The Bros. Landreth - Come Morning

US Publicity: Jaclyn D. Carter | jcarter@shorefire.com | 615.655.4872 or Olivia Del Valle | odelvalle@shorefire.com | 571.242.9598

Come Morning is our third full-length album as The Bros., but despite the band being nearly ten years old, everything about it feels like a first. Due to the pandemic, we had to challenge ourselves to step outside the comfort of habit. 

Our first album was a happy accident. We made it because we wanted to be a band so badly, and we understood that if you wanted to be a band, you needed a record. We didn’t have enough songs at the time, some of them were still being written as the sessions were unfolding. We were flying by the seat of our pants and in the process we happened to capture something that was raw and honest, and a small, but growing group of people fell in love with it.

That record took us on the ride of our lives with hundreds of tour dates and festivals across three continents, record deals, brushes with our heroes, a handful of great nods and accolades, and even a few awards. It was a wild, beautiful, and crazy adventure, but it took a toll.

Our second album, ‘87, almost didn’t happen. Dave walked away from the band for a few years between 2016 and 2019, he needed a break from the road — I made a necessary pivot and put out two solo records — Whiskey, and Hindsight. When we decided to record a sophomore album for The Bros., it was fraught with confusion, resentment, and tension. Dave and I both desperately wanted to get back to making music together, but there was a lot to unpack. We went into those sessions without a clear picture of what the album was going to sound like and though we’re tremendously proud of how it turned out, it never ended up being the comeback record we dreamed it would be. It took us just over two years to make that record and the process felt like we were fighting it every step of the way.

But, we finally got it together and released it in September of 2019. We toured it for a few months before the pandemic hit and the album campaign was cut short.

Shows were cancelled, marketing initiatives were abandoned, t-shirts sat piled up in Rubbermaid bins, but with all the distractions evaporating overnight, we managed to find a clarity of purpose as artists and creative partners that we hadn’t managed to connect with since we first started the band almost 10 years ago. With all the fog lifted, the only thing that we wanted to do was to write songs and play them together. We made this record almost entirely in my studio space, just Dave and I, and our long time producer, hero and dear friend, Murray Pulver.

Our process has always been to get our band together in the studio to try and capture the most inspired bed tracks, and then build the songs off of that foundation. It has meant that our songs have always had an element of spontaneity and improvisation, but often lacked the intentionality that has become the cornerstone of this album. We were forced to make this record differently because COVID restrictions meant we had to stay in a tight bubble. We ended up building these tracks one instrument at a time, with painstaking attention to detail. It wasn’t a chore though, it was a labour of love. We wanted all the sounds to help tell the story. To show the listener who we are through our expression. We obsessed over tones and parts - we recorded, then re-recorded, then scrapped everything and started from scratch.

We tore these songs down to the studs and built them back up piece by piece. In that process, we ended up doing the same for us as a band and as people. The long hours in the studio with no one else around gave us a chance to work through some of the friction that had built over the past decade of touring. We bonded again over our shared love for this crazy thing that we get to do for a living - that we get to do together.

I had a vision for this record in a way that I haven’t ever in the past. For once we weren’t winging it, we weren’t flying blind. I heard sounds and musical ideas for these songs and I had the freedom and the space both physically and emotionally to explore them, develop them, and bring them to life.

Surprisingly, playing guitar wasn’t at all a priority for me. I have spent the last half-decade sinking into my identity as a guitar player. When the pandemic broke out and there was little to no desire to play, I was confronted with a dilemma. Who am I, if not only a guitar player?  I tried initially, but found that I was going out of my way to try and make room for it and it wasn’t bringing me any satisfaction. Guitar will always be my first language, but I felt compelled to create in a different space. All the time spent working in the studio over the past few years has allowed me to find a new fluency behind the desk. It’s starting to feel as comfortable as I feel with a guitar in my hands. I’m no longer just trying to capture a sound as well as I can; but now finding myself making creative decisions about how capturing sounds differently can have an emotional impact.

