#maxwell-thomas

My first foray into political music was the Rock Against Bush! albums that released shortly after 9/11. I didn't pay much attention, thinking all the music was relatively uninteresting to me. That's typically how I feel about political music. I understand the artist's are supercharged and passionate about the issues facing our society / world, but the best music comes from genuine expression and every time I hear an overtly political track, it just reeks of pretention. That's not to say any of that is true... But look at the film Inside Llewyn Davis. It's a film about folk singers from the 20s (40s? somewhere in all that...). Watching it made me realize I needed to speak about more than just "love" and "girls." Which was a hard thing to break. I grew up listening to Phil Collins, UB40, Chicago, etc.: these cats almost primarily sang about love and relationships. Even all the Motown hits constantly on my mother's radio sang about boys, girls, and all the magic between sexes. Getting away from that was something I would have to conscientiously accomplish.

Lucky for me the transition came rather easily. Though I stumbled for a short while wondering what to sing about, when I was 26 the lyrics started flowing effortlessly. My life choices were unintentionally disastrous and the fodder I'd need for great songwriting was suddenly right at my fingertips. Now 30, only getting older, the existential dread that began to creep in a handful of years ago only looms closer. Enter: Daisuki Baby. It's the first time I've felt really happy and really excited about the music in front of me. Getting the appropriate lyrical content is non negotiable and my efforts to get it completely perfect seem to be working well. Hence why I was able to write a song like Gaslighter. 

It's essentially about Donald Trump and how he's a liar, a criminal and needs to be removed from office. The lyrics came to me because of a phrase Chris Martin (Coldplay) said in their documentary: "sometimes I just write songs about the day I've had, really nonsensical stuff just to practice songwriting." Whether you like the man or not, that's some good wisdom. Before, writing music was so deliberate of me. I'd only write lyrics if it meant I was writing a song. But is there any real practice in that? Any discipline? After hearing Chris' words I began taking my "joke" songs more seriously. I.E., throughout a normal day I'll randomly sing about dumb things not realizing that if I put an effort to do this regularly, it could actually be a great exercise. Not only that, but recognizing the value in processing your day through song might reveal the hidden gems within it that carry a great narrative. 

Gaslighter emerged because I was writing a song called Arrival. The words that initially came to mind were about how I'd finally started getting my life right: had the dream girl, the perfect record in production, a great job, etc. Everything was coming up Stevo. But as time went on and things started to disintegrate, my life changed. And those words meant less and less. One day on my way to work, I had just picked up a latte from Whole Foods, one of my "weekly victories," and the words just sortta spilled out for Gaslighter. "Deny these claims, sit atop your throne of lies." Realizing it could be Trump at the center of my tune, the rest emerged rather easily. Here were these feelings dwelling within me that I never would have thought to put to tune, yet because I heeded some random indirect advice, Gaslighter is easily one of the best songs I've ever made. 

It took a while to come together, musically, and was a song my drummer, initially, wanted to abandon. I swore to him I heard the potential and that we should really stick it out. After a few weeks of "changing this" and "modifying that," Gaslighter really began to take shape and we knew we had a winner on our hands. Where it would lead was totally unexpected though.

The first incarnation of “Surrender Your Love” was written right as I went to college. I distinctly remember getting the arrangement settled and needing to go home for the weekend so I could record it into my Sony Acid DAW. My parents were more than happy to see me. But it was too funny that I’d just left for this grand adventure and I was already asking to come home.

“Surrender Your Love” was so exciting because it felt like my songwriting had taken a major leap forward; I was peering into the future, seeing my exact musical trajectory. While it’s probably the least popular song on the EP, I’m perfectly fine with that, because it was also the first song written. The fact that we only got better as we continued playing and composing together is a great, wondrous thing I’m proud of, not disappointed by. Additionally, SYL was always really strong in a live setting too. The bridge is enormous, capturing an almost celestial atmosphere, one that would always turn heads. We consistently played it last at our shows, but I always thought we could open with it so that way we’d capture people’s attention straight out of the gate. I think we may have done that once...

Fun story: there are jingle bells in the bridge. You may not even notice them because they’re so perfectly mixed into the track. But since this was my first real studio experience, I ended up being completely spoiled by our engineer. I said, almost jokingly, that I wanted bells and he said, “Okay, let’s go get them.” So we drove to a music store down the road and rented a box of percussion goodies, getting the jingle bells I requested. Since then I’ve never found another music store that rents percussion like that and since then I’ve always pined for this luxury. I’ll also never forget that our engineer introduced me to fresh jalapenos. While at Five Guys he asked the drummer and I if we were gonna get jalapenos and I told him I wasn’t totally a fan. He scoffed at me and said, “Are you sure about that?” When he handed me a cup of vibrant green jalas I said, “These are jalapenos?” My experience up to that point had been either with poppers or pickled ones, never fresh. So that’s also the exact day I fell in love with jalapenos (and consequently, many other spanish peppers). 

There are many lovely memories attached to this record and for one reason or another, I’ve ignored those stories for years now. I’ve had some good reasons, I’ve had some silly ones. The point is TGIT was where I really started my musical journey and I fully believe that by embracing it, it’ll also be the point that I can continue forward.

When I wrote “Surrender Your Love” I swore I saw my future. I just didn’t realize I’d be only now stepping into that moment...

“Infinite” is the song I can’t give up on. Its first rendition was written in my mom’s basement during my senior year of high school. Since then I’ve re-arranged, re-recorded and re-written this sucker several times. Highlights include an acoustic version which gave me the inspiration to bring it on board for “The Ghosts I’ve Touched” as well as its latest incarnation, the mix that arrived for the “At Last” EP. But of course, everyone will tell you: I got it best on TGIT. 

Something we did that I’ll probably never forget is we recorded the acoustic sound of me playing the intro riff on an unplugged semi-hollow. It provided this crystalline quality which is the major benefit of collaborating with others. It’s far easier to try weird ideas (not that this was very weird) when someone else is handling all the production and someone else is focused on performing.

While I’ve gone ahead and axed several sections from this arrangement when I perform it nowadays, the original composition is still impressive. Love or hate my 6-minute songs, people who “get” the sound are always upset when I decide to trim things up. For my album “Translating the Veil” I tried to have songs where sections never repeat each other, and from start to finish you get a new movement every 30 seconds or so. This was so I could keep my artistic intent in place without having songs going over 5 minutes. Nevertheless, while I believe the execution is striking, the lasting impression is fleeting. You can’t grasp onto anything and even I look back thinking those tunes were a stretch. What I believe Ghosts at least gets right is that it gives you time to sink into its parts and really absorb what’s happening. While the songs are extensive, sections stay only as long as they’re needed.

To appreciate “The Ghosts I’ve Touched”, time had to pass. Because when it came out, it was far too ambitious of a project for what I was trying to accomplish. I wanted to be popular, I wanted people to listen to my music. But truly it was the one and only time I made something genuine and with the right tools. Every other release since then has been botched by some issue, which is usually me trying to reach for the stars when I don’t even have a rocket. To go forward, I truly need to accept TGIT and get it back into the world. It’s often referred to as my crowning achievement and whenever I defend my new music I always tell fans, “It’s only because Ghosts sounds so good.” Which, I stand by that. Immensely. But how many times am I going to have to say that and still insist on producing my own music?

When I was 26 I got some very, very bad advice. I was encouraged to be my own mix engineer even though I knew I never wanted to go that route. It was from a person in my life who always insisted on taking the hardest road possible. At that time I was very low, confused and broke. Thinking I had no other options to get the music out, I started writing, producing and mixing my own music. Since then I have agonized over multiple records, using all my time, energy and money to get things right. Yet nothing has ever landed the same way Ghosts did. And nothing will: I don’t have the skills to get my sound where it needs to be. Admitting this has been liberating and it’s exactly what’s allowed me to re-release Ghosts in 2020. And by embracing this fledgling EP from a decade ago, I have the proper mindset to progress into the future. 

I wrote “T.G.I.O.” last for our EP, “The Ghosts I’ve Touched.” The title is a riffing of the popular phrase, “TGIF.” Only mine was the ultimate break up banger, “Thank God It’s Over.” I thought it would be cute. I’m well aware the humor hasn’t aged well.

How this song came about is a lot more foggy than the others and I only barely remember writing it. It was the one song the drummer and I wrote completely from scratch together, as opposed to me bringing tunes to the table. It’s mired by an overly long arrangement, but the segments move between each other wonderfully and if you can hold on tight, there’s a definitive roller coaster of emotion. 

Particularly, I’ve always loved my lyrics on this one. “Oh my God, what have you done?” is really devastating and poetic, earning this track the accolades it received from fans about being an amazing “break-up” song. My voice is stretched to its tippy tops during the choruses and that edge of precision sounds really pure and beautiful, though it’s nearly impossible to reproduce live. My only wish is that I’d been more prolific with my backing vocals to really fill it out.

I think the bass guitar had the most mojo, too. I recall dialing in the tone using a Fulltone OCD pedal and the engineer and I looking at each other going, “That’s the one.” We always said the guitars sound like “nothing” and “everything” all at once, which was probably thanks to my crappy semi-hollow Washburn guitar. I purchased it used at Modern Music in Lisle, IL. Sold it for whatever stupid reason to a kid in downtown Naperville in my 20s. I’m only now regretting that decision. We decided to send it through a Mr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde overdrive pedal which was ironic because the guitarist from the band that booted me for starting Romancing the Angels used it as his tone as well. Lol.

“Spite the Devil,” track 1 off “The Ghosts I’ve Touched,” has a few neat stories attached to it.

Originally, I started a band called “Romancing the Angels” after forming a trio with a female singer. She was the lead vocalist / songwriter while the drummer and I arranged the tunes. Us boys gave her rustic, folky tunes a stadium rock upgrade and this track was initially known as “Mr. Moon.” We loved the song, we loved playing it and people loved to hear it. We thought for sure this was a project destined to go somewhere.

But like all good things, this came to an end; a very sudden one, at that. Literally out of nowhere our vocalist dropped out, essentially ghosting us, and to this day, I still have zero clue what happened. No matter how many times I asked for clarification, the answer never came and I eventually dropped the subject. 

“Mr. Moon” needed to live though, so we formed our version, “Spite the Devil,” which is a phrase from a band called The Envy Corps. In their song “Rhinemaidens” off the album “Dwell,” singer, Luke Pettipoole, croons, “spite the devil, spite him.” At the time, I was obsessed with their music and thought it was a neat way to pay homage to their sound. I can’t remember what came first, the phrase or the overall lyrics, but it’s 100% where I got the inspiration to write the line, “I spite the devil for pulling you away, is there a way to live without your love?”

The song was written about my high school girlfriend. We had just broken up after nearly 2 years and it was a roller coaster of a falling out. The entire EP ended up being about her because my barely adult mind couldn’t process anything else at the time. But the universal concept at its core approaches love like a hospital patient; ours was on life support and I was the one in the room waiting patiently for a glimmer of hope. In the chorus I admit that I’m not the same without the dynamic we once he had, but she wasn’t the same anymore either, so the big question was, “What were we fighting for?” It’s a song about love being one-sided and wishing for different outcomes, though intellectually realizing that approach is futile.