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Yahoo
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Hotline TNT's Will Anderson Talks New York Band's Growing Success: ‘I Feel Like I'm About to Blow Your Minds'
Hotline TNT has become synonymous with the burgeoning music scene in the Queens neighborhood of Ridgewood, New York. But for the indie-rock band's latest album, Raspberry Moon, it decamped far from the city to Appleton, Wisconsin. 'It was a full circle for a lot of reasons,' frontman and onetime Wisconsinite Will Anderson tells Billboard from his Ridgewood home, his pet chihuahua perched on his bed behind him. 'Being back in my home state definitely was part of the appeal.' More from Billboard Young Singer Wins Over 'AGT' Judges With Ed Sheeran Cover Ozzy Osbourne's DNA Will Be Sold in Limited Edition Liquid Death Cans Kneecap Launch London Billboard Takeover Ahead of 'Witch-Hunt' Court Appearance For more than a decade, Anderson, 36, has been something of a transcontinental indie-rock journeyman: After one of his former bands, the Vancouver-based Weed, earned some buzz in the mid-'10s, he kept making music as a hobby in Minneapolis – while he pursued a graduate degree to become a guidance counselor – before eventually landing in New York City shortly before the pandemic began. Anderson had already been releasing music under the Hotline TNT moniker for a couple years, but the project blossomed as live music got back up and running in 2021. Fans quickly gravitated to Hotline TNT's debut album, 2021's Nineteen in Love, and Anderson grew his following by picking up coveted support slots for buzzy indie bands like Snail Mail, Momma and Horsegirl. But when Hotline TNT made its Third Man Records debut with its second album, Cartwheel, in late 2023, it exploded. The set of anthemic shoegaze and power-pop gems earned raves from indie-rock tastemakers and catapulted Hotline TNT to the forefront of the genre – even if Anderson wryly shrugs off the success as 'right place, right time.' Which brings the story back to Appleton. When it came time to make another record, Anderson chased down Amos Pitsch, best known for fronting the punk band Tenement, to record it with him at his studio in the Wisconsin town. And in a first for Hotline TNT, whose studio recordings had previously been the work of Anderson alone, the band's touring quartet made the record together, across two sessions totaling a week. So while Raspberry Moon mostly sounds like the Hotline TNT fans already know and love, it pulses with the energy that only a full band can bring to the studio – and has a smattering of adornments, courtesy of Pitsch, that differentiate it from Hotline's previous work. For Anderson, all these small changes added up. 'If you get into a time machine and change one little thing, it could have ripple effects, you know?' he says. 'That's the whole thing. This is very much a snapshot of what happened in this timeline.' How did coming up with other young bands from the region, like Snail Mail and Momma, help Hotline TNT break out a few years ago? Early on, when we played with Snail Mail and Momma, that was a pretty important cosign that made other people took notice – and this was kind of before even we were on streaming services. You initially released exclusively on YouTube, as one long track. Why? It comes up over and over again: 'Why did you do that?' I push back against the narrative that it wasn't accessible – because it was on YouTube. This is, like, the number one most accessible free platform; you don't have to have an account, anything like that. Yeah, it wasn't presented in the way that people are used to consuming music – like, 'I want my Spotify playlist' or whatever – but it's still there. You can still listen to it anytime you want, for free. The choice was aesthetic more than anything. I wanted to present the album in a way that I had curated, basically, which was 'I want the songs to be listened to in this order.' I kind of liked the idea of making it a little bit harder for people to skip around to their favorite songs. Then you signed with Third Man Records. How have they supported you, with and now ? Well, that was the end of the YouTube strategy. [Laughs.] No, they've been great. As you can probably guess, I was pretty hesitant to have anyone besides myself handling the release strategy – or, I mean, there wasn't really a strategy [before], it was just like, I'm doing things the way I want to do it. Getting involved with, for lack of a better word, music industry people, has been a growing process for me. But, overall, they've made it pretty painless. They let me handle the creative side of things: 'Cool, here's a budget. Go do your thing.' I think it's gone pretty well. I love working with them. I hope we can keep doing it for a long time. You're managed by Rusty Sutton and Libby Webster of The Glow Management, which also represents Wednesday and MJ Lenderman – and in Raspberry Moon's liner notes, you thank 'everybody in the Wendesday and Lenderman extended universe.' When did you start working with Rusty? Right before Cartwheel came out. We met him through playing with Jake [Lenderman] and [Wednesday's] Karly [Hartzman]. We're definitely a different lane than those guys, but hopefully we can carve our own path. When I need Rusty's help, he's there for me. He's guided me through a lot of difficult situations, and I appreciate him a lot. You did a big tour supporting Wednesday in early 2024, right after dropped. How did you adjust to playing bigger rooms? That's been easy for me. Not to toot my own horn, but every time we play a big show, I feel like I thrive in those moments. Especially if we're a support band, I feel like I'm like, 'You guys don't know who we are. I'm about to blow your minds. I'm gonna change your night. We're gonna be way louder than the headliner.' If there's heads to convert, that's kind of my favorite setting. I want us to be the headliner, don't get me wrong. But in the meantime, this is how we're gonna play in front of 1,000 people – I have a bit of an antagonist in me that's like, 'You don't think we're gonna be capable, but we are. So, check this out.' Tell me about the decision to record as a full band, rather than on your own. It was just a matter of circumstance, really. It's harder than one might think to find people who are down to tour as much as we do; these four people, including me, were down to do it. They deserve to be a part of every aspect of the band, whether it's recording or songwriting or touring. It's not fair to be like 'Alright, guys, thanks for your work. Now I'm gonna do all the creative stuff with the record.' What do Amos and Tenement mean to you, and what did he add to this record? I met Amos [when he was] playing in a different band, Technicolor Teeth. They were kind of my favorite live band that I had ever seen. I saw them twice, and they blew my mind both times. Tenement I didn't come to till later, but I love all the Tenement records and everything Amos has done. He's got the Midas touch, in my opinion. I wanted to see what happened when he got involved. After we finished tracking everything, I told Amos, 'I want you to go through the whole album and add whatever you hear, on your own.' So a lot of the stuff you hear on this album, we weren't even in the studio. We obviously wrote all the songs and recorded all the guitars and drums and everything, but then, any piano you hear, vibraphone, there's some soaring vocal harmonies – that's all Amos. I kind of wanted him to be like a fifth member of the band for this recording project, and I think he delivered. What's next for Hotline TNT? A lot of touring. Just started demoing for the new album. I know it sounds like, 'Oh, you're already back in the studio?' Like, yeah. I mean, what else are we gonna do? That's the job. It'll take a while for us to have another album, for sure, but I'm already thinking about it and excited about it – but I'm excited to see how this one goes. What's been on Hotline TNT's playlist? Currently, we're all really hooked on this band The Tubs. Really obsessed with both their albums, but the new one [2025's Cotton Crown] especially captured our attention in a major way. We listen to a lot of ML Buch, a lot of Daryl Johns. And then all the classics: Red House Painters, Teenage Fanclub, early My Bloody Valentine. Best of Billboard Chart Rewind: In 1989, New Kids on the Block Were 'Hangin' Tough' at No. 1 Janet Jackson's Biggest Billboard Hot 100 Hits H.E.R. & Chris Brown 'Come Through' to No. 1 on Adult R&B Airplay Chart
Time Out
07-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Time Out
BRIC Celebrate Brooklyn's lineup of free summer concerts is finally here
New York's summer music festival season is nearly upon us and this year will see the return of a true local favorite: BRIC Celebrate Brooklyn! Festival is back for its 47th installment, offering a season's worth of free outdoor concerts at the Lena Horne Bandshell in Prospect Park from June 7 to August 16. And the performer lineup is officially here, highlighting "the diverse cultures that make Brooklyn a global music hub, featuring artists whose work transcends borders and celebrates the exchange of ideas." On the 2025 docket is a mix of international icons and global up-and-comers "whose work resonates from around the world and within our own borough," per BRIC. Kicking things off at the opening benefit concert on June 9—which is one of four paid shows included in the fest, to help support the non-profit's regular free programming—is the powerhouse pair of Grace Jones and Janelle Monáe, just in time for Pride. Elsewhere, the lineup includes alt rockers Dinosaur Jr. with Snail Mail on July 17, punk legends Gogol Bordello on August 2, jazz greats William Parker and Nikara Warren on August 15, a family-friendly 80th birthday celebration for Pippi Longstocking on June 15 and a tribute concert to music icon Quincy Jones on June 27. You can check out the full BRIC Celebrate Brooklyn! Festival schedule below:
New York Times
14-02-2025
- Entertainment
- New York Times
An Assortment of 7 ‘Valentine' Songs
Dear listeners, Every once in a while, I like to compile a playlist composed entirely of songs with identical titles. You may recall that, last October, I sent out a newsletter about six different tracks vying to be the greatest 'The Greatest.' Today, in honor of a certain loved-and-occasionally-loathed holiday, I made a playlist of seven songs with the same timely, evocative name: 'Valentine.' While most of these tracks are about romance, they vary widely in tone. Some — like the witty ditty from the precocious musician Laufey or a sloshed-but-smitten album cut from the Replacements — are rather heartfelt declarations of love. But, as Valentine's Day can stir up some sharp pangs for the heartbroken among us, a few of these songs — like wrenching tracks from Snail Mail and Fiona Apple — are also full of longing and loneliness. This is certainly not a complete list of every song ever titled 'Valentine,' but it is a sampling of seven of my favorites. Whether you're buying roses for yourself or someone else this year, I hope you find at least one track that reflects your mood.
The Independent
09-02-2025
- Entertainment
- The Independent
Sharon Van Etten: ‘You have to find ways to be a good person – even when you don't think other people are'
Sharon Van Etten is concerned that people will make fun of her next career move: fronting a goth rock band. 'Maybe it's my insecurity that people will see, 'Oh, someone in their forties decided to have a band – whatever, who cares,'' she says, looking to the floor and imagining the sarcastic jab to follow: 'No one's ever heard of that.' I'm not sure how she turned up to interviews before, but today every indie rock musician's favourite musician looks the part in a black hoodie, surrounded by instruments, sitting in her home studio in Los Angeles. Most fortysomethings suspected of having a midlife crisis, though, are not Grammy-nominated artists who made a male newscaster cry with a simple on-air live performance. Nor do they have their own heroes, Nick Cave and The National, offering up praise. This is a woman who has managed to bottle her very own bittersweet flavour of nostalgia; just thinking about her duet with Angel Olsen 'Like I Used To' reminds me of a summer I spent feeling yearningly, tragically hopeful. I'm not the first critic to suggest that the current generation of women in indie rock – boygenius, Snail Mail and Soccer Mommy included – wouldn't have created work as textured and well-received without the influence of Van Etten's emotional complexity on albums such as Are We There and Remind Me Tomorrow. At first glance, her gothic turn feels like a rogue decision, yet her music can often linger hauntingly in gloom. Just listen to her voice descend in Siouxsie Sioux swoops on the chorus of the single 'Southern Life (What It Must Be Like)'. It's a match made in some dark heaven. The name of this band – Sharon Van Etten and the Attachment Theory – is something of a nod to one of her many side-projects: the long and winding road to becoming a therapist. 'My goal for myself was having a degree by the time I hit 50 and I'll be 44 in February,' she says wistfully, over a video call. Initially, Van Etten was inspired by a period of therapy she undertook to process an abusive relationship she had in her twenties. Once she was ready to retire from being a musician, she'd thought she might work with vulnerable women who had been traumatised or abused. Her interests have evolved, she says: 'As I get older and my parents are aging, I'm considering elderly therapy and grief counselling.' It would be the perfect final act to her career, I think. We have such comfortable silences that I don't get to the questions I'd planned. It's down to Van Etten being one hypnotic half of the conversation: her dark hair is pulled back from her elvish face and her almond-shaped brown eyes hold you with a steady presence. It's calming to sit with her, and much like a therapist, she's difficult to read. Her expressions hide most signs of tension or conflict – she's gentle, almost neutral, but thorough and contemplative in her replies. Even, apparently, when well-meaning people keep asking her about her new band. She lists out their questions: 'What made you want to do this now? Why were you solo for so long?' And then, when it's clear how weighty this transition is for her, 'Why is being in a band such a big deal?' For Van Etten, the answer is simple – she didn't feel emotionally safe enough before, now she does. 'When I started writing music I was in that very controlling and abusive relationship; I had to hide the fact that I played from him,' she says. 'So, from my late teens through my early twenties, my roots in music were it being my survival and just what I did for myself.' Once she was out of the relationship, friends encouraged her to perform at open mic nights and she started to share 'very fragile songs' she was protecting like they were baby birds. 'I was still solo for four years before I even let people just play with me in a live setting,' she explains. Only after surrounding herself with trusted people did she begin to accept small forms of help. A little aid with touring plans, then some colluding over musical arrangements for the creation of Remind Me Tomorrow and her most recent album, We've Been Going About This All Wrong. A major step in letting go of control was the creation of her most beloved song, the wistful 'Seventeen', with co-writer Kate Davis. That track's articulation of faded heartbreak by way of an ever-changing city has given psychological depth to pivotal scenes in hit TV shows such as Sex Education, Big Mouth and The Bear. 'It's my song but when I hear it now, I still tear up,' she says. 'I cry because it's about how looking back, you learn way more than when you were in that moment. Just be easy on yourself and live more in the moment because you won't understand until later.' After the COVID-19 pandemic, she had the fortitude to ask her touring bandmates – who now make up the Attachment Theory – to collaborate in a formal sense. 'I make a joke about our band being like a sonic trust fall but it's deeper than that,' she says (referring to when someone leans back and allows themselves to fall, knowing that others will catch them). 'I wanted to challenge myself, but also show the band how invested I am with them as not just musicians, but friends.' She generously implies that they had some shared ownership over her solo songs anyway, by putting their own DNA into them night after night on tour; 'they add so much, interpreting my music and instilling their voice into it.' When I went to watch the band's recording sessions at the Church Studios in north London a few months ago, Van Etten struck an understated figure, no more a main player than drummer Jorge Balbi, bassist Devra Hoff and Teeny Lieberson on synths, piano, guitar and backing vocals. I wondered if she felt the pressure to hold back, be overly deferential. She says not. 'I was still directing to some degree but there wasn't anything combative,' she says. 'There were a couple of tense moments in the studio when just our gear wasn't working or when someone didn't feel heard.' She smiles at the memory of trying to over-direct Lieberson's vocals, only for her bandmate to kindly but firmly reject her suggestion: that she try a melody that to Lieberson's ears sounded like a classic 'Sharon Van Etten' tune rather than a Teeny Lieberson one. Sharon Van Etten After writing the songs out in the Californian desert, Van Etten decided they would record in London because it was clear their shared influences were English post-punk bands of the late 1970s and Eighties: Joy Division, The Cure, and for Van Etten, vocally and dramatically, Kate Bush and PJ Harvey. Conveniently, given those macabre musical references, death and the destructive passing of time had been very much on Van Etten's mind. 'We're all late thirties into early fifties and in that time of our lives that a person learns how to talk about death,' she says. Her father-in-law had dementia and she was watching him fold into that process; sometimes witnessing the man she knew and other times not recognising him. Enjoy unlimited access to 100 million ad-free songs and podcasts with Amazon Music Sign up now for a 4 month free trial (3 months for non-Prime members) Sign up One day, Van Etten and Hoff had a conversation about an article on an elixir that reverses aging in mice. It's possible, the article said, that it could be used on people – if the person was older than 50, they'd likely become younger. 'We got into this philosophical, really dark conversation of: if you could live forever, would you? And why would you?' she remembers. This discussion inspired the sombre, mystical opening song, 'Live Forever'. The music that followed blended angular post-punk with lush reverb, creating an ethereal atmosphere ideal for exploring the fragile boundary between life and death. Van Etten fans will be grateful that multiple tracks have the driving instrumental build and poignant Springsteen-like euphoria she's known for. During the writing process, philosophical discussions became practical. Van Etten's father-in-law died. Hoff lost a close friend, Ariel, someone they considered their chosen family. 'I found myself in the most intense grief of my life, a grief that consumed me almost entirely for months,' Hoff recalls. 'Songs that we had written or begun writing took on an intensity for me that made it literally hard to play. I had to duck out of the recording room crying on more than one occasion. These songs and Sharon's words were and are direct reflections of my feelings and what I wanted to communicate to Ariel.' Those losses cemented the themes of the self-titled record: mortality, what we leave behind, and questioning if we ever go anywhere ('All of that fun stuff,' Van Etten says). Her interest in the afterlife reminds me of her role as Rachel in The OA, a prisoner who, after a near-death experience, develops an angelic singing voice. 'That role spoke to me because music has been my superpower throughout my life as I've learned how to hone it and control it and turn it into a career that has helped other people,' she says. Her other prominent TV appearance involved a 'very psychedelic experience' filming for Twin Peaks: The Return, the cult show created by fellow Los Angelino David Lynch, who passed away a few days before we spoke. 'He lived his life fully and he lived it the way he wanted to,' she says of Lynch. 'I don't know him enough to speak to every part about his life, but he seemed like a very enlightened person. And left a lot of beauty and mystery behind. Thank you for that, David Lynch.' A different side-project has recently taken precedence: being a mother to her seven-year-old son, Jack. On election day in 2016, pregnant and alone, she cried at the thought of bringing a child into a world that felt increasingly scary with Trump as president. Now, with Trump beginning a second term, she struggles to balance being honest with Jack while protecting his childlike innocence. The day before our conversation, which fell on both inauguration day and Martin Luther King Jr Day, her husband (and ex-bandmate-turned-manager) Zeke Hutchins wanted to watch the inauguration, but Van Etten chose to focus on MLK Day instead. She watched footage of the 1963 March on Washington and talked to Jack about why she struggles with Trump's presidency: 'I told him how I wish things were different. But that you have to find ways to be a good person even when you don't think other people are.' She simplifies politics for him by comparing differing allegiances to how not everyone likes the same movies. 'We have family and friends in the South who are Trump supporters, so we've had hard conversations,' she says. 'I'm talking a lot about the idea of coexistence.' Meanwhile their hometown has been on fire; the Van Etten residence is just three miles from Pasadena and a block from the Glendale border. Both Pasadena and Glendale were evacuated during the recent forest fires in LA but the Van Ettens tentatively decided to stick around. Not everyone on her team was so lucky: Josh Block, who engineered the band's demo sessions in the desert, lost his house to the fires. Her guitar tech lives four blocks from the fires and has to water his house every day to clear it from the airborne soot and pieces of debris that land on its walls. The band's drummer Balbi has been displaced and is staying with friends. Sharon Van Etten Van Etten is wary of a global conversation that assumes only rich people were badly affected by the fires because of publicised celebrity house losses. 'Yes, the Pacific Palisades [fire] is awful, but a lot of the creative community – and a very diverse community – has been displaced,' she says, suddenly stern for the first and only time in our conversation. 'People are returning to their neighbourhoods being the only house standing.' Now that she is surrounded by such chaos, does that change her answer to the album's central question: would she want to live forever? She gives a restrained sigh at the state of things, a 'to be determined'. 'I wanna see my kid get older, to see how he makes himself in this world. And my partner, who I love – I don't ever want to think about losing each other, he's the love of my life,' she says and then laughs shyly at what she's said. 'But I'm not interested in seeing what happens to the world, with where things stand. I don't think I want to live on Mars. I don't want to escape the planet that we've destroyed and live in another area that is just going to be wrecked.' The strange promise of living through our uncertain future ultimately can't compare to the natural order for Van Etten. 'We live in a society where everyone's afraid of ageing. We're supposed to age. It's OK,' she says. 'I think, at this moment, I just want to get old and eventually die.' 'Sharon Van Etten and the Attachment Theory' is out now