This new approach bled into other avenues — singing differently, arranging the songs in ways that we haven’t before, and it also gave me the confidence to stretch out and play some new instruments. I cut all the piano, synth, and B3 on these songs. I am proud of the guitar playing that made it onto the record, but I really feel that it, along with everything else, is only there to support the stories that we are telling.

The songs that we’re singing on this record feel more personal and vulnerable than anything we’ve done yet, and, unsurprisingly, these are easily some of our favourite songs we’ve written. We’re diving more intensely into our own stories. If you start with our records from the earliest through to this one, I think there’s a path that begins with songs that explore more superficial ideas and gradually works its way here, to what I really think is a more profound scrutiny of who we are and how the history of our lives have shaped us into the Dads, partners, friends, and musicians that we are now.

This record isn’t meant to be an autobiography. These songs are definitely our own musical therapy. Music has long been cathartic and transformative for us, but that’s not why we choose to share them. When I am moved by music or any artform, it’s always when I can see a shimmer of myself — a piece of my own humanity comes through it. My hope is that we are telling these stories in a way that allows listeners to see themselves and their own humanity looking back at them. 

For us, that connection is what brings balance to the introspective nature of the art that we make. First we make it for ourselves, but once it’s done and released — it gets a new life with anyone that finds comfort in it. Our songs become your songs, our stories give way to your own. 

Every single album provides an opportunity for some type of growth and transformation. It’s not mandatory of course, but every time I head into the sandbox to make something new I feel that little incessant tug, encouraging me to push a little bit further, to reach for something just slightly out of reach. You don’t have to answer that call every time, and some days, try as you might - you just don’t rise to it, but it’s always there. I really believe that we rose to that occasion with these songs and we allowed ourselves to step outside of what was comfortable to make something honest, vulnerable, and real.

Joey

A note on collaboration: though this was the most isolated record we’ve ever made, we didn’t actually make it in a complete vacuum. We were really fortunate to be able to work with some very incredible people:

Murray Pulver

Murray Pulver,  was an effortless choice to be our guide through these songs. This is our fourth record together and creatively, he understands us better than just about anyone else. His deft ability to help us sort through clutter and stay focussed on the heart of things is an incredible gift and made him a brilliant co-producer. Nobody helps us feel more like ourselves than Murray does. He’s a beautiful human being and we owe him more than we could ever repay for his patience and mentorship over the last decade.

Aaron Sterling

We were only able to get one band session in during a window where restrictions were eased (more on that later), but we quickly found ourselves having to organize remote sessions to lay down the drums. It was a really challenging hurdle to get past, it just wasn't how we'd done things before. We struggled with how impersonal it felt to record this way, but we knew it had to be done or else the record was going to stall out. When we made the decision to press forward it felt a bit like hopping into a creative abyss… We figured we would make a list of our absolute favourite drummers, start at the top and work our way down. Aaron Sterling (John Mayer, Taylor Swift, Shawn Mendes, Lana Del Ray) was right at the top, and like everyone else, he was stuck at home waiting for the world to come back. He responded enthusiastically to the demos, so we started sending him some tracks as we worked our way through them. The sounds and the ideas that came back sounded so great, were so creative and so inspiring, that any apprehension or anxiety was completely erased. “Drum Day” became one of the highlights of the sessions, and we went from thinking he’d play on a few songs to sending him all seven of the remaining tracks. Initially, we sent him songs when we thought they were mostly done, playing to a click-track or programmed drums from the demos. We quickly realized that he was providing such cool ideas, that we started sending him stuff earlier and earlier. By the time we were on the last few tracks, we were only sending him acoustic guitar and scratch vocals to cut his tracks to. His percussion and drum parts brought so much creativity and inspiration to the songs that we were having more fun using those drum tracks to anchor the arrangements than anything else.

