When it comes to songwriting, Conor O’Brien isn’t always interested in being cerebral—if a song can cut through all the noise of our world and stir something inside a listener’s heart, then it’s a success.
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At least that’s what was informing the 37-year-old mastermind behind the indie-folk band, Villagers, when they were recording their sixth studio album, Fever Dreams (out August 20 via Domino).
While Fever Dreams captures the same holistic energy and eclectic production as the rest of Villagers’ discography, it also marks the beginning of a new era for the Irish outfit. In the past, O’Brien did most of the compositional heavy lifting on his own… this time around, he brought the ideas to the band early on, letting them grow and develop in that group context. In the end, the approach endowed the record with a “lived-in” quality—each song breathes naturally and flows effortlessly, making them seem less like they were written and more like they’ve just been floating around the sonic cosmos for eternity.
At the same time, the past 18 months have proved to be a significant period of growth for O’Brien, as an artist and simply as a human being. Taking time to work on his personal “blind spots,” the voice he takes towards these new tunes is one of a man longing to understand. Hopping on the phone with American Songwriter, O’Brien shed some light on what that’s all about. Speaking about everything from the record-making process to spiritual jazz to reading feminist theory and more, the discussion was as wide-ranged as it was insightful. Read the conversation below:
American Songwriter: You started working on this record prior to COVID hitting, yeah? What was it like then? How did it begin to change after things shut down?
Conor O’Brien: It started in late 2019, early 2020. I got the group of guys who had been touring with Villagers for the previous few years together as the band—we had gotten pretty tight playing live. I had all of these half-finished ideas and I thought, for a bit of a change, we could work through them as a band before they were finished, which I’d actually never done before with Villagers. So, it was basically mumbled lyrics and jamming and getting groves, synth textures, and all of that. We’d do that, take it home and then maybe a few weeks later get back together. I would have more lyrics written and we’d do it again. So, there was a lot of back and forth. The very last day we were booked with the band to record was the very first day of the first Irish lockdown. So, we squeezed it all into the little bit of time we had, then spent the rest of the year messing with files and working remotely, sending it to string players and brass players and all of that.
AS: You were quoted as saying: “Sometimes the most delirious states can produce the most ecstatic, euphoric and escapist dreams.” What was your “delirious state” and how did it augment your writing?
CO: For me, that “delirious state” in relation to my writing was a result of living too much on screens and looking at too much stuff on social media. I mean, the past five years have been a weird time for the world. I was trying to filter that, but I realized that I didn’t want to write an album that was overtly political—I don’t think I really have the brain for that stuff. Or, if I do, I’m not sure it would make great music. So, I decided to go in the other direction just to create a big bath of warmth. I think that made the music more sensory, rather than narrative or academic, you know? I just wanted to express more of a sensual type of thing—I wanted it to be the kind of thing you could enjoy on a superficial level, but then if you put on headphones and take a deep listen, you could dive in even deeper.
AS: That’s fascinating that you were going for that gut, “sensual” thing—especially since you express so many thematic ideas on Fever Dreams with the music itself. As in, you’re dealing with a concept like nostalgia, and you’ll pair it with a very nostalgic sounding synth tone, using the production as an additional thematic tool.
CO: That’s an interesting one for me because it’s quite a fine line. Presenting ideas with audio can be really powerful sometimes… but other times, I think it can actually kill a song. There were a few moments with this record, even, where I took things out because maybe they were a little over the top, taking it into more of a musical theater place. I have no problem with that style at all, but I think on a record, that can weaken it a bit.
But a few moments like that came through. On “Momentarily,” there’s a part where I sing about the light from the car mirror hitting my eyes and in the background, there’s a sample of another car beeping its horn at you. It took me about two months to decide that I was going to leave that in! But in the end, that moment helped illustrate the narrative of the song, so I’m glad I left it on there.
AS: What was inspiring you during this record-making process?
CO: I’ve been listening to a lot more jazz these days, getting back into Duke Ellington again. I’ve also been getting into spiritual jazz, like Pharoah Sanders and Alice Coltrane and all of that stuff. I found that really cleansing and inspiring—it’s just not my world, but it feels like something so extremely magical. So, if I can even insert just a little bit of that feeling into my own music, I’ll be happy.
I’ve also been reading a lot too. I returned to William Butler Yeats and Patrick Kavanagh, old school Irish poets, as well as some more kind of postmodern stuff. I was also reading a lot of feminist literature too. When I went to college, I was studying English literature and sociology, but I’ve started to realize that I was really only learning one aspect of that lineage. So, I’ve decided to try to make my blind spots a little less blind, trying to enrich my life a bit outside of the algorithm blues that we’re in now.
AS: How does it feel to finally get this record out?
CO: I mean, it’s just exciting. I’m so busy right now—we just did a couple of days or rehearsals and I’m getting ready to go back to the UK for a BBC 6 session. I’ve been doing this for 10 years now and I’ve enjoyed it so much, but I really feel that there’s a newfound level of appreciation. When you realize what can be lost, you start to feel it a bit deeper. Every piece of music we’ve played over the past few months has felt completely magical. I’ve held it quite close to my heart. So, I’m feeling lucky to be back at it again.
Villagers’ new album Fever Dreams is out now—watch the music video for “So Simpatico” below:
