The scene opens to a room full of colorful smoke. The smoke is thick but smells amazing: like a dozen wildflowers on a hot summer day. From the yellowish smog to another earthy color, the smell changes to a dark, woody tobacco scent that lingers and invites all to come, sit, and relax. Through the smoke is a group of wizards chortling and pointing at each other as they lean into their silliest sensibilities, joke, and tell sensational stories about many things: sunsets in Sudan, Peruvian Pisco, or mountains in Mongolia. They’re travelers who’ve gone further than any mortal could wish to travel in several lifetimes. One jokes that his friend is as old as time itself. The other laughs and shakes his head, waggling his finger and, through much sputtering and coughing, wheezes that he’s only about a fraction of that age: he’s only as old as the hourglass sitting on the pedestal nearby—and that’s after his ancestors made the universe in their giant explosion. The smog thickens as another, tall friend blows his smoke trails from his pipe, resembling a river. The smoke collides with other smoke streams and passes over other travelers who playfully dive underneath to avoid its crash course against a group of instruments silently performing in the corner. No musicians play them, though, as they’re held up by invisible strings, orchestrated by a jubilant group who are magically conjuring them to play.
This album was mesmerizingly joyful and nostalgic. The prior scene is what I pictured immediately while listening, combined with the album cover.
Can you tell me what headspace you and your collaborators inhabited while creating this enchanting music?
The mood of the album is probably shaped by a kind of winter calm and escapism, especially considering the realities of the world today. There was a desire to immerse myself in a different reality, away from everything happening around us. A bit like going to the cinema, theater or a concert and finding yourself somewhere else for a while.
There was also a desire to simply enjoy a pleasant everyday routine without rushing or constantly feeling the need to go somewhere, achieve more or outdo yourself. But all in all, it was just another creative turn, another year and another period of musical exploration.
As the festivities continue, one wizard sits in the corner, pleasantly tapping his foot along to the gorgeous, mesmerizing rhythms reverberating off the walls of the small cavern. The smoke remains thick but has started rising and falling slowly to the circuitous drum patterns emanating from the silent performers. He peers at his aged hands and chuckles softly as he commands a fleet of ants to begin building a structure of sticks that form a bridge into a cupboard nearby containing spilt sugar. He flicks his wrist, and the cavern’s roof splits slightly to allow smoke to exit, but also a curious bird searching for food to enter and bring back food to its nest. They’re all welcome, so long as they enjoy themselves. The joyful vibes are collaboratively conjured; the only rule: if you join, you must be your true self—naturally, that’s enough for this group of friends to accept and invite you into the celebration.
I imagine that each performer, e.g., your friend playing the slide guitar, also abided by these unspoken principles in this wizard meetup.
For you, how did each performer “conjure” the playfully mystical vibes on this record?
I would say the wind is the connecting thread throughout the album. I wanted it to feel like a warm, gentle wind, something that surrounds you and keeps you in comfort, without carrying you off somewhere dark or frightening. It brings us as musicians, the birds, into a kind of free journey or dance driven by the pulsing rhythms. To me, the wizard on the cover is actually the wind itself. The sound of wind also appears throughout the album tying everything together.
We’ve been playing together for so long that we understand each other almost without words. It doesn’t take much time or explanation for someone to come up with the right sound or mood. Everything happens very naturally.
A dog nearby the man cuddles against its bed, breathing in deeply before exhaling a slow, satisfied breath. The aroma from the smoke interacts with its brain in ways the human mind cannot comprehend. With each of the melodic descents throughout the song, “Luminous,” for example, the smoke moves into the dog’s nostrils, igniting a trillion neural receptors that spark what one could only describe as a deluge of colors in its brain. Why open your eyes when you can already see the diverse palette on display in this room?
Another pair hugs each other affectionately. Somehow, when they hug, more than two pairs of arms wrap around each other; somehow, their large wizard hats and oversized clothing embrace each other as well. They chatter quickly and generously with each other—every word is a gift that they give and receive, even in their lengthy lives; nothing is wasted. The instruments continue jamming away in the corner, providing more warmth to firmly bake these memories into the friends’ memories because every moment is unique.
What color palette was uniquely your experience during the creation of Where The Birds Fly, and what is it about your latest album—i.e., the creative process, listening in hindsight—that was “baked” into your memory?
I would say the color of this album is transparent. In that sense, it’s colorless, but at the same time it can contain any color you want it to.
I remember certain fragments very clearly, but not really one complete picture. The album came together through different sessions, some planned and some completely spontaneous, each adding new colors to the album.
What I remember most is the very beginning, when I met with drummer Leonid Galaganov and we recorded the foundations of all the compositions with just piano and drums. It felt a bit like putting the first layer of paint on a canvas: the tunes are just beginning to take shape, but there are no clear outlines yet.
One wizard alerts the others that their friend is missing: no doubt they had too much to smoke and joyfully left the cavern unattended by a more lucid companion. Everyone laughs, shaking their heads and raising their hands to conjure their friend back into their celebratory realm.
Right before the spell takes effect, one motions for them to lower their hands and open their minds to a new approach: magic-less, modest, and mundane. They wink at each other and nod their heads. One begins to conjure another spell to open the cavern door, but the other playfully shakes their head again. They laugh together as the other lowers their hands, and each takes a step out into the world to find their friend.
The last one to leave is the dog, who appreciates the extra walk at the end of the day, taking one last puff of the enchanting smoke before exiting with the rest.
As you continue to grow in your artistry, how do you stay grounded in authenticity while creating music with others who inspire you to expand or alter your own sound?
I’ve often said that making music is a bit like keeping a diary for me. It changes over time, just as I do. I think it’s natural to be attached to certain habits and things that feel familiar, but at the same time you can’t really stand still forever. At some point you get bored and need variety and movement. Music works the same way for me.
Every musician I work with inspires ideas that I might never have come across on my own. On this album I was lucky to work both with musicians I’ve been playing with for many years, such as Volodja Brodsky, Leonid Galaganov, Ilja Gussarov, Sasha Petrov and Anya Dotsenko, and with people I’ve met more recently. Tomo Katsurada and I released our collaborative album Eternal Almost earlier this year, and British pedal steel guitarist Joe Harvey-Whyte was kind enough to record a solo for one of the tracks.
Ideas often come through the process itself and that’s something I really enjoy. You start with a certain direction or a basic idea and then along the way it can mutate, change and develop into something new. That’s what keeps making each album unique and interesting for me.