was just a moment in time over a weekend,” Chandler says. “Even though they recorded it, it was just a fleeting moment in time where all this music just passed through the air.” Before Midlake’s reformation, Chandler had a dream in which his father instructed him to continue making music. That moment marked the beginning of the return of Mid- lake. However, one conspicuously absent component from Midlake’s journey this time around is founding bassist Paul Alexander, who decided not to rejoin the band. 214-350-1904 11AM TO CLOSE WEDNESDAY-SUNDAY 10261 Technology Blvd E, Dallas, TX CHECK OUT OUR WEBSITE FOR THE MOST UP-TO-DATE INFO! www.amplified-live.com @AMPLIVETX @AMPLIVETX @AMPLIFIEDLIVETX UPCOMING SHOWS >> p18 17 17 dallasobserver.com dallasobserver.com CLASSIFIED | MUSIC | DISH | CULTURE | UNFAIR PARK | CONTENTS | CONTENTS | UNFAIR PARK | SCHUTZE | FEATURE | NIGHT+DAY | CULTURE | MOVIES | DISH | MUSIC | CLASSIFIED | DALLAS OBSERVER DALLAS OBSERVER MARCH 3–9, 2022 MONTH XX–MONTH XX, 2014
