Field Guides Shows Us the Way

By Sean Maldjian, Contributor

Photo provided by, Felix Walworth

 

Meet Field Guides

A self-portrait by, Field Guides

Would you rather…

spend 48 hours inside a Target or inside a Petco?

I'd spend the first 24 hours in Petco acquainting myself with the animals and plotting their escape; the next 24 hours would be spent finding sanctuary once we've blown the coop.

Some questions with Field Guides

Hey, It’s been a minute. How have things been going?

It has been a while, huh?! The last time we spoke (back in 2019) feels like a lifetime ago; so much has happened since then and it feels like a different world. I've been alright! It's been a busy several months, but in good and exciting ways. I actually just got back from a trip to Berlin, where I met my friends' new little one, saw some fantastic art, and ate some delicious and cheap food. So I feel very fortunate and inspired. We're excited to play more shows.

What animal do you most identify with? Why?

You might not realize just how difficult a question this is for me! I was talking with some friends about just this question about a year ago, really struggling with it when a guy walked in, overheard our conversation, and very matter-of-fact-ly exclaimed, "You're a loon." Which I think I've subsequently embraced. I've been fortunate enough to encounter loons and their haunting calls a few times in my life. They're odd and elusive creatures, and some people might describe me similarly. I learned recently that they've evolved to be so well-adapted to swimming—with their legs positioned so far toward their rear—that they have trouble walking on land. I can relate to feeling out of place in certain environments. I also have a pet snail named Fred, and I think we can all aspire to be more like Fred, to slow down and be more gentle.

If you could write the score for a movie by any director ever who would it be? What would the movie be about?

I'm not a huge film buff, but I would love to score something by Claire Denis (whose soundtracks are often by The Tindersticks, a band I love) or Kelly Reichardt (Wendy and Lucy, Meek's Cutoff, etc.). Or maybe Asghar Farhadi or Yorgos Lanthimos. I love all their movies and their use of music.

Perhaps the movie would be about an anthropomorphic loon spending 48 hours freeing all the animals from a Petco, despite having trouble walking on land. A tale of overcoming hurdles and finding friends while fighting oppression.

What is the food you get delivered most often? Do you have a favorite place to get it from?

I try not to get food delivered too often. But I have a few favorite spots in my neighborhood. For All Things Good is a mostly vegetarian Mexican spot with a really great ethos and a delicious mezcal mushroom tlayudita. Joloff is an incredible Senegalese restaurant that's been in Bed-Stuy since the 90s. Café Calaca is run by some buddies and serves some yummy empanadas and excellent coffee. And Maya Congee Café is a great little spot that's great for a hearty, spicy bowl of congee.

If you could rename New York City what would you call it?

Hmmm, I can't think of anything clever at the moment, so maybe I'd open it up for a city-wide vote and we'd end up with something like Boaty McBoatface?

How is the world going to end?

I'm not sure we have to speculate too hard at this point. Of course, something of the world will survive, but we're clearly witnessing the escalating collapse of a stable planet and climate, which is pretty terrifying.

Can you tell us a little about your album Ginkgo? What was the creative drive behind the release?

When I started looking at the songs I'd been accumulating, I realized that almost all of them happened to mention trees. So those big leafy pillars became the conceptual frame. I invited a bunch of friends (more than 20 in all) to bring these stories about anxiety and grief—and trees—to life. Shannon Fields and Nico Hedley were creative partners in making it all coalesce, in harnessing the chaos. It feels like the most personal and honest thing I've ever made, but also the most collaborative. The drive was very much to create something cathartic with my community. I don't have too clear a perspective on it at this point.

What was going on in your life when recording Ginkgo? Did it shape what ended up on the album?

Oh, so much happened during the writing and recording of this album. I nearly moved out of the country, traveled to some beautiful and extreme places, quit a 13-year job, floundered through unstable employment, had an intense romance blossom then burn, experienced the surreal collective trauma of a global pandemic, met some brilliant humans, swam in astonishingly idyllic bodies of water, struggled with mental illness, fell more deeply in love with my friends and the world... I think all that seeped into the music.

How do you feel about the album's reception so far?

I am dumbfounded and humbled whenever anyone engages with the stuff I make, so I feel incredibly grateful that some folks have found some comforting or curious or provocative company within these songs.

Any final comments? (This is your electronic soapbox for one last answer.)

This is a desert rain frog: