Meet Thin Lear

Easy going and in control, the music of Thin Lear has helped me find a lot of peace since discovering it. The singer-songwriter conjures new but somehow familiar spaces in their slow driving tracks. Their 2020 release “Wooden Cave” is a great introduction to their work. Give it a listen, and read up about this terrific artist in our latest interview.

a self-portrait by, Thin Lear

Would You Rather

only be able to buy things with coins or by trading random objects? Please explain.

Definitely buying things with coins. With the random object thing, you're really at the mercy of whoever's willing to trade. What if I want a warm jacket and all my neighbor has to give is a throw rug? Do I wear the throw rug as a jacket? Do I cut out armholes in the rug? Actually, that's maybe a bad example, because I could probably make it work. But you get the idea.

Some questions with Thin Lear

If you could create your own Ben and Jerry’s flavor, what would it be?

They haven't really explored Italian cuisine yet, so maybe something with red sauce? Chicken parm? It'd be impressive to trigger both lactose intolerance & acid reflux in a single bite.

What was the creative drive behind your 2020 release “Wooden Cave”?

The story of a woman named Netta Fornario, which you should all look up, as it's fascinating. I was drawn in by the mystery & sadness of it, and I started to see her complicated story as that of an artist. I found I had way too much in common with this person who left the Earth in the 1920s. Once I made that connection, and wrote the opening track on Wooden Cave, the rest of the record just flowed so easily. It was a beautiful writing process, and I can't wait until the next time something takes over my brain so thoroughly.

Sonically, I wanted to make a record that sounded lush but intimate. I wanted it to sound like George Martin producing the Elephant 6 Collective: at times raw or luxuriant in the arrangement, depending on the necessary feel of a song, or section of a song. That was the goal.

What are your thoughts on streaming platforms? Have they helped or hindered the industry?

Modern streaming is kind of just like a really organized Limewire, right? I will say that Spotify doesn't give my laptop nearly as many viruses as Limewire did, so that's a plus. And also when I stream a Leonard Cohen album, it doesn't turn out to actually be a Billy Joel album. I think it's a necessary evil, as someone was going to come along and do it. Bandcamp has a great model, as they seem to be artist-centric.

With Thin Lear being a solo project. How important is collaboration to you?

For every record, I find a few folks that I can butt heads with, as it's a pretty essential part of the process. If I don't have a bit of conflict when I'm creating, there ends up being too much "me" on the record, and the sounds start to get homogenous. My collaborators tend to put up with a lot from me in the recording & mixing process. Although, the new record I'm working on now was made conflict-free, so maybe I'm maturing in my old age.

I used to trust collaboration way less. I had a vision and I stuck to it, come hell or high water. I had to learn to grow out of that mentality, to be more malleable and listen more, to be less selfish with it. Since then, I feel like every record has been a massive step forward artistically. Letting go of the stranglehold on my own work was the best decision I ever made.

What has been your brightest moment of 2020 so far?

Releasing the album this summer felt like a weight off. It was such a relief having it out in the world, especially as, at times, it seemed like it might never happen. Being quarantined for so long, I really felt like I wasn't communicating with anyone. Getting the record out there was a satisfying way to put my heart on display. It was like reaching out to the void to find kindred spirits. Ultimately, I feel like that's one of the main reasons I make music. Releasing a song is like putting up an antenna or holding up a sign: "Who out there can relate to this?"

Getting to spend a lot of time with my wife was also pretty spectacular. This was our first year of marriage, and it was definitely a unique one. The one positive thing that came out of this nightmare was that quarantine afforded us alone time. I'm grateful for that above all else this year.

How do you navigate releasing an album during quarantine?

By the skin of my teeth. It was obviously an insane time to be releasing anything, but unless you're like a wealthy and/or chart-topping artist, you can only throw the brakes on the release machine so many times before all the wheels fall off. So we pushed back a few times, and eventually, we had to pull the trigger. The entire time we were going through the release cycle, I kept questioning my motivations: Why am I doing this? Why is it even important to me that people hear this? Definitely not the kind of questions I typically ask myself during a release.

But as the year wore on, I rediscovered the importance of daily music listening for my own sanity/happiness. I know it sounds crazy to say, but when I'm writing or recording, I tend not to listen to anything, as so much of my brain is preoccupied with my own melodies & arrangements. This year was different, as I needed as much melody as possible in my life. I returned to the music that calmed me as a kid. It was a bit like regression therapy or something. I had a renewed perspective on my own work after that. The write/record/release cycle is not simply habitual or compulsive. I do it to communicate and it fills my heart. After that rediscovery of true motivations, it became a much more enjoyable release process, chaos and all. And to see the reactions we got from people, both from the press, with NPR, American Songwriter, Allmusic & the PopMatters staff, and all the folks who bought the album and reached out to me, it all just made me feel lucky to have gone through the whole experience. I really wasn't expecting the reaction we got. I have a new perspective on releasing music now. I became so determined to be heard that I started to forget why I wanted to be heard in the first place.

What is your favorite thing about the NYC music community?

Talking about venues that don't exist anymore and discussing a time we played to no one in each of those now-dead venues. I had a discussion with someone recently about getting heckled at Goodbye Blue Monday (an old Brooklyn venue). Those experiences actually turn into very enjoyable memories. I remember those shows just as vividly as the great ones. The venue I miss the most is probably The Living Room. Great atmosphere.

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

If you're looking to spend a cozy winter evening by the hearth (Do you have a hearth? I don't, but it sounds nice), Wooden Cave is the perfect album to soundtrack that experience. Also, to close out the year, remember the beauty we lost and the beauty we still have: listen to John Prine's Bruised Orange, Toots & the Maytals' Funky Kingston, Emitt Rhodes' self-titled debut, & Bill Withers' Still Bill.