Greg Koller

Unlike reaching out to Aaron Sterling, who was extremely accessible, our first pick to mix the record, Greg Koller, proved to be more elusive. Greg is responsible for some of our favourite sounds that have ever happened on a record. Specifically, what he did on Blake Mills’ Heigh Ho, We’re All Gonna Die by Dawes, and Mac Miller’s Circles. We knew we wanted someone who could honour our intention with these tracks, but could also bring a healthy dose of their own aesthetic and creativity. We really wanted to float the record past Greg, but the email we found online was bouncing back. So, we put in a call to our pal and unofficial “fixer”, Danny Schwartz. Danny is a musical polymath, drummer, children’s entertainer, engineer, you-name-it, but we met him when he was promoting shows in D.C., and became life-long pals immediately. Danny didn’t know Greg, but he gladly accepted the mission to connect us. Danny, coincidentally, was walking out the door to start a run of dates tour managing for Aoife O’Donovan. Griffin Goldsmith, the drummer from Dawes, was in the band. It was one of the first tours happening in the US after the lockdowns and, thanks to supply chain issues, rental vans were non-existent. The band and crew were going to be touring in a convoy of sedans through the mid West. Danny’s plan was to trap Griffin in a rental car and blast his favourite Bros. Landreth records for two weeks, hopefully converting him to a fan. At the end of the tour, he’d ask for an intro to Greg. I have no idea how subtle Danny was and we’ll never know if Griffin was a convert or just sick of hearing our records on repeat. We got a text a few weeks later with a phone number and a message that read “He’s expecting a call!” Greg is a genius and the choices that he made with the sounds and this record are bold, confident, and artful. He ended up bringing so much to the final effort and we couldn’t possibly be any happier with it.

Leith Ross

I first heard Leith Ross when I was living in Toronto back in 2017, and was immediately drawn to their incredible voice and sincere songwriting. We became fast friends. When they sent me the roughs of a live project they had recorded during their last semester at Humber (music college), I knew that I wanted to put it out on our new record label, Birthday Cake. We were able to help Leith by putting out a few projects and helping them find a great manager. We’ve watched their career unfold in the most magnificent way over the past 18 months. They found a feverish audience online of people starving for the stories they’re telling. The only feature on this album is their harmony on  I Don’t Feel Like Crying and it’s one of our most cherished moments on the record. We’ll be dragging Leith out on tour with us in March through Europe and the UK and I won’t be surprised if we’re opening for them by the end of the trip.

Daniel Roy

Before COVID forced us into remote sessions, we did get one solitary session with one of our favourite humans — Daniel Roy. Dan is a brilliant artist and drummer, deeply respected on the Winnipeg scene. He has been one of our musical heroes since we were kids and we used to sneak into the bar to watch him and Murray play in their local super group, Ego Spank. Dan’s musical sensitivity is unmatched. He’s one of the most delicate and nuanced drummers you’ve ever heard. We cut three tracks with him (You Don’t Know Me, All You Can Do Is Cry, I Don’t Feel Like Cryin’) and those songs bring a very different energy to the rest on the album. I think, in a lot of ways, they act as a bit of a bridge between some of our older material and these newer more adventurous arrangements. 

Joe Pisapia

Joe Pisapia recorded and played on one of our desert island albums, Sing it Loud by k.d. lang. I follow him on Instagram and shot him a message to see if he wanted to take a swing at adding something to You Don’t Know Me, which felt to me like it needed just one more piece to find it’s balance. I didn’t give him any direction, just let him respond to the track. The pedal steel part that he sent back gave us all goosebumps. It was brilliant and haunting, and tastefully lifted the whole track. It was perfect.

Roberta Landreth

We’ve trusted Dave’s wife, Roberta, to translate our music from sound to artwork since our first record. Since then she’s done the same for over a hundred albums for other artists and has picked up more music awards for graphic design than we can count. With this record she worked really hard to find the thread between the songs, culminating in her incredible album packaging. Her ability to cross those mediums adds so much context. The album isn’t truly realized until you can see how she interpreted it visually.

Paul Yee

Paul Yee, my landlord, recording mentor and dear friend of 20 years added his expertise on much of this record. On top of recording the beds on You Don’t Know Me, All You Can Do Is Cry, and I Don’t Feel Like Crying, and offering advice on nerdy studio stuff, he capped the recording sessions by adding a few choice percussion tracks that were the cherry on top before we sent them to mix.