Before you come into the world you should know // there are things that will hurt and things that won’t //
like scraping your knees on the asphalt // and the freedom right before you fell//
nobody tells it like it is // they say ‘isn’t it lovely,’ and ‘buck up kid,’ // but you learn how to breathe just by
doing it // how to dream until you believe yourself
Living Thing, the newest full length album from Oregon based songwriter Anna Tivel, is an arcing dive into
the existential. Written through the tumultuous eyes of 2020 and recorded in Eau Claire, WI in profound
collaboration with long time friend and producer Shane Leonard, these are songs of struggle and aliveness
expressed with great joy.
“I wrote feverishly in the strange chaos of that year, suddenly out of work and attempting to understand the
shifting human fabric, the depth of desperation and the overwhelming tenacity of spirit. The resulting songs
felt rhythmic and vital, with more melody and soaring chorus than I’ve explored in the past. There was no
way and no means to gather a full band, and I brought the songs to Shane’s doorstep knowing and fully
trusting the skill and exuberance of his creative imagination. Shane stripped everything down to the studs and
we rebuilt it together, just the two of us for a month in his garage studio, Shane dreaming up each sonic layer
while I chased the lyrics to one last double chorus.”
The album takes off with the song ‘Silver Flame,’ a sweeping embrace of uncertainty. ‘Satellites and angel
voices // yesterday tried to destroy us // morning came up golden anyhow // maybe there’s a great creator
// a far off planet trying to save us // but we’ve just got each other for now.’
Tivel is a writer drawn to seminal questions, and this album is no exception. She illuminates the seeking
rather than clinging to conviction. What is it that makes us human? What are we for? How do we move as
we reach toward each other, change our minds, learn to love? The nine songs that make up ‘Living Thing’
look deep into the core and do so with groove and energy. Shane brought a dynamic vigor to the table,
drawing the tender lyrical thoughts into a more potent sound world. He acted as producer, engineer, band,
and trusted creative comrade, even mixing the album on his analog board, playing the faders like an
instrument in an inspired momentary performance of each song.
“Shane gave his whole beautiful heart and mind to this record and I’ve never had such a freeing and powerful
collaborative experience. I learned so much from watching him explore in the studio. We followed the rules of
improv, said yes and tried every idea that percolated – sampled an 8 track symphony backward, looped wine
glasses and lighters, read poetry into lofi microphones, and recorded a thunderstorm into a tape machine.
Shane went on eternal drum tone quests, chased intricate melodic bass lines, and gently encouraged me to let
go and sing from a deeper place. I love this record because it feels like a joyous musical conversation with a
close friend about the big vast mystery of being alive.”
Nobody tells it like it is // they say don’t blow around on a different wind // but you’re gone and you’re not
even listening // they were wrong and the wind is a living thing // and you’re taking a picture you won’t
forget // something real and the way you remember it // you’ll be everything, you’ll be riotous // what a
feeling to be alive
Nick Delffs
Nick Delffs is not a protest singer. He’s not a gospel singer. Still, subversiveness and spirituality permeate Transitional Phase, his long-awaited second solo album. The product of five years of musical and personal growth that coincided with widespread social upheaval and a global pandemic – just as Delffs navigated first-time fatherhood, losing friends, and approaching his 40s; all weaved these songs.
Now Boise-based, Nick Delffs has been a beloved staple of Pacific Northwest music since emerging with his Portland-based band The Shaky Hands in the mid-2000s. It was clear then, as it is now, that he possessed an authentic—maybe ancient—voice. Transitional Phase is some of his finest and most vulnerable work. As the title suggests, it’s an album about opening oneself up to change, refusing the calcification that comes with age, and opting for wholesale transformation instead.
