Welcome to the Bahamas’ Newsletter by me, Afie (and sometimes Robbie).
I have a new album coming out (OCT 9) called Sad Hunk. The first song, “Own Alone”, comes out
today
.
Something like ten years ago I did a photo shoot, and in all the pictures they sent back, I was lit half in shadow, looking all brooding and mysterious. When my wife saw the photos the first thing she said was, ‘Whoa—sad hunk,’ and after that it became sort of a joke among our friends.
Regarding music though - I think I’m always trying to get closer and closer to the source, like the way old blues albums were made—there’s no production; all the emotion you’re hearing is just the players, the room, the song. It’s almost like a photograph as opposed to a painting, where if you don’t like the color of a certain flower in the garden, you change it. I want you to hear every word I’m saying, and take in the song and make it your own.
I drew much inspiration from my home life and all the joy and struggle that comes with building a family together. Having recently moved to the coast of Nova Scotia with my wife and two young daughters, the album was influenced by my family and surroundings.
Anyway, here’s some stuff a professional named Liz Barker wrote about my new album. It makes it sound really good -
An album born from charmed spontaneity and raw imagination,
Sad Hunk
unfolds in a genre-less groove-heavy and jangly sound beautifully suited for Jurvanen’s warm vocal presence. In its musing on what’s essential and what’s expendable in today’s world, the album offers up songs like “Own Alone”—a brightly kinetic track threaded with a bit of self-effacing wisdom (“Too broke to feel so wealthy/Too young to feel unhealthy/Too old to understand the selfie/Too far gone for you to help me”). “That song came from being fascinated by how being on our phones all the time changes us at a cellular level—it changes the way you think, it changes the way you operate,” says Jurvanen. “I’m not suggesting we become Luddites and churn our own butter, but I do think we need to question whether you really need to have this thing on you at all times.”
Elsewhere on
Sad Hunk
, Bahamas slips into a tender examination of love and all its complexities. One of the album’s most revealing moments, “Less Than Love” finds Jurvanen owning up to his anxiety about the ways he might fall short of his family’s expectations (“Everything that’s left unsaid/All the books I bought and never read/Thank god she can’t see into my head/She’d see I know nothing”). Penned with co-writers Dee White and Pat McLaughlin (John Prine, Bonnie Raitt), the acoustic-guitar-driven “Half Your Love” shares a profoundly heartfelt outpouring of affection for his wife. “It’s the first time I’ve ever co-written a song, but I feel every line of it to the point of tears,” Jurvanen says. And on the album-closing “Wisdom of the World,” with its shapeshifting textures and unruly guitar solo, Bahamas presents a layered meditation on forgiveness and regret. “That one’s about my brother, who’s a recovering alcoholic and recovering addict and just got sober again a while ago,” says Jurvanen. “Writing it helped me to think about how to love people who are hard to love, which has been a recurring theme for me for a long time. Because no matter how you feel about someone, they still get to live their life. We all have to figure out a way to try and live together, even when it’s hard.”
For all its moments of heavy-hearted reflection,
Sad Hunk
ultimately channels a certain lightness, the pure elation in expressing what often goes unspoken. “You say things in songs that you’d never, ever say in conversation,” Jurvanen notes. “But it feels really good to say those things. I don’t know why telling people the most basic things you’re thinking is so hard sometimes, but it is. ”In sharing the album with the world, Jurvanen hopes that his songs might inspire others to embrace their own sad-hunk tendencies. “We’re all sad hunks—we’re all these broken beautiful human beings,” he says. “The idea that there’s only one way to live life is so backward. So instead of listening to the noise, just get in touch with what’s inside and find something you love to do, and then do it well. And don’t let yourself be hard. Just be soft. Be as soft with each other as you possibly can.”
Hope you have a chance to listen. And hope we have a chance to be in a room together and play music soon.
Afie
Sad Hunk.
I listened to the new single a few times this weekend and absolutely love it. The sound is new and fresh, like Lonely Loves sounded when i brought Pink Strat home from the record store and popped it into the CD player for the first time, back in the olden days. I hadn't heard of Bahamas but the album cover spoke to me. I think it said "this is going to be something else" and it was. I've loved all the albums. Each one is full of its own inventions but all unmistakably Afie. Before each one came out, I'd prepare myself - this one might just be a good album, not a revelation, how many more ideas can this guy have as he (and as he put it) "gets closer to the source?" Apparently there was never a need for me to worry on Afie's behalf and this time, having heard Own Alone, I'm scheduling a vacation day on October 9. It will be Sad Hunk Day. Haven't done one of those since Blackstar came out.
This newsletter was a great read too. It washed over me kind of like the film of Afie helping his mom prepare for Christmas dinner a few years back. A warm and thoughtful introduction to the human that is Bahamas. A few interesting details about what's new, a hug, like a postcard from a freind travelling far away. You read it then turn it over and look again at the picture they chose for you this trip - Sad Hunk, yes please!
Thanks Afie, a pleasure to read! Your music has become a sort of soundtrack to the time my girlfriend and I spend together. I hope we can all enjoy the new tunes in the same room one day in the hopeful near future. Cheers from Boston, take care.