Hazy Jane is seven musicians out of New Jersey who have been coming together to paint indie rock pictures since 2018. The soundscapes they’ve built (on this album more than anything else) are the best yet, and the landscapes they have used harmony-laden imagery to create are more vivid than ever before.
Half the Drugstore, the LP out this very week, rolls into folk rock territory at times, leans into a subtle jam band energy, and gives way to timeless psychedelic tracks. (We didn’t even know psychedelia could be timeless until now, but they did it, and it’s fresh and nostalgic and original. Even The Beatles’ Magical Mystery Tour gets some questionable looks in the 21st century, but not this Hazy Jane project.)
Upon hearing this Garden State native of a record, we knew we had a lot to pick apart – and probably too much for a tradition Q&A conversation. There is weighted poetry, existentialism, retro stylings, modern reflections, and more all within this one album, so we’re thrilled to let the band break down the songs and their melodious idiosyncrasies.
We’d like to thank Megan Soltys (vocalist), Chris Milan (vocalist), Will Shore (violinist), Andrew Genhan (bassit), Josh Gebhardt (bassist), Paul Milan (writer, guitarist, keyboardist, vocalist), Chris Forsyth (guest guitarist), and Kurt Reil (guest drummer, producer, and owner of House of Vibes studio). They are the artists and the voices who shaped the album and the backstories learnt below.
“I had worked with Hazy Jane a few times over the years and always loved the ethereal, melancholic quality the band possesses,” producer Reil noted about the overall LP. “Paul called during the pandemic with this project which he described as having been inspired by After The Goldrush by Neil Young, to the point where he used anagrams of each title to create new songs. That might be where it started, but we didn’t dwell on Neil Young’s music while crafting this record. I think it has its own identity apart from its inspiration. I’d always known Paul to be a guitarist, but for these sessions he came in as an accomplished pianist! Paul’s piano became the cornerstone for a good number of the tracks. Paul had also opened up the record to a large number of musical guests to expand the sonic palette: pedal steel, french horn, trumpet, standup bass, and more. In most cases we brought them to the fore in each track they participated in, and the overall effect is a very textural, varied album.”
Well Thyme
Paul: “The title is an anagram of ‘Tell Me Why’ and I like the herbal spelling; it reminds me of the Byrds’ ‘Wild Mountain Thyme.’ This is the one that started the whole thing. One day, late in the pandemic, I tried to write a song like ‘Tell Me Why’ as an exercise: acoustic guitar, tuned down a whole step, inscrutable lyrics, etc. I liked it and wanted to record it. Will added a melodic fiddle part, but it needed more. I reached out to Glenn Alexander of the Asbury Jukes who lives nearby and he was willing to record some guitar parts. That he agreed to do it gave me the impetus to get this whole record done. If he had said no, I probably would have given up on the project. Glenn’s ideas pulled it all together and gave the song that moody, dreamy texture… he’s an absolute pro and a monster player.
It took me forever to score out the harmony parts. On the chorus there are three or four parts singing words, then four or five parts singing ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs.’ I find it tedious to write out that kind of stuff, but it was worth it hearing Chris and Megan bring it to life.”
Half the Drugstore
Paul: “This is like a short story, or at least a character study, since nothing really happens. This guy lives in Bayonne, New Jersey on Silver Street – close to where I went to school. He doesn’t have much money, has a spotty work history, and problems with relationships and substances, but he hasn’t given up, and he can still delude himself that he’ll accomplish something big next summer.
I believe Neil had a flugelhorn on After the Goldrush but I think the French horn has a more noble and melancholy sound. John Erbrecht (who recorded the piano on this) agrees. He brought his mobile rig and we recorded the grand piano in the church where I work. It was night and no one was there, but the mics kept picking up background noise. I completely killed the heating/cooling system – still noise. There was something running in the basement below. I turned off everything I could find down there, but still noise.
Turns out that the incredibly faint sound of the fans that cool the lighting system was being picked up, so we killed all the lights. The vibe of recording in a completely dark, silent church late at night was absolutely eerie and magical and we got a great take.
In perfect pandemic style, Isabelle recorded her horn part remotely in Brazil and we dropped it in here.”
Must Have Been Love
Andrew: “I’m well pleased to have played bass – and to now pontificate – on Track 3. I believe this song best delivers on the album’s premise. It most closely resembles its sister song, ‘Only Love Can Break Your Heart,’ musically and lyrically, being the same key and tempo and progression – and yet it’s a clearly distinct and beautiful song in its own right. An overly earnest perils-of-love song with a well-trodden subject, so all the more impressive to register a fresh original take. Chris’ lead vocals are just great! The song fits her so nicely. ‘Must Have Been Love’ lies at the very heart of this album. If you don’t agree we’ll have to fight.”
