Golden Apples is a prolific group of musicians formed and heralded by singer and songwriter Russell Edling. Shooting Star, their fourth album, is a sprawling new work packed to the brim with playful eccentricities and dynamism, one that owes as much of its inspiration to mid-century folkies like Michael Hurley and Karen Dalton as it does to alt rock of the ‘90s like Yo La Tengo and Stereolab. Shooting Star is out now on Lame-O Records.
Russell Edling fronts the Philly band Golden Apples; Ben Walsh fronts the PA band Tigers Jaw. The latest Golden Apples album, Shooting Star, is out now on Lame-O Records, and to celebrate, Russell and Ben got together to chat about it, and much more.
— Annie Fell, Editor-in-chief, Talkhouse Music
Russell Edling: So, I’ll just ask you a question that I got here: What have you been working on lately?
Ben Walsh: I’ve been finishing a new Tigers Jaw record. We got a little over ambitious and didn’t finish everything in the time we had booked, so we had just a couple of odds and ends sessions to finish things up. Let’s see, what else… Just working on fathering. I have an almost one-and-a-half year old, and most of the day every day, I’m just chilling with her and reading books and going to the park, taking her to the local library, the aquarium. It’s really fun watching her experience things and trying to see the world through her eyes. So that’s been taking up all my time in the best way lately.
Russell: That’s sweet. Do you ever involve her in music in any way? Like, do you bring her to the studio or play guitar around her and stuff?
Ben: I play guitar around her, and she loves it but she tries to pull the strings. She loves music so much. She wants us to put on music while she’s eating lunch, if we’re driving somewhere, we have to have music on. She just starts dancing to things — like if someone’s phone started ringing and it was rhythmic, she would start dancing along to it. It’s cool to see that she’s really drawn to music already, because it’s such a big part of my life.
Russell: It’s in her genes. It’s an inevitability.
Ben: Yeah, I hope she loves it. It’ll be fun to watch her find her way.
Russell: I wonder about that stuff sometimes. I follow all these Beatles accounts on Instagram, and they’ll always be like, “It’s George Harrison’s birthday!” And the other day, it was George Harrison’s son’s birthday. I mean, I guess it’s just my own ignorance, but I didn’t even know that George Harrison had children, and this one particular son plays guitar. It’s cool that people that grow up around music like that and then do it, because I feel like so much about being a kid and growing up is defying your parents’ expectations. But I like to think music is just so good and cool that it’s different than the family business or the family trade. It’s like, these are just feelings and art.
Ben: Yeah. And there’s every direction it can go, so even if the stuff that your parents listen to you think is lame, you find something different. And then later on when you get a little older, you’re like, Oh, they were they were listening to the good stuff… But, yeah, it’s crazy how short of a time the life of the Beatles [was], in the scheme of their lives. It was such a short and productive time.
Russell: Yeah. Actually, this totally off topic, but I am doing this thing for my job right now where we have to present a conspiracy theory to our team — it’s kind of like a team building exercise — and the first thing that entered my mind is the conspiracy that Paul McCartney died in 1966. I’m doing it tomorrow, and I procrastinated on this for weeks, so today I’m just soaking in info about this conspiracy at such a rate and potency that it’s like… not making a believer of me, but it is fascinating.
Ben: I was going to say, by the time you go to present, it’s no longer a conspiracy theory to you, so it disqualifies it from the project.
Russell: “I actually have to abstain from this, because what I have prepared today is not a conspiracy.” [Laughs.] But it’s so interesting because you had these fans that were so absolutely obsessed that when they didn’t see Paul McCartney in the press for a couple weeks, they were like, “Something happened to Paul. He’s dead.” And then when Paul was like, “No, I’m not.” They were like, “That’s not you anymore. They swapped you with somebody else.”
Ben: Apparently they did that with Avril Lavigne, too. And possibly Andrew WK.
Russell: Oh, yeah, someone else that I work with was tempted to do the Andrew WK thing at one point, and I think that he changed his mind. Maybe he had the same realization that this is not a conspiracy, this is what happened…
But I do love the Beatles so much. And yet I know actually so little about them. I’m often critical about myself for this: I feel like I get into things, but then I don’t really know that much about them. Like, I love Yo La Tengo so much and admire them musically and artistically just endlessly. I was wearing a Yo La Tengo t-shirt and went to cafe a couple weeks ago, and the barista was like, “Oh, I love that band.” I was like, “Yeah, they’re great.” And I’m thinking, I love Yo La Tengo, they’re my favorite band. And the barista was like, “Yeah, not even their albums, but they do so much great stuff, they scored this film and this other film and blah blah blah,” and I immediately I was like, “I don’t know any of that stuff.” I have five or six of their albums that I listen to and enjoy a lot, but I don’t know all the other stuff.
Ben: There’s nothing wrong with that. I feel like you can be a fan of something and just be a fan of it. It’s like the whole joke of, “Name three songs,” or whatever, but if you loved one song by one artist enough that it changed your whole life, that’s t-shirt-wearing worthy.
Russell: That’s true. I just feel like we live in this age — and maybe it’s the cop out to just blame it on the times — but there is this extent to which, if you’re not this fully realized scholar on a thing, you don’t matter, because there’s just so much know-it-all-ness out there. If I’m interested in something, I should get to the bottom of it. But I think my brain doesn’t really work that way. I don’t as a person really get that into the nitty gritty of things.
Ben: Sure. I think once the internet took over, I stopped worrying about not knowing enough stuff because it’s always there, I can access it when I need it. But that’s definitely worked against me in a lot of ways, where I don’t retain as much as I wish my brain did. But I’m also not super concerned with knowing everything. I just like knowing whether I like something or not, and what pulls me towards something. There’s just so much out there and there’s only so much time to take it all in, so it’s easy to get in the weeds about something. But I don’t know if I have the capacity to do that too much anymore.
Russell: Well, it’s funny, because I feel like I come to you so often with questions about guitar stuff and pedals, because you do have, at least with that, something where you are really in the weeds of, “This is what you should do for this or that.” And I’m just like, “OK, cool.” It’s nice for me to be able to benefit from your knowledge. As much as I’ve always loved guitars and amps and stuff, there is a level to which I’m just like, Uh…
Ben: It’s a deep pool, and you can have just as much fun in the shallow end as you can in the depths.
Russell: That’s a good way of putting it.
Ben: Do you prefer recording or performing more?
Russell: I think that I love them both, but in very different ways. I think that the recording of the song for me is so connected to the actual writing and creating of the song. I tend to work in a very building-it-up kind of way, so the whole time I’m doing that, I am absolutely plagued with doubt.
Ben: You’re still finding the song as you go.
Russell: Finding it, fighting with it, looking for it, losing it. The whole quest. And in there, there’s moments of triumph and joy and excitement, and anticipation of what will this be to play live even. But it’s also very solitary, generally. And then the performance aspect of it is this whole other thing, where it’s like this cathartic release and you’re sharing it, you’re letting it go, you’re testing it out. And I feel like I’m always struggling with, do I want the live performance to sound like the record, or do I want it to take on its own flavor? That is a constant moving target. But I think that recording is often more anxiety inducing in a way, and then performing is more like, Here we go. Let’s see what happens.
Ben: You gotta live with whatever happens, and that’s it. And people are watching as you do it.
Russell: Yes, they are. Well, sometimes, if there’s anyone there — which lately we’ve been fortunate to be able to play some really great shows.
But that reminds me of one of my questions: For this last record, I experimented more than I have in the past with new sounds. Like the idea of, OK, I have my go to guitar tone and I’m gonna write this part with that in mind — whereas this time I was like, I’m gonna use different stuff and experiment with different things. I’m curious, what are some ways that you keep your process feeling fresh?
Ben: I do always kind of start with my familiar tools, and then I know straight away if it’s something I need to take a different direction or lean into what I know and what’s comfortable. I’m not one of those guys that can just experiment endlessly in the studio and get lost on a tone quest. I need to redirect and refocus myself and just focus on the song. I romanticize that process, and then in the moment, I’m just like — it’s like when you go into TJ Maxx and there’s a million candles and you start smelling them, and then all of a sudden you’re like, “I don’t know what smells good or bad.” I don’t know what sounds good or what sounds bad. So usually I have my barometer of, OK, here’s a couple of guitars that I really love, here’s my main amp, here’s some of my favorite pedals. I always just start there.
But in terms of keeping it fresh, I think I find that more so in the song itself and how it’s composed and the dynamics of it, sometimes in the lyrical process. Where the song comes from is never entirely predictable for me, so it starts off maybe feeling fresh because I’m like, I have this one lyrical line that is stuck in my head, I guess there’s sort of a melody to it, and how can I build this into something bigger and then chase that? And sometimes it’s almost fully formed, where I’m like, Cool, thank you, greater being, for depositing this idea in my head. It’s just kind of different on its own every time, so if anything, I’m refocusing it into my comfort zone just to just to kind of start the process.
Russell: Yeah. It’s almost like — I’m imagining when people conduct a seance, they have to create an environment that is proper to summon the energy. And it sounds like you lay out the table, you light the candles, you create the scene, and then hopefully you are blessed with a visitation.
Ben: Well, before I got married, before I had a baby, I would have obviously a lot more free time to just sit waiting for something to spark. Then having less of that free time was a little tricky, getting inspired on a schedule that was entirely not my own, very much determined by a tiny baby and how much she would sleep or not sleep. But maybe some of the deliriousness contributed towards coming up with some ideas. I don’t really know if my brain has even processed the last six months of my life yet. But somehow I managed to write a decent amount of songs that I am currently feeling really optimistic and great about. So I’m really stoked to finish our record and start rolling it out and taking that next step where I get to share it with people.
Russell: What do you still have ahead of you for the record?
Ben: We just have the extra layering, like textures and acoustic layering and a couple of background vocals, still to do. One or two spots where guitar riffs and feedback tracks and stuff like that…
Russell: Aesthetic stuff.
Ben: Yeah, where you’re thinking about the mix and how it’s going to come across and the little extra flavors that you need to just get the right feeling across in the part. So we’re very much at the finish line. It’s very close. The songs are there, it’s just the little extra ear candy that you think about from the listener’s perspective.
Russell: I feel like that’s such a crucial step, and one of my favorites. And also one of the most torturous sometimes. Because I know for our record, I brought everything to Matt Schimelfenig to mix at The Bunk like I always do. And there’s always this feeling that I have where I’m bringing them the songs and I’m like, “Hey, this is everything. It’s close.” But in my mind there’s always a gap. It’s basically like, Matt needs to push this across the finish line because it’s not there and I don’t know what to do anymore. I’ve reached the end of my skill set.
Ben: Yeah. Well, sometimes you need an outside perspective and a good producer or mixer to look at what’s all there, and maybe it needs more, maybe it needs less stuff, and then maybe it’s just about leveling different things off and how things are EQed and whatnot. But, yeah, getting it to that finish line where it actually feels finished — sometimes it never does, and you’re kind of just like, “Well, this is as done as it’s going to be.” But that’s the funny thing about making records, because you change so much over the years and then you revisit stuff and you’re like, Wow, that was the choice I made? And, yeah, I would have probably done this differently now, but it’s cool because it’s a living snapshot of where you were at that point.
Russell: Sometimes I like to think, too, it’s an indication of, Alright, well, maybe I’m learning some stuff because I definitely would have cut that third verse and I probably would have reduced the outro by a minute-and-a-half. I feel like anytime I listen back to something that’s old, I’m like, Wow, I was really just chilling on that part.
Ben: What would you want your musical legacy to feel like, to an outsider looking at your musical journey?
Russell: I hope that they would see someone playing around and just figuring it out. I don’t really know what I’m doing. I don’t really know the technical things. I don’t know anything about musical theory. I use Duolingo every day to try to learn how to read music again, like I used to be able to when I was nine years old and then lost. I think I’m just this way where I embrace the ignorance and just play, basically, and I would hope that someone could listen to the music that I’ve made over the last 25 years and be like, “Well, not all this is for me, but they’re trying some stuff out there having fun.” Or maybe not even having fun, but I would like it to be true that I have moved the thing around and turned a couple stones over in my own little way.
