#robbbarnes

THE PALE LIGHT

After cutting his teeth with For the Mathematics and Higher Rights, Robb Barnes (RB) was looking for a new challenge: enter The Pale Light. We spoke about his history playing music, love for vintage keyboard sounds, ideal meal companions and the end of the world. Check out Future Eaters and read on! 

VITALS

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/thepalelightmusic/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/the_pale_light

YouTube: http://bit.ly/2oYgXQW

Latest Release: Future Eaters (LP, Mar 2017)

Upcoming shows: Stay tuned!

SA: How did The Pale Light come to be? RB: The Pale Light came about in early 2016. I was thinking of starting a podcast and then got some gear to record. Once I had it, I thought to myself, "I've got some gear on hand - why not try to record some music instead?" I had stopped writing music for awhile. I would write some tracks to jam with friends, and I would still play guitar regularly, but I had dropped regular writing since Higher Rites (my last band) dissolved in 2010. The experience was pretty liberating; modern technology makes it feasible to write and record all instruments and put out a decent-sounding record. So the band was simultaneously a way to explore audio engineering and to start working on music again in earnest. It was also a chance to indulge my growing interest in vintage keyboard sounds. 

SA: What bands, musicians or artists would you cite as the biggest influences on your sound? RB: The bands that influenced my old music continue to resonate today - groups like At the Drive-In, the Mars Volta, etc. But I think the biggest influence on the Pale Light's sound is probably Operators, a band led by Dan Boeckner (Wolf Parade, Handsome Furs). I love the synth sounds on that album, and there's a real energy when the keys are paired with a bad-ass rock band. Other influences include Interpol, the Strokes, Twin Shadow, the Cure and Nine Inch Nails.

SA: Thus far in the band's lifetime, what has been your biggest success? RB: So far it's been writing, recording and producing a full length on my own. No fancy studios, no guest musicians, no producer - just me in my basement, agonizing over kick drum sounds, synth sounds and getting a sweet sound out of my old amps. The whole experience was challenging, but also very exhilarating. From a creative standpoint, it was also liberating. I love playing with other musicians, but there's something very cool about being able to sculpt every sound on an album yourself.  

SA: On the other hand, what is the biggest challenge you have faced, and how have you dealt with it? RB:  I think the biggest challenge has been psychological: convincing myself that this is something I could commit to again. I tried really hard with my older bands - I put a lot of money and time into practicing, touring, recording, gear, etc. Because I took my past projects so seriously, I ended up pushing other things away - important things like finishing school, investing time in relationships, and getting a reliable or rewarding job. Now I'm at a different stage in life, and I'm working on a way to integrate music into my daily rhythm in a way that balances with other priorities, while not at all sacrificing the music or the live show. I think I have the formula now, at least conceptually. Time will tell if I'm right.  

SA: How do you approach the song-writing process? RB: Well, it used to be very bass-driven or guitar-driven. I would think of riffs and then write around them, usually with a fast tempo and Latin rhythm. That was the case with For the Mathematics and to some extent for Higher Rites. Now, with the Pale Light, a lot of it starts with keyboard sounds. I play around with different melodies using different keyboard sounds until something cool starts happening, and that usually materializes into a riff or chord progression. Then I write around that. As someone whose main instrument is guitar and not keys, it's liberating in part because I don't really know what I'm doing. What key am I in? Does this song have a major or minor scale? These questions get answered in time, but when I start the songs I often have no idea what's actually going on, technically speaking. It's also cool from the vantage point of a guitarist and vocalist, because it leaves so much space for those instruments.

SA: What are your thoughts on the Ottawa music scene? RB:  It's been awhile since I was fully engaged in it, but I'm looking forward to jumping back in. I think Ottawa is underrated. At the end of For the Mathematics, I was living in Montreal. Higher Rites lived and died in Toronto. Both of those cities are wonderful places, and I have musician friends who are doing quite well in the Toronto music scene, but I'd rather be in Ottawa. It's a good size, and there's a sense that the musicians who stay here are committed to building community. In Toronto, there's this expectation that you're in the big leagues and you have to be a little more vicious or self-interested, or something like that. In Ottawa, I never felt that way. People here love music and they want to help others who love music. It's as simple as that.  

SA: Your recently released album, Future Eaters, is described as being about 'creeping fascism and the end of the world' on your Bandcamp page. Can you unpack that description a bit more, and has what influences your song-writing changed over the years? RB: Lyrically, all three bands share a kind of autobiographical approach, with heavily reliance on metaphors and other imagery to make the messages sound more universal and less awkward. When I was in For the Mathematics, a lot of the lyrics dealt with interpersonal relationships. To a certain extent, that remained true in Higher Rites. Now that I'm happily married, there's not much drama to report on the interpersonal level, and so that doesn't manifest itself lyrically anymore. But I am heavily engaged in the environmental field, and the political field to a certain extent. The lyrics on Future Eaters reflect a sense of loss and dread at the dawn of the Age of Trump, but also point to more systemic concerns. Many scientists now argue that we're entering a new geological age that they dub the Anthropocene. This age is characterized by the dominance and pervasive impact of humans. I look around and all I see is impending climate catastrophe and supposedly enlightened humans chewing up the natural world, either literally (eating animals) or figuratively (oil and gas development, cascading biodiversity loss, rampant ocean acidification, plastics pervading our water bodies, etc.). This album is about reconciling my life as an activist with my hopes for the future, and my angst about the utility (or lack thereof) of political engagement.

SA: Given your history with bands of a variety of genres, what made you want to follow this style with this band, and how has your song-writing approach compared or contrasted with past projects? RB: On this project I finally had the opportunity to slow things down a bit. I really wanted to build long, lush passages of sound where melodies could really stand out. And as a writer this meant I needed to rely on something beyond the usual guitar-bass-drum dynamic to keep it all in place. So this project really allowed for experimentation with keys and drum machines. This was also an occasion to really be heard as a vocalist - to stop yelling and to start singing, allowing the words to stand out be understood. In the past, I distorted the hell out of my vocals and then usually buried them in the mix. This time I set out to be understood, and to let the message of the music stand out. As for what led to it, I think it has something to do with coming of age in the 80s and 90s. Although Nirvana and Metallica are what really got me into being a musician, that stuff was predated by some pre-grunge and non-metal 80s and 90s stuff that also feels like a part of me. Stuff like old U2, Bruce Springsteen - even Sinead O'Connor. Some of that music is hugely dependent on good synth sounds, and it was fun to try to recreate some of that feel while remaining rooted in the indie rock world.  

SA: You have the change to sit down for a meal with three musicians, dead or alive. Who are they, and why? RB:   Kurt Cobain, Cedric Bixler-Zavala and Julian Casablancas. I started playing guitar because of Nirvana. If I could talk to the ghost of Kurt Cobain, I'd ask him what was going to come next after In Utero. I started taking touring seriously because of At the Drive-In, so I'd like to thank Cedric for blazing a trail and just being this fount of restless creative energy. As for Julian Casablancas, I modeled the songwriting approach and aesthetic in For the Mathematics after the Strokes, as much as that might not sound obvious. I've always enjoyed his tendency towards sonic experimentation, even when it doesn't work out. I'd like to hear what makes him tick.