Paul: “I’m with Andy. Musically, this is closest to the source material, and if Neil was gonna sue me, this would be why, but I think it departs enough so that it’s not actionable, right? I had finally learned how to write in a range that works for Chris at this point. A Nashville pedal steel player named Dakota Holden (if that is in fact his name… seems too cool) laid down a subtle, understated but appropriate part. That’s what you get when you hire a Nashville cat. Now we’re officially “a little bit country.”
Resonant Hum
Paul: “Chris Forsyth made the trek from Philly to Highland Park, New Jersey, to overdub some lead guitar onto two tracks. He used my 1968 Princeton Reverb, which is just a magnificent little amp. When he was warming up, it sounded like Richard Thompson was in the room! Then he pounded out brilliant takes – from low-key to absolutely shredding – one after another. The take we used here is somewhere in the middle.”
Chris Forsyth: “The session I did at House of Vibes with Paul and Kurt was a real joy and made it easy to be creative with the sounds and the tunes. The songs hit me in a way that made my choices direct and instinctual and spontaneous. Sometimes good music comes from struggle, but it’s even better when it just pours out as if preordained, and that’s how it felt working on these two Hazy Jane tracks.”
Josh: “I’ve admired Chris Forsyth since catching his old band Peeesseye several times in NYC many years ago. To share an album credit is really an honor! I was also jazzed by the bass sound Kurt mixed up here, being a fan of fuzz bass since I first heard Cliff Burton shredding on ‘Kill ‘Em All’ as a kid.”
The Common Singer Lit
Paul: “Lorne Graham (famous maker of Hot Graham Sauce) played trumpet on this. He captured perfectly the Burt Bacharach/Herb Alpert, lounge-y feel we wanted. I know I’m not a good singer – average at best, or common. That’s ok! We have two incredible singers in the band (plus Will, who is underutilized as a vocalist). In the song we have three more characters in Edgeville, but with a bouncy, upbeat tune behind them, they’ll do ok. I pictured my friend, the poet David Crews, as the ‘underground and basement bard.’ Producer Kurt Reil had an odd interpretation of the lyrics and a grand concept for a video that we won’t make. Me saying ‘thank you,’ was his idea.”
Kurt: “As a producer, I worked to find a sonic identity for each track, and sometimes the ideas come from a visual picture the music suggests. I wanted to put the protagonist of ‘The Common SInger’ onto an open mic stage in a small club. Chris and Megan sing most of the tracks on the album, but Paul’s vocal played right into the sonic picture we were creating with this track.”
Lonesome Home
Paul: “This song came from a poem and a painting. Tom Clark wrote ‘all I want to do is to go back to Pueblo and let the wind blow right through me in the parking lot by the Trailways depot.’ Combine that with the John Register painting ‘Mojave Bus Station,’ and you get this song. He’s my favorite painter. There are no people in his paintings.
On a personality profile I had to take at work, I scored a 0.0 for sociability – that’s on a scale of 100. So, I’m ok existing in the lonesome universe of this song… or maybe in a less menacing, but still depopulated one.
I wrote much of this on a bleak wintry day in the western Catskills. Fittingly, I recorded it at home in the basement by myself. Then Megan and Chris added vocal parts. Lots of ghostly echoes and distance in this song, there’s also a lyrical and musical callout to the Doors. Kurt took the mess I brought him and made it sound nice in his studio. He got rid of some murkiness, but also reined in some of the heavy fuzz (the great Red Witch Fuzz God pedal) and bass that dominated at the end of the song. Probably the right choice.”
Where I Am
Chris Milan: “’Come on down with me, and bury all your dreams. There’s room enough for two inside this hole I’m in.’ I’ve always been drawn to the melancholy – music, movies, books. This song definitely has a deep sadness ingrained in both the lyrics and music. More than that, for me, it captures a feeling that is extremely difficult to put into words or adequately describe. A feeling of being alone even when you’re with someone you care deeply for and have shared important experiences with. A feeling that not only no one really understands you, but also that there’s something fundamentally un-understandable about you. A feeling of promise just out of reach that life has taught you will remain there, yt there’s still a part of you that secretly holds a small hope. Will’s violin line conveys that feeling as much as the words do. Guest Caleb Melo brought in a distinctive Bakersfield pedal steel lick, and bingo! We got a sorrowful stew.”
Birds
Will: “An absence is apparent in the text – of birds, certainly, and the lightness and freedom they represent, but also of purpose and time. It seems too late for humans to save the natural world around them, or to save themselves – tragically, the narrator recognizes this, but does not or cannot act. Those are heavy thoughts! Recording this with my bandmates, I felt this absence in the sparse orchestration, while the text’s wistful, meandering quality made its way into the violin part – until, that is, the coda! What’s with that shuffle? During our sessions, I remember discussing the idea of “fly[ing] away home.” The shuffle represents an ostensible rhythmic freedom – in reality, still bound to the triplet. This lends, I think, an air of resignation to the coda. We can’t really escape the place we’re in, the place we’ve built, but art, expression, communication, creativity – these guide us along.”
Alcove
Paul: “I wrote this on vacation in Sea Isle City, New Jersey. It’s not a beachy song, but I wasn’t feeling particularly beachy after breaking my nose and knocking my front teeth out in a bike accident, then getting knocked on my ass again by COVID shortly before we went. The song is just verse, verse, verse, no chorus, so it needed a kicking guitar solo, plus some vocal intensity. We talked about Chris Forsyth doing something like the second solo in ‘Sway’ [The Rolling Stones] where the solo rises up over the vocals and proceeds to demolish everything. Kurt wanted Chris to add a second lead, so he’s dueling with himself on guitar.”
Chris F: “I don’t know exactly what to say about the outro solo on Alcove other than when it was done I thought, ‘I was going for Mick Taylor, and out came Lynyrd Skynyrd.'”
Josh: “Jon Di Fiore’s tight drumming is perfect for the lyrical content, his snare rattling out the inexorable funeral procession on its way to rebirth in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania… but what a badass procession! I’m really excited to play this one live where the twin lead guitar finale will stretch out self-indulgently far beyond the recording’s four-minute runtime.”
Blue Religion
Megan: “This was one of the first songs that I sang with Hazy Jane, so I’ve always felt a special connection to it. I love the laid-back feel and the imagery. Paul’s lyrics have a brilliant way of sneaking heavy, raw human emotions into a light and unburdened melody. Along with Chris’ harmonies, it’s easy to close your eyes, have a drink in hand and get ‘lost in [the] song. The last stanza is my favorite, and it’s hard not to get teary-eyed when singing it. Grief is something that everyone goes through and no matter how much time passes, there remains a scar on your heart. This ending pulls those heavy emotions to the surface and acknowledges that they are still there, no matter how much hope we can hold on to. For me, Will’s violin represents that hope that helps you live through each day dealing with loss.”
Paul: “I never think about who will be singing the lyrics when I write. I think that would get in the way and maybe hurt the song, but afterwards, I do wonder if Megan or Chris are comfortable with them, or may want to change the gender or context or anything. I’m sure I’d be fine with it, but they never bring it up. On this one, I had to give a lot of thought to someone else singing these lyrics, which are very personal to me, but the only thing that came up was Megan asking, ‘Shouldn’t ‘gin and tonics’ be singular?’ and I said ‘No, it’s definitely more than one.'”
Linden and Rowan
Kurt: “I saw ‘Linden And Rowan’ as a late sixties pop song, something the Wrecking Crew might have recorded. I tried to make the chorus very clean and simple, while the verses are musically more jazz-oriented, and the drums weave around the vocal. It’s a great closer for an album that’s all about dynamics– loud and soft, melodic and edgy. It’s such a wide range of tones and sounds, and is was joyful experience to create it.”
Paul: “The line, central to the song, about ‘tuning and stringing’ comes from a Rabindranath Tagore poem: ‘The song that I came to sing remains unsung to this day. I have spent my days in stringing and in unstringing my instrument. The time has not come true, the words have not been rightly set; there is only the agony of wishing in my heart.’ Will’s violin opens and closes the album, so I’ll give him the last word here.”
Will: “There’s a certainty to ‘Linden and Rowan,”’as if one can see, from a plane perhaps, two winding rivers inevitably reaching the ocean. The improvisational violin part imagines the sinuous paths of these waterways, while the rhythm section’s bold 4/4 pushes the message: ‘the time has come now.’ The spontaneity of the music jolts us awake and into the future: ‘Now it’s time; sing out loud and forever.'”
HAZY JANE’S NEW LP IS OUT NOW! FOR STREAMING LINKS, INFO, & MORE, CLICK HERE!
