It has only been a week since Athens’ favorites Mothers released their debut LP, When You Walk a Long Distance You are Tired, and already the accolades are flowing. What began as the solo project of singer-songwriter Kristine Leschper has grown into something of an underground sensation earning national acclaim. But while the band has much to celebrate, they’re too busy trying to stay sane in the midst of a four-month tour to focus on their achievements.
The new LP is a staggering emotional journey through the mind of Leschper, fleshed out with delicate yet stark instrumentation. In only eight tracks, the four-piece engage in a tender deconstruction of folk that is never weak or insipid. There is a storminess which lurks beneath the simplest of Leschper’s lyrics, and her understated delivery only serves to amplify the controlled chaos provided by Drew Kirby’s often angular guitar work. Though When You Walk a Long Distance You are Tired sounds like a magnum opus, for Mothers it’s simply the next natural step in this stage of their musical journey.
Despite their exhausting schedule, Leschper, Kirby, and bassist Patrick Morales were able to summon the energy to answer a few of our questions regarding the new record, tour life, and what they love about Athens (spoiler alert: it mostly involves getting a full night’s sleep).
You have mentioned the dichotomy between subtleness and aggression when talking about your recent work. How does this play out throughout the record?
Kristine Leschper: This record exists more on the subtle side of the spectrum, but it has its moments. From the very beginning, writing and performing music was a way for me to say the things I’d wanted to say but never could, or never did. It was weirdly like this act of retaliation for my injuries. It was about standing up for myself — it was selfish, and maybe it still is. So there was a lot of aggression inside of those early moments of self-discovery, when I was writing the songs that are on this record. It’s pretty apparent in lines like “I cut out my tongue, seeing yours would speak for the both of us.”
Drew Kirby: I think it goes both ways as well. A lot of the aggressiveness isn’t super blatant, it’s implied by being brutally honest versus being outright brutal. Musically, I think we toe kind of the same line. I think we all believe some of the “heaviest” moments of our sets are the quietest and most intimate.
All your work is very intimate, which is part of what makes it so compelling. Does this confessional approach to songwriting come naturally to you, or was it a strategic decision?
KL: It really felt like the only thing I could do. I was clumsy with my instrument; I had no idea what kind of music I wanted to make. All I could do was trudge forward with what I knew, which was predominantly that I was incredibly emotional, had a soft spot for poetry, and was desperately searching for something bigger than myself.
Did you face any challenges when Mothers transitioned from a solo project to a group aesthetic?
KL: We were all really terrified. The other members and myself, I mean. I had developed this thing that was sparse and intense, that seemed to be powerful largely on its minimalism and singularity. We were worried about it becoming generic, of it being watered down, of losing the qualities that made it special.
DK: We definitely had several lengthy talks before even sitting down to start making music together about how we wanted the band to function. Which I think was a first for all of us, putting so much thought into a project beforehand because there was already such an established identity that we wanted to bolster instead of getting in the way or cluttering it up. I think terrified is accurate, though, which I do believe we’re definitely past at this point. We had to get up and running so quickly that it already kind of feels like we’ve already been together for a while.
Kristine, has Mothers’ more aggressive sound changed you as a lyricist?
KL: It’s maybe allowed me to be a bit more vague/abstract with the lyrics. The earlier stuff was more influenced by folk songs and ballads. It was more important to me for those to have a consistent narrative, to explain myself throughout the song, whereas now I’m more interested in the deconstruction and re-assembly of words and ideas.
Chase Park Transduction is such a fixture within the Athens music community, what was it like recording there?
KL: Unreal! I’d never really worked in a professional studio. I’d done a good bit of home recording with [drummer] Matt [Anderegg] and Drew, but this was a much different experience. I think it was what we needed at the time to give the record its due diligence, because we were working with a limited amount of time, trying to develop this identity as a group in front of microphones. Originally we had planned to home record it.
DK: Yeah, I remember talking to Kristine about home recording an album at the house where Matt and I lived. At that point I think it was discussed as pretty much a solo record where we might add keys or other instruments to fill it out. We did some recordings like that, but by the time we went into Chase Park at the end of the year we had done a show together, just me, Matt, and Kristine, and throughout the studio process the project came to life as more of a full band. Matt and I had recorded at Chase Park before with a group called New Wives, and Matt had done some recordings with [Drew] Vandenberg as well, so there was a level of comfort and trust going in.
Did recording with Drew Vandenberg change your expectations for the album?
KL: Sure. It turned it into something very real, tangible. It gave us a deadline. I really admire his work, especially on the of Montreal records he’s engineered, as well as a record he did for our friends Grand Vapids, titled Guarantees. There are a handful of moments on the record that Vandenberg is directly responsible for, like the piano part in “Too Small For Eyes,” and different textures throughout that we hadn’t considered.
