The Ryan Pollie Interview
Ryan Pollie never set out to make a cancer record. The Los Angeles songwriter penned most of his self-titled, self-produced album, his first under his own name, before he got sick. Inspired by the warm, inviting sounds of '70s singer-songwriters like Jackson Browne, Carole King, and Graham Nash, Pollie already knew he wanted to make the most personal music of his career. He had released two albums as Los Angeles Police Department, and now he was ready to shed the protective barrier of his old band name — to make music, simply, as himself. And then he got cancer. It happened the year of his Saturn return, an astrological phenomenon where Saturn comes back to the same place in the sky as it was when you were born, one that's supposed to bring both hardship and transformation. Nearing the end of his twenties, Pollie had already been mulling over the big questions: spirituality, purpose, the fleeting nature of existence. "I just wrote a record about mortality and whether or not I believe in anything, and then I'm faced with the biggest challenge of my life," he says. The record begins and ends with choir music. In the photograph on the album’s cover, Pollie stands inside a church in Stimigliano, Italy. Though he was raised Catholic, Pollie has found himself on a much more individual spiritual journey, one that’s reflected in the album’s lyrics. On the stunning, swelling chorus of "Aim Slow," Pollie sings, "My God's insane." He doesn't sound angry; he's not fuming at the chaos of being alive, just contemplating it gently, ready to take it all in and let it pass through him. Open, searching, and vulnerable, Ryan Pollie takes full advantage of the language of 20th century California pop to bolster its queries on the perplexing nature of being human. Piano, guitar, and bass intertwine with banjo, pedal steel, and saxophone to support Pollie's sugar-sweet hooks.
Bolder and crisper than the albums he's made as Los Angeles Police Department, his self-titled record emerges from a deeply collaborative place. He invited many of his closest friends over to his home to record the album, and a feeling of warm camaraderie shines through the music. "When somebody plays on a song, their character is in it," he says. "I like to think all my friends are on this record. Their personality is in it. That was really important to me. I'm able to do what I do, mentally and emotionally, because of the people around me." As Pollie went through chemotherapy in the summer of 2018, he relied on the support of his friends to finish the album. "Mixing is where it all came together for me," he says. "Because I was sick, it was this new challenge — 'I have to finish this record. I have to get out of bed. I don't feel too well, but I'm going to go down the street to the studio and I'm going to give my notes and overdub some piano.' I finished the record while I was sick, and that was a big thing for me, being sick and being able to finish something. It made me feel strong." One song, "Only Child," addresses that period directly. Ironically, it's one of the more upbeat tracks on the record, tackling the fear and uncertainty of illness with Pollie's characteristic levity and humor.
"My hair is falling out/My parents are calling now," he sings amid a buoyant bassline and trills of flute. Other songs work through periods of loss, confusion, and ultimately triumph. The delicate, synth-driven "Raincoat" traces the end of a relationship with careful empathy. Against a briskly strummed guitar, "Leaving California" fleshes out his relationship with his parents and his childhood home in New England, while "Getting Clean" makes use of a glowing West Coast pop palette to articulate the frustration of trying to break out of a deep rut. Living through illness becomes just one chapter in a record that celebrates living in general, and all the difficulties and surprises that come with it. More than anything, Pollie's self-titled release is a testament to the power of vulnerability—to the magic that happens when you open yourself up and invite the world inside, no matter how frightening or uncertain it may be.
(From Anti- bio page)
Tell me about growing up in Philly. What was your childhood like growing up? When did you first begin to fall in love with music? Was this something that was relevant around your household growing up? Do you have any siblings?
Growing up in Philly was great! Feel like loving music was just always a part of existence for me. I was so lucky to have a piano in the house and parents who really appreciated art. You learn so much from your folks, and they often took us to the theater, the ballet, the cinema. There were different moments in my childhood though that show how much I was invested in music as if a teen version of 5 year old me obsessing over hot wheel cars. I’ll never forget loading the Backstreet Boys CD into the CD ROM drive of our family desktop and being able to watch the boys in video content. I saw N*Sync Play Disney Orlando, and The Ninja Turtles opened. I’ll never forget my older sister giving me Dookie by Green Day. I used to have dreams in middle school (let’s be honest, high school too) about being in Blink-182. The Beatles are surely a better band, but I have never loved a band the way I loved Blink. My parents shook hands with Tom Delonge at a Jon Kerry rally, and I believe I threw a temper tantrum when they told me. I’ll also never forget getting in big trouble at school, and part of my punishment was to hand over all of my CDs to my mom... I wasn’t allowed to have CDs with Parental Advisory Stickers, and in a demonstration of guilt and part of my penance- I broke a bunch of Limp Bizkit and Dre 2001 discs in half!
What would you and your friends do for fun growing up? Who were some of your earliest influences? When and where did you see your first concert and when did it dawn on you that you wanted to be a musician? Did you participate in any groups, or projects prior to starting out your journey as a solo musician?
My friends and I were definitely the band kids in our grade. We wore that proudly because none of us were star athletes and a lot of my friends were smarty pantses. You couldn’t really wear a badge of good grades in a cool way back then, so the band thing was huge for us. I didn’t get as good grades as my friends. We were in choir and jazz band and the musicals too. Music was the thing that didn’t really feel like sports or school. I could try really hard at it without consciously making that effort if that makes sense. And you could joke around and be yourself - something I had trouble with in class and at sports. I think we started by covering Blink and Green Day and Weezer, and the four of us went to band camp. This is before school of rock, but essentially it was like a 2 week program of showing kids how to get a song together and then go to a studio and record it. I think they were surprised when we showed up and wanted to track a full record of my 14 year old original material. The bands we were listening to gave us a perfect format to share our feelings about kid romance and teen anxiety. Tube Screamers, 4 chords, vocal harmony that we had on lock from choir and school musicals.
This was middle school, but by the end of high school we ended up playing so many house shows and school functions that we could book an entire church at Bryn Mawr College and fill it with kids from town. By the time I got to university, I had all of this teenage rock band experience which I think served me well. You go through all your first band breakups, ego checks, disaster performances, amazing performances - all as a kid. By high school we had discovered the Greatful Dead and our life long obsession with the Beach Boys and the Beatles began. So it was this weird melding of our pop punk instincts and our new love for mid century rock music! In college I made a lot of electronic music that reflected the college rock of the time. Animal Collective, Dan Deacon, MGMT. There was amazing acoustic music too, Fleet Foxes and Grizzly Bear and Beirut were releasing insane albums and For Emma came out. But I was in a very isolated writing phase. I would always do everything alone, and it would stay this way for years. Electronic music provided me my first portable recording studio to do everything myself, and I was so grateful.
You recorded your debut LP in 2019, tell me about writing and recording that album. What was the overall vision and approach to this record? How did the deal with ANTI- come about? That following year you released your follow up LP “Stars” on Mapache Records/Forged Artifacts/ What was a huge part of writing and recording this record and what did you want to express and achieve with this release?
When I moved to LA from school in Maine, I started plotting a way to make a record on my own in my bedroom, but I wanted it to sound like a band. I had grown out of listening to electronic music and wanted to use only guitars and drums and vocals. That was the start of Los Angeles Police Department, and the first album was all done on one microphone in my bedroom. The drums were just on the side of my bed that I wouldn’t roll to in the morning. That album grew in a really lovely way online, and I was fortunate enough to sign with ANTI-. With their support, I was able to make a record with Jonathan Rado who was hugely inspirational for me in becoming a producer for other people. As I became hot wheel car obsessed with the records of Carole King and Jackson Browne, along with so many other early 70’s songwriters, I changed my artist name to Ryan Pollie. I love how bold and personal records are that have a first and last name to them. Like it’s a book. I’m kind of through my laurel canyon phase, but the artist name being me I really like. Brian Eno, Lou Reed, David Bowie, Dave Matthews. These are names of artists, not just musicians! So it inspires me to just fill out all areas of my inspiration and let myself become more of an artist than a musician known for one thing. Hopefully. I’ve done 2 albums under my own name, self titled and Stars. They feel like love letters to my favorite bands, but also they are deeply personal. I went through chemotherapy and cancer during the writing and recording of the self titled album.
2020 saw the release of your single “Museum At The End Of Time”. Can you tell me about writing and recording those and what you wanted to explore with this material? You worked with the fine folks over at Perpetual Doom on this release. How did this all come about? What’s in store for this Spring and Summer? Any shows, or tours in the works? Is there anything else you would like to further share with readers?
Appreciate you digging and finding this lesser known ambient project of mine! Very cool. Yes, Perpetual Doom is a fantastic label and I have so much admiration for them and their artists. Museum was my first ambient release, and I have found myself back in the ambient space in a big way recently. I just released the Fridge (2023), an album of homemade tape loops - and am excited to announce that the Fridge 2 is on its way! I’m also producing and part of a new LA experimental ensemble called Academy of Light. The band consists of as few as 5 and as many as 20 performers at one time and it’s really exciting to be a part of. That album is being recorded now, and the sessions have been really inspirational and otherworldly. That album should hopefully start to leak out by the fall. We’re playing April 28th at Genghis Cohen, May 5th at Lauren Powell Projects for the Art Installation of my film for the Fridge album, and May 30th at the LA Fair. In addition to that, you’ll be able to see the workshop performances of a show I’m working on for my next vocal album under my own name as well. Kind of a musical theater vibe…
