When COVID-19 stormed through the nation in mid-March 2020, practically the entire country was confined to their houses, needing to find ways to entertain themselves for months on end. A large chunk of people decided to pick up bizarre, unlikely hobbies or creative pursuits, only to ditch them within a year’s time once regulations eased down and a sense of normalcy was restored. In the case of Toro y Moi though, also known as Chaz Bear, he had safeguarded his lockdown project for three whole years and finally wound up sharing it with the world on Friday (August 25).
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Sandhills, Toro’s latest five-song EP, is much more than just a handful of tunes the 36-year-old whipped up because he didn’t have anything better to do. Instead, it chronicles the sensations he felt during the three months in 2020 where he returned to his hometown Columbia, South Carolina. Waiting out the pandemic with family, the first time in a long time he’d spent this many consecutive weeks in Columbia, Toro was smacked in the face by nostalgia. So he decided to write about it.
Whether it be the EP’s opener “Back Then,” where he croons about his first few moments back in South Carolina, the second song “Sidelines,” where he touches on the intoxicating culture of high school football in the southern United States, or the fourth track, “The View,” named for his alma mater Ridge View High, Toro succinctly yet effectively paints a vivid picture (much like the Sandhills cover art does) of what his upbringing felt like, and what those few months in 2020 reawakened inside of him.
I didn’t tell anyone I was comin’ home and I stayed for three months
Spent the summer in South Carolina, doin’ what I want
What adds an even greater sense of intimacy to Sandhills, though, is the sonic approach Toro employed on the 14-minute EP. Following up intensely produced, widely-beloved studio albums like the psychedelic rock-influenced Mahal (2022) and the synth-pop/dance era that was Outer Peace (2019), Toro’s latest effort may be the most dramatic shift in sound that he’s ever undergone as an artist.
Stripped down and reliant on a guitar and raw vocals to do much of the heavy lifting, Sandhills sees Toro circle back to a folk and Americana-inspired palette that he hadn’t revived since his earliest days as a musician over a decade ago. But, just as he does with any new style he enriches himself in, he’s able to grasp the essence of these genres without struggle, proving even further how much the South is embedded into the fabric of Toro as a musician.
Earlier this month, Toro sat down with American Songwriter to discuss his motivation and thought process behind Sandhills, and why he ultimately chose to go in this direction. Read our conversation below.
American Songwriter: How long ago did you start working on the EP and when did you finish it?
Toro y Moi: Probably like six months ago, something like that, I turned it in. But this is a set of songs I started in 2020. I really did decide to go home and reset and think about songwriting from a different perspective. It was written in South Carolina.
AS: I know that you spent a lot of your life growing up in South Carolina, and you went to school there. Would you say that the writing is in perspective of that, your upbringing, or more about you going back in your adult life?
TyM: This is from the perspective or the lens of a Southerner who’s left the South, but is still in love with the South. It’s from a contemporary perspective. It’s not really from a youthful [lens], but it’s more of a reminiscing writing about home.
AS: Listening to the EP, there’s hints of Americana and folk, and a lot of acoustic guitar in there. I know you said that this is something you’d been looking to do. What do you think this sound of music speaks to?
TyM: I mean, the very first songs that I wrote as Toro y Moi, they were all more acoustic and folk, stemming from the era of Animal Collective’s Sung Tongs, and Elliott Smith, and Modest Mouse. I kind of felt like the indie world was definitely where my guitar brain lives. So if anything, that’s where I’m coming from with this record, this is for the suburban misfit.
AS: Around the time, or even before you put the EP together, was there anybody that you were listening to that you were drawing inspiration from?
TyM: Yeah, I did listen to a lot of Smog and Bill Callahan. And a lot of Red House Painters. And even Duster.
AS: How would you define the genre or sub-genre that this EP is taking on?
TyM: I really love the term freak folk. It’s already a real genre, and I just think that referring to that genre is probably the best way to describe the mindset of this. It is a bit of going against the grain of all the genres that it’s touching on. I do feel like it’s a form of folk but it’s a little bit for the outsiders.
AS: With most of the new albums/projects that you make, it tends to feel like you make it a point to adopt a new sound. Looking back on interviews you’ve done revolving around prior albums, it’s often framed as, “This is a departure from his last sound into a new sound.” Is that something that’s always on your mind going into a new release?
TyM: I’d say partially. It really is just natural and innate for me to just want to dabble in a little bit of everything, but it’s all timing as well. I try to avoid repeating myself, so I think, maybe, the genre hopping helps with that. The pendulum makes it a little bit more accessible.
But also, when quarantine and lockdown happened, this necessity to be a little bit more solo and compact emerged. And the songwriting just sort of reflects where I was.
I just wanted to follow through with making some visuals for it and [I] secretly was down to put it on wax. So it took some extra time. I really feel like this was just something I needed to do. To essentially go home, musically.
AS: Would you say that, before putting out something like this that feels new, that you feel like you’ve mastered the sound? Or is there a comfort in uncomfortability?
TyM: That’s a great question. Yeah, I do believe in putting in your 10,000 hours. You have to learn the craft before you can really break the rules, for it to be a success. You can get lucky and do something amateurish, and it’s its own thing. It is outsider to just go at it. So that is kind of what my approach is. To do my version of a certain thing, but leave enough room for it to be me and also be what is supposed to be. Letting it be an R&B song, or be a house song, or be a painting. There’s different ways to apply this, but it’s definitely a bit of a ‘learn the rules to break the rules’ kind of thing.
