Somewhere between Los Angeles and Glasgow, that's where you'll find Frightened Rabbit. It's a curious conversation, one carried out on email, Whatsapp, and Skype. Frontman Scott Hutchison moved out to the United States two years ago, at a point when Frightened Rabbit weren't entirely sure what their next step would be – or if there would even be another step.
“We'd finished an absolutely mammoth tour, and that had kind of effected us – mentally, physically, we were totally exhausted,” the singer explains. “I'd kind of had enough, anyway. It just took us a little while to get back into having any inclination to getting the band back together again, I suppose.”
Frightened Rabbit is something should be done for love, he argues, not simply out of habit. “If at the end of those six months there was still none of that love then we might not have gone back to it at all,” he grimaces. “With (previous album) 'Pedestrian Verse' we had reached almost a conclusion, of sorts. It was something that we'd been looking for, maybe for the ten years previously. And it was almost like we got to that point that we'd been wanting to get to.”
“And then after that you do start to wonder, well, it's album number five, we're feeling like old bastards, so what's the point of another Frightened Rabbit album? Does the world really need one? And where are we going to take it, having taken this guitar-led thing to a place where it's at its peak. All those questions were coming up, and in the end we had to answer it with: we should go and make a new record when we feel like we need to do one. And that'll answer itself, basically.”
The new album certainly answers those questions. 'Painting Of A Panic Attack' feels virile and vital, with Frightened Rabbit are their most blood-curdling intense and yet also most soothing, their most musically challenging and yet also most direct. “I do think that it's a much more stark contrast than ever, with this album. I do think that it holds some of the most beautiful music that we've made. But then, it's the greatest contrast between that and the lyrics. And that's why I thought the title was spot on, because it's a beautiful presentation of something horrific. That contrast. I guess we've always done bright music, but with twisted lyrics. But I think this time it's much more pointed.”
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Gradually coalescing after a period spent doing other activities, the varied members of Frightened Rabbit found themselves tasked with picking past a decade's worth of working methods, routines, and artistic habits. Scott's move – from Scotland to Los Angeles – placed