Incidentally, “Transformation” is the title of the album’s opening track. It’s a looping, percussive opener, a dub-inflected signal that Transitional Phase’s themes of change and transfiguration will not be limited to its lyrics. Like much of the new album, it was recorded in early 2020 at co-producer/collaborator Eli Moore’s spacious and strange stripmall studio on Whidbey Island, just outside of Seattle. However, when the sessions were interrupted by the onset of the pandemic, Delffs was forced to continue work back in Boise. He wrote constantly in the early days of the lockdown and entered a secluded vocal booth in his friend Z.V. House’s Boise studio. Delffs would send the resulting tracks to Moore, who often took songs in unexpected new directions. “Eli added a lot,” Delffs says. “He really put himself in it. I’m not sure I’d felt that level of deep collaboration and trust since the Shaky Hands days.” This process continued until Delffs had about three albums worth of material to sort through.
When writing, Delffs spends as much time as possible not listening to music. “That’s really helpful for me,” he says, “because then it becomes this thing where I need music, I need songs—so I have to make them.” Delffs spent as much time thinking about cows—yes, cows, like the John Gnorski-illustrated one on the album’s cover—in the recording process as he did about any particular musical inspirations. Delffs’ recent trip to India, his second, was filled with cow admiration, and he picked up some cow fun-facts along the way. “They just eat grass and somehow milk is created,” he marvels. “Their poo and pee is antiseptic and medicinal!”
Still, the memory of music sneaks into the process, as Delffs found himself thinking about Tom Petty and Talking Heads, two artists he loved in childhood. One can hear echoes of David Byrne on the angular “Power and Position”, which also serves as a spotlight for the unmistakable accompanying vocals from LAKE’s Ashley Eriksson, whose voice has been heard by millions in Cartoon Networks ‘Adventure Time’ credit music. Delffs enlisted more old friends to help flesh out Transitional Phase, including drums from Joe Plummer (The Shins, Modest Mouse, Cold War Kids), Dan Galucki (Wooden Indian Burial Ground) and Graeme Gibson (Michael Nau, Fruit Bats); keys from Luke Wyland (Au, Methods Body); strings and arrangements from composer Peter Broederick (Sharon Van Etten, M. Ward); and bass by Mayhaw Hoons, his old bandmate in The Shaky Hands.
The lush “Brave New World” looks outward, juxtaposing a smooth groove from Galucki and Hoons with heavy themes of social upheaval. The titular phrase, often used ironically, is presented here with utter earnestness, underscored by Broderick’s beautiful string arrangement. It’s one of three songs on Transitional Phase—along with back-to-back closers “A Perfect Storm” and “Egomaniacs”—that slowly transforms into a prayer. The chanted and sung lines might feel like nods to some of Nick’s favorite artists (including Alice Coltrane, George Harrison, Yamuna Devi), but they arrive on the album naturally. Delffs has long been fascinated with Hinduism, and was deeply inspired by his India trip. “Meditating and chanting are such constant parts of my life these days,” Delffs shares. “They came into this album like any other naturally flowing thought.”
“Transitional Phase”, the towering title track at the album’s center, is a perfect marriage of two aesthetics. Delffs brings his vulnerable, misty-eyed self-examination to the collaboration; while Moore and Eriksson bring LAKE’s exacting, literate DIY Yacht funk. The result is transcendently, sonically free, like those particularly melodic moments spent with Peter Gabriel or Kate Bush. “In-between words and dreams, there’s only a line,” Delffs sings in seeming self-interrogation, “And you’ve crossed over it so many times.”
The songs on Transitional Phase don’t just cross that line, they dance on it. If the distance between waking life and dreams was narrow on Delffs’ 2017 solo debut Redesign, it is almost imperceptible here. He sings (and speaks, and occasionally chants) about the changing tides of our shared troubled world and all the mysterious worlds within. He yearns and searches and remembers, and occasionally wishes he could forget. He finds faith and loses it. And when he can’t find that faith again, he admits on “Absence of Love Song” that he’ll wait “on and on and on and on for another chance.” Maybe that’s foolish. Or, as Delffs sings, “Maybe it’s today.”
Nick Delffs’ Transitional Phase is due out July 26th on Mama Bird Recording Co.