AS: So with this new sound and taking on genres that you haven’t really approached in a while, is there anything that you have to teach yourself instrumentally or vocally? Or re-learn?
TyM: I think one of the hardest things to work on was the cadence of my voice. Trying to find the right timbre that really resonates with the guitar the right way and the room and the instrumentation. I wanted it to have twang, and twang is in the voice. And South Carolina twang is its own thing, so just tapping into that and working with finding a sound that is made for a smaller room, not necessarily big theaters or arenas.
AS: The songs on here, I feel like they contain some of your most thorough writing in a long time, in terms of vocals and how you’re actually putting together verses, hooks, etc. How are you able to flip that switch?
TyM: With Toro, it’s always been a reflection of either myself or society. And so, for me, I really found that stuff that really hits the most substantially is when I go inward and write about myself. I think, for this kind of record and genre, going within is the most efficient way to get a message across. There are certain things to write about to make it country, and there are certain points that make it country, so I feel like you have to kind of work within that frame but then try to find little places where you can slip in your identity.
AS: On “Back Then,” you mentioned you came home without warning, without telling anybody. And that got me thinking about you living in Berkeley, California now and how much that city has really embraced you. So, at this point in your life, where do you feel most at home now?
TyM: I feel at home probably equally in both. I do, in my mind, live in both places. I might visit one less than the other, but I have family and I have friends still in South Carolina that I call daily. So yeah, I feel like home isn’t necessarily one location, but I’m actually starting to feel at home everywhere.
AS: Getting back on South Carolina, when you returned after all those years, did your outlook on the city change at all from when you originally lived there?
TyM: Yeah, there’s so many things that were different. Obviously, I wrote about that kind of stuff. But I mean, there are so many changes on the outside and on the inside of the South. The biggest thing was coming back and realizing that other people have moved on, or that your friend circle isn’t exactly the same, or that it’s nonexistent. So, going back to your small town, you realize that you’re not your location, you have to find yourself without your friends there. Or you have to find yourself and sometimes your family’s not there. For me, it was just that kind of thing. Going home, wanting to be around my family, but they’re all going to work everyday and stuff like that. Some of them were working from home, but it’s funny, you’re just around a different environment as if things are moving without you.
AS: The second song “Sidelines,” the way that I resonated with it is that it’s an anthem for kids whose parents want them to play sports, and they don’t really want to. Would you say that’s accurate?
TyM: Yeah, it had to be done. I felt like that kind of representation of, maybe hard and brutal sports isn’t your route. It’s okay. But yeah, I do think in the South, football is so ingrained, and you almost have to try it, as a Southerner.
I was on the field on a Friday night
Third-string, had to swallow my pride
I got thrown in on the fourth and five
Just so they could take a knee
Oh, I was only thinkin’ ’bout my six-string
AS: With “Said Goodbye to Rock n Roll,” what was your mindset going into that song?
TyM: There’s something about simplicity that can really just satisfy our ears. A guitar and vocal just by itself, just those two things, I felt like the album needed one song at least that could showcase my appreciation for that genre, especially blues. The thing about that kind of blues song is that they have to be light hearted and taken with a little bit of sense of humor. So yeah, I wanted to just find my own thesis for the record, which is saying goodbye to Rock n Roll and trying to tap into something more than the shiny stuff.
AS: I kind of interpreted it as a double entendre, where Rock ‘n’ Roll can also just mean the fast life of being a busy musician, where you said that it made you sad and cold. Do you look at this EP as kind of a pitstop where you can catch your breath for a little while and then return to heavy instrumentation and more of your trademark sound? Is it a pitstop or is it a fork in the road?
TyM: I think it’s just a little pitstop. Just getting some gas. Catching my breath. Yeah, I’m 36, still feel enthusiastic about what I’m doing. Tour has been more fun than ever too, so I feel like I’m at a place where I enjoy it. So I want to just keep it going.
Say goodbye to rock and roll
Made me sad and made be cold
But instead I told myself
That it’s all just for my health
AS: I feel like the release of this EP is really timely because it very much has a feel of summer transitioning into fall, with it being about down South and all the football correlation. And the cricket sounds you put at the end of the “Sandhills,” I thought that was a really cool touch. The way that I received it was, “This EP literally feels like the month of August.” Was that your intent?
TyM: Yeah man, I want you to feel it. I want it to take the listener there and they enjoy the good parts. People can see [South Carolina] as all these negative things, but the way I see it is peaceful. Sure, there’s a little bit less going on, it might be a little bit behind on the trends or something, but that’s not what it’s for. It’s not thriving off of that type of culture. It thrives off of like, football. You have to embrace the peace wherever you can find it. It’s different.
AS: What would you call this era of your career?
TyM: That’s hard to say. If anything, I do feel like I’m in a bit more of a brutalist era. I feel like that’s just a reflection of the world around me. I do feel like it’s almost like a renaissance. Like a brutalist renaissance.
AS: You touched on that a bit on Mahal and even projects before that. Being able to find inner peace, but then outer peace is where there is really a challenge.
TyM: Definitely. I feel like it’s more than just American politics that’s causing the chaos. That’s one of the seeds, but there’s like so many things that can really get to us and it’s all about self control really, and balance.
Photo by Chris Maggio / Orienteer PR