DK: The long ending of the final track, too — “Hold Your Own Hand” — just in terms of the arrangement and structure, was super collaborative. For the full band songs, I feel like we had a lot of raw ideas that often took all five heads in the studio to settle on before we could feel like it was “right” or complete. I don’t think we could have made that record at that time without Drew’s help.
What was it like working with Josh McKay? How did he get involved with Mothers?
KL: It was really brief, and totally on a whim. Drew Vandenberg knew him, and had mentioned that he plays hammered dulcimer and vibraphone. Josh came into the studio to record hammered dulcimer on a song (which unfortunately didn’t make the cut to be on the record) and vibraphone on “Burden of Proof.”
DK: He also was kind enough to leave the vibraphone at the studio for a few days, so Matt plays Josh’s vibraphone on a couple of songs — “Blood-letting” made it on the album. Josh was on another song too, but I forget which… there were something like 13 or 14 songs going in initially.
But it’s both alarming and unsettling how skewed the general perception of touring can be. No matter how many times musicians tell their stories, its impossible to understand the gravity of touring full time until you experience it.
You are in the midst of a pretty gargantuan tour right now. How are you surviving?
KL: You know, we’re learning a lot. You don’t actually realize what touring extensively will be like until, say, you’re in the middle of a four-month tour. It’s exhausting in ways I didn’t expect. I knew it would be a lot of driving, not enough sleep (or exercise), little to no alone time. I was less prepared for how emotionally taxing it is, especially for an introvert, and a person who is easily exhausted by interactions with other people. It’s not only that tour isn’t luxurious; it’s downright war. I’m learning how to cope with it. The most difficult part is that tour can be incredibly numbing to me, fortunately not musically, but in other ways. Making things is hard when you’re constantly traveling. You wake up, drive or get carsick and try to sleep in the van, wake up in a new place, orient yourself, load your gear into the venue, sit in a loud/dark bar, play an emotionally challenging set, talk to people (loudly, over house music usually), load your gear out of the venue, try to find somewhere to stay. It’s an insane amount of stimulus, and at the end of the day, almost impossible for me to do anything besides, well… survive.
I say all of that to say that I’m stoked, flattered, and wonderfully overwhelmed by the whole process. I love doing this full time. But it’s both alarming and unsettling how skewed the general perception of touring can be. No matter how many times musicians tell their stories, it’s impossible to understand the gravity of touring full time until you experience it.
Patrick Morales: I’m in an endless battle to fight atrophy. I’m currently losing as I lazily strike yoga poses when I slide out of the van at rest stops and gas stations. My latest tour resolution is to do 50 pushups at the start of every day. I’m on day 3 of attempt 10 and I think this one is gonna stick.
DK: Survival is a good way to put it. It might sound dramatic but I do agree with Kristine in that it’s hard to convey to people who think you’re on vacation how much of a nonstop grind it is. I think my family is a little surprised I haven’t totally lost it, because those closest to you get a better idea of how crazy the whole process is versus just seeing pictures of the good parts. I’ve had to come to terms with a lot of things in my life because things just changed so quickly and I know they’re not going back to the way they were very soon. Also, I miss Athens! Trying to stay grounded while being constantly in a state of flux… it’s asking a lot out of yourself if you’re a little anxious or neurotic to start with.
That being said, I imagine nothing good comes easily and it probably wasn’t easy for a lot of the bands we admire. I realize now it was probably super hard at times! But, we have a pretty unique chance to work really hard at something we’ve always wanted to do, so at a fundamental level it’s the most incredible thing to ever happen to us, for sure. We don’t take that lightly. It’s kinda like asking someone in the middle of a sprint how their sprint is going, “Um. I don’t know. I’m gonna keep running, though.”
What is the weirdest thing that has happened to you on tour so far?
KL: Matt’s been really into this band called Sans Aids, which he found randomly on a Bandcamp compilation, and realized it was pretty elusive — he just couldn’t find much of their music anywhere. He was able to find a couple of their songs on this YouTube channel called “Tropical Contact High,” and it was obvious that the person running the channel had weirdly similar taste. Over the next several months he listened regularly and used it as a resource to discover new bands. We were at a show in Orlando, Florida back in January, and we were talking with a guy named Taylor who played the show with us, in his band Swept. Matt was pretty shocked when the subject of Sans Aids was brought up, as they’re seemingly pretty obscure, and it turns out that Taylor has a YouTube channel where he posts a highly curated selection of his favorite music – Tropical Contact High. (His band, Swept, is also great, and you can find some of their stuff on his channel!)
