Interview: Festive People are extraordinary risk-taking rebels -

Rebellion is coursing through this country. As we speak, millions are swarming polling stations to make sure their voices are heard and that change is the only fair, likely outcome. “I don’t know how to behave / When the world feels like a stage,” John Lane, frontman of a Provo, Utah alt-rock band, acknowledges on one of the essential cuts on the band’s debut long-player, In the Black, a thickly-produced and altogether shimmering and hopeful collection. “Behave” is a solemn admission, a sort of downcast meditation on feeling pressures from all sides these days. But the fabric of the song, like much of the entire album, is subtly bright. Rounded out with Dillon Boss (bass), Cameron Faerber (synth), Brennan Tolman (drums) and Skylar Hansen (lead guitar), Festive People cut the surface with blistered songwriting of the classically rollicking 1970s folk-rock ilk. Songs like “Lover, Not a Friend” and “Hostage” are broiled with delightfully chewy effervescence. From the taste of each instrument’s playful thrusts to Lane’s sometimes arsenic-laced lead vocal, the songs size up themes of forsaken relationships and reassessing the damage done.

Produced by Nate Pyfer, known as the founding member of such bands as The Moth & the Flame, Code Hero and Night Night, as well as for his credits with Sego, The New Tarot and Parlor Hawk, among others, In the Black sees the troupe of players locking eyes with sweeping, cinematic-toned melodies and achieving next-level status. “Nate wasn’t afraid to tell us which ideas were working and which ideas sucked,” Lane, whose vocals teeter right on the edge of unconcerned and acrobatic, tells B-Sides & Badlands. The group initially recorded opener “Boxcar,” an almost spacey, psych-rock incantation, with Pyfer to test the waters, but it was quickly evident the magic could not be suppressed. “We decided to meet with Nate about creating a five song EP. I think it was about five minutes into the conversation when Nate was like, ‘Dudes, make a real statement: let’s bust out a full-length.’ We’re fairly rational people so we did the whole ‘we’ll think about it’ thing, but I remember texting Skylar right after the meeting and being like, ‘Why not, man? Let’s go for it.'”

It was a gamble, for sure, but one that paid off quite handsomely. Songs like “Live On, “Mesmerized” and “Wooden Cage” mount a tight-rope act between astonishing warmth and faded, blue-jean sadness. Ultimately, it’s the kind of music that serves to energize the band’s bones and propel them through the cosmos. “I guess, I got tired of bouncing around on stage to music we had made but didn’t really like anymore. It all boils down to making music we like,” says Lane. “The logic being: we can’t count on pleasing anybody else, so let’s at least make music that pleases our own ears. So much of what I was listening to at the time was groove-centric so we really leaned into that.”

With an armload of songs, 10 in total, the band squirreled away in a cabin amongst the southern Utah hills to focus, to create, to let their souls guide the craft. The countryside sprouted from their fingertips as much as from their firmly-planted feet, and what results is an album indebted to pain, lonesomeness, hope and the glaringly flaking flaws of humanity itself ⏤ and where they possibly fall within that scope. “Complacency is my automatic setting, and this album helped me see that if I want to achieve anything of substance in this life, I can’t run away from what seems challenging. If hard obstacles lie on the path to what I want out of life, I have to tackle them,” Lane explains of the album’s overarching spread, gathering up his senses into vast, sweltering sonic palettes that feel far bigger than anything they’ve ever accomplished.

Below, Lane discusses lessons learned of his many relationships, handling regret, habits and today’s toxic music industry.

In exploring various “shortcomings of relationships,” as you told PopMatters, what did you come to learn?

Nobody’s out to get me. I personally take everything so personally (not sure if that’s a symptom of being a songwriter or the reason I became a songwriter), and this album helped me realize that the people that actually love me, genuinely, well, they just want me to be happy and healthy. All of the other people? Well, chances are they couldn’t care less.

“Spin My Eyes” feels incredibly timeless, particularly in its melodic tone. You’ve said it explores the feeling of regret. How have you come to handle regret in your own life? How do you keep it from holding you down from living your life?

Right now, I’m focusing on distancing myself from the narrative that the world is made up of “good” and “bad” people. I don’t think anybody’s keeping score on my good and bad decisions, and I try not to make anyone else feel that way. I’m sure there have been pockets of time where I’ve made a lot of good decisions and other times not so much. Regret is a story we keep telling ourselves based on moments of weakness, and I’m getting over letting stupid things I’ve said and done in the past cloud my happiness in the present. If I make a mistake, I apologize and make it right the best I can and then try to let it go. I’m the first to admit I’m really not good at that last part, but I’m trying to get better.

What other aspects of your own habits do you feel you’ve been able to address and try to change through this record?

Working with a producer definitely changed me as a songwriter. Nate helped me learn to kill my babies (metaphorically, of course) and look at my songs more practically. I think because of this album I’m much more open to criticism, which, you can ask my bandmates, is not something I’ve always been known for.

“When the world feels like a cage, I don’t know how to behave,” you sing on “Behave.” What does that mean for you?

The culture of speech is changing faster than anyone can keep up with. Who’s allowed to say what to who? While I think these changes are, for the most part, wonderful and a sign of progress, this song’s hook is centered on the idea that social media has created a stage for us all. Our ideas can be broadcast to the world without us even realizing it.

“Live On” has got to be one of the album’s most emotional, and in it, you explore how a former relationship forever haunts you and those around you. What’s the story there?

I feel like this song is a bunch of stories wrapped into one: dating in Provo, Utah feels like a conveyor belt. There are so many single people there, and they’re mostly living the same standards through the same religion, so it’s okay if tonight’s date doesn’t go well, the date lined up tomorrow afternoon has a lot of promise. It was a difficult experience for me. I don’t know how I got so lucky to find my wife there, but I’m glad I did.

“Wooden Cage” is a fictional song, but how do you connect to it?

“Wooden Cage” is a story about my friends dutifully coming to see what must feel like the hundredth show my band has put on. At some point, I honestly feel so bad and self-conscious about friends coming to shows, and I wonder what keeps them coming back. Is it duty? Guilt? Or do they genuinely enjoy watching me lose my mind on stage?

Musically, “Mesmerized” is another definitive standout, in which you state “this will be my very end.” What are you trying to shake here?

Have you ever been with someone you know is bad for you but you just keep getting drawn back in like a moth to the flame? I’m trying to shake what’s bad for me. When I was younger, it might have been a girl (that is what I was thinking about when I wrote this), but now it could be a host of bad habits I’m trying to break free from. One that comes to mind is my deep and abiding obsession with sugar.

While centered on relationships, do you find the album’s melancholic nature to be reflective of what it’s like to be a working musician today?

Oh yes. The music industry is the worst part of being a working musician. It’s toxic. It’s selfish. I feel no camaraderie. I feel like we’ve given everything to make this album, but we all know deep down there’s a good chance it won’t go anywhere. So much of success in the music industry depends on other people; realizing that has taken its toll and you can definitely hear that in the album. It’s so difficult to feel optimistic about anything music related, but all we can do is continue to work hard and enjoy the experience.

https://open.spotify.com/album/22ngR5BXZE9HOoitKcNtKH?si=5o8XuJPTQU6asQiJHVirlw

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