Ben: That’s great. Well, I’ve known you a long time and have followed all of your musical pursuits, and you’re one of my favorite songwriters. So it’s been really cool seeing that journey. You’re making stuff that resonates with me in different new, exciting ways. Every time you put out something new, it’s awesome. This record is a great example of that, so I’m stoked for it to come out and for everyone to hear it. The songs are great. They sound great, the melodies are amazing, you made really great choices. I don’t really know music theory either, and sometimes it’s the ignorance of that stuff that lets you find your own path and make your own sound. That’s where the good stuff is, in my opinion, because sometimes stuff that is a little overcooked or too stringent with music theory rules or whatever, it feels like there’s less heart to it. Sometimes. It’s not the case with everything, but I tend to gravitate towards the stuff that feels a little bit rougher around the edges.
Russell: Yeah, I do too. And thank you so much for saying that. It’s really kind and generous of you because you really have heard and witnessed every chapter, except for when I was like 13.
Ben: I have a couple of MP3s…
Russell: Yeah. We both have had this really unique perspective into one another’s musical journeys. It’s just amazing. I remember I worked at an ice cream shop when I was, I don’t know, 16 or 17, and we had just become friends.
Ben: On Myspace.
Russell: Yeah. I would come home from work and log on and see if I had a message from you. It was so sweet and I was so excited to be making this new friend, because I admired your music, and just your whole way was so kind and perceptive. I remember you sending me demos that you were working on, and they sounded better than anything I could ever imagine cooking up on my own. You had vocal harmonies, and I had never heard anything like that. I had heard the Beach Boys and the Beatles and all that, and even contemporary musicians that did harmonies and stuff, but the way you were doing it was different. And it felt crazy because it’s one thing to hear harmonies on a Beach Boys record, it’s another thing to hear harmonies that you know that your friend did in their bedroom at 10:30 PM when everyone was in bed. It kind of blew my mind, like, Woah, I could try to do that. I feel like you’ve just cracked the code open so many times for me over the years, and I’m so grateful and just so constantly inspired by the way you approach things.
Ben: Thank you, Russ.
Russell: Yeah. It’s just really cool that we’ve gotten to do this together for, like, our whole lives.
Ben: Yeah, for real. When we first started trading shows, and you brought us down to Tamaqua and we brought you up to Scranton, to 16 year old me, that felt like going on tour.
Russell: Absolutely.
Ben: Driving an hour, stopping getting fast food and playing a show in a totally different town to totally different kids. And there’d be a couple that would know our songs from Myspace or blogs or whatever, and then next time we were there, there’d be a few more. It was like tangible growth, and it was really exciting and cool to see where that music can take you different places. And that was kind of a huge catalyst for getting to go so many places that I never would have gone without playing music. So that was just a really cool, fundamentally important thing for me, to just get out of Scranton and play more shows other places and expand my world, but it was cool to be inspired by my friends’ bands and watch in real time the evolution of things. And it’s still cool, and it’s still happening.
Russell: It’s still happening! It’s almost like jumping on a magic carpet, playing music when you’re 13 or 14. You don’t even know what you’re doing, but you’re stepping onto a magic carpet that you just go anywhere. Even if you’re just like, “I’m playing in the next coal cracker town next to mine,” it’s still like, “Woah!”
Ben: I had a question jotted down. Tamaqua is a really beautiful place, and it has a much different pace and feel to Philly obviously. I was wondering how growing up there shaped your perspective as an artist, and then how did moving to Philly further mold that?
Russell: I have almost the exact same question for you. We both came from Northeastern Pennsylvania, and I’ll speak for myself here, but I feel like I perceived in the area that I grew up a kind of coldness and adversity. I’m not necessarily describing the people, though there was certainly plenty of that in the vibe of the community or whatever. But I’m thinking about just being on the bus in the morning to school and looking out the window and seeing an endless landscape of winterized foliage. Just dead, frozen, life on standby everywhere. Brown, bleak, cold. There’s a harshness. There’s a truth to it that when I was a kid I was kind of repelled by and afraid of. Superstitions would emerge of, What’s in those dead, cold woods to get me? It was fearful but constantly inspiring, just getting my imagination going. And I think I miss that. I was just home a couple days ago, hanging out with my parents and driving around, and I could just feel music happening around me. I could feel, If I would just get out of the car right now and play guitar… I probably wouldn’t write anything, but I would feel like I could. And I think sometimes I struggle to find that openness here.
To answer your question, I think that growing up there is the most prominent influence on me as an artist because I think it’s just in me. It’s automatic. I don’t think about it. but if you really look at the even the lyrical content of some of the songs, it’s all that stuff. It’s all me just going back through those places. There’s a line in the new record, in the song “Noonday Demon,” where I’m talking about spending the night in “Pepper’s pen” — we had a dog named Pepper and we had this big outdoor pen that was in this old barn foundation, and that’s where she lived. I never actually spent the night out there, but my head is still anchored so much in that area. And I think I hang on to that because, as much as when I was growing up I didn’t want to identify with it — I wanted to get out of Tamaqua as soon as I possibly could, and pretty much did — I’ve spent my life, since I moved to the city, coming to terms with how much of it is me. And it is most of me.
I wanted to ask you verbatim the same question, because I know we kind of went through the same journey.
Ben: Yeah. Scranton kind of felt the same way, where there was this absence of… I don’t know. You kind of had to create what you wanted to see, otherwise it just wasn’t going to be there. And there was a lot of people that would just go with what was popular, go with the flow, and not try to stand out too much. I think once I started asking, Why can’t I do that differently?, then I started being more prone to trying to create things instead of just do what was already there. I just started demoing songs on my family computer, on a hilariously awful microphone. It wasn’t like a wanting to rebel against the norm sort of thing. It was just, I want to follow what feels fulfilling for me and I want to create something that wasn’t there already. Music was my avenue to do that, and has been for more than half of my life.
Moving here, you would think that a different city might inspire you in a different way, and a lot of the time I’m kind of just looking back at Scranton and growing up and how I was shaped that way. And anything that does influence me here is through the lens of someone who grew up there, so it’s like an inescapable thing. It’s in my musical DNA, I guess.
Russell: Sometimes I think, too, that creativity comes from a place of wanting something that you don’t have. And sometimes I feel like living here, I’m so good at getting into routines where I have everything I need, I have everything I want. I mean, I’m always like, “I gotta get out of here,” or whatever, but I don’t. My world is small here. And every time I go home, I’m just reminded of the vastness of things and how the next house is so far away that you can only see it small. And when it becomes small, it becomes ambiguous, and it could be anything. It could be a tooth sticking out of the monster that is that mountain.
Ben: And meanwhile, you hear someone coughing through the wall.
Russell: [Laughs.] When you’re here, yeah, there’s no mystery about anything. Nothing is ambiguous.
Ben: Well, you’ve got a tour coming up and the record’s coming out. How are you feeling about it all?
Russell: It’s weird because I remember talking to you about the record — what was the day that we went to that guitar thing in the warehouse, we got pizza? And I remember just being like, “Dude, this record, I don’t know…” I was just talking to you about how hard it was for me to make it and get through it, and that feels like so long ago. It’s bizarre that the record in question is coming out this week, and so much has happened since then. I think I was talking with someone a little while ago and they were like, “I wonder if by the time the record comes out, you will have a different relationship with it.” And I think against all odds, I’m starting to. I think there’s a couple pretty good songs on here. I was just so consumed by my own neurotic doubts and stuff. But I’m feeling really excited. I feel so lucky to have been able to collaborate with people like I did for this record, working with different engineers and having friends come in and record on it.
Ben: And it sounds very cohesive. When you were explaining it to me, I was like, Wow, that’s a lot of different players, that’s a lot of different sounds, a lot of different variables here. And as soon as I heard it, I was like, Man, it really all came together. Everybody should listen to it. It’s an amazing record.