PM: I think I might have strained my wrist playing a Star Wars arcade game from the ’80s, but I took six of the top ten scores, so I’m cool with it.
DK: We played South Street Seaport in New York City during the day at CMJ and there was a kid who started off dancing but then after a couple songs started crying and I was kinda like “me too, dude.”
What has been the most rewarding thing on tour so far? What are you still looking forward to?
KL: Meeting people who are genuinely influenced and moved by what we’re doing. Even though I initially make the songs for myself, hearing from other people that they feel differently after a show, or that one of our songs got them through a hard time, helps me understand why touring is so important, and that really keeps me going. Watching people be so responsive and understanding, and, like, wanting to talk to me about lyrics because they also are devastatingly in love with the written word — that stuff is incredible to experience. There’s a lot of warmth in it.
PM: Really looking forward to heading overseas. Gonna be super swell. The West Coast sticks out, too. Specifically stoked to make it back out to the Pacific Northwest (I used to work out there).
DK: Yeah, we’ve done the East Coast a few times at this point, so I think we’re excited to cover some new ground. Matt keeps us up on all the best new Canadian bands so Vancouver, Toronto, and Montreal stick out.
Despite Athens’ reputation for music, there are many good bands who don’t receive any press. Do you think the national media could do a better job of covering Athens?
KL: On one hand, yes, because there’s almost always interesting music being made in Athens. There’s a small, yet thriving experimental scene that’s rarely talked about outside of the local publication, Flagpole. Experimental music tends to get less coverage on a large scale anyway, though, probably due to its disregard of convention, so that isn’t necessarily an issue that’s exclusive to Athens.
On the other hand, no. Sometimes I think it’s part of what makes Athens special. You don’t know about what’s going on there, outside of larger bands, until you live there and are actively searching for it.
DK: It’s hard to say. In a way I feel like Athens is a great place to be a band because compared to a lot of smaller towns people actually do pay attention to it even though it has a kind of insular scene. So I hope that doesn’t change, even though there are always an insane number of great projects going on that I do feel deserve more attention.
Is there anything especially notable happening within Athens’ music scene right now?
KL: Always. In no particular order: Mind Brains, Shade, Richard Gumby, Nihilist Cheerleader, Art Contest, Grand Vapids, the Powder Room, Dead Neighbors, and Arbor Labor Union.
DK: Deep State, Futo, Glass, Muuy Biien, Meth Wax, Circulatory System. This is a dangerous game, I want to name everyone.
What makes Athens feel like home to you?
KL: My bed is there! I really miss my bed. Fuck. It made me sad to even write this. If you’re reading this, bed, know that the bench seats in the van will never compare to you, and that I rarely sleep in other beds. I usually stick to the floor, or a couch if I’m lucky, and that I’m coming back for you with an electric blanket, and a pillow if I can make it all the way home without forgetting it somewhere along the way.
DK: Honestly, just making that list makes Athens feel like home. There’s so much life in that scene and town (when I sit to think about it from somewhere very far away from that scene and town) that it makes me think of how much I really do value that. But, goddamn, my bed y’all! Alright, let me do this real quick. I spent last summer working at Havertys in Athens (shout-out to everyone at Havertys in Athens). Anyways, I got a new bed with this modern ass frame, queen size (up from full), and the mattress is basically one mattress with an even more comfortable matress STITCHED TO THE TOP. This thing sits about 79 inches off the ground, I swear. Damn. It also made me sad to write this.
Where are you looking forward to hanging out when you get back from tour?
KL: On top of my bed, under the covers of my bed, leaning up against the side of my bed.
PM: Excited to get back to Three Pigs Farm where I live in Winterville (just outside of Athens). I recently bought and started renovating a camper there and I’m really excited to work on more of it.
DK: Honestly, recording at home. It’s weird playing music all the time but not having any time to actually be creative. But in reality — seriously though — my bed.
What’s next for Mothers?
KL: Recording! We hope to have our next release out sooner rather than later. We’re restless people, and we want/need to be making as much and as often as we can, so naturally it’s easy to get ahead of ourselves. We already have the songs written, so we’re trying to find some time in between these monster tours to get them recorded.
Mothers will celebrate the release of When You Walk a Long Distance You are Tired on Friday, March 5 at Caledonia Lounge in Athens and on Saturday, March 6 at the EARL in Atlanta. Supporting them in Athens are Warehouse and Art Contest. Doors open at 9 p.m. Admission is $8 in advance or $10-12 DOS. Supporting them in Atlanta are Warehouse and Red Sea. Doors open at 9 p.m. Admission is $8 in advance or $10 DOS.
More Info
Web: nestingbehavior.com
Bandcamp: mothersathens.bandcamp.com
Facebook: @nestingbehavior
SoundCloud: @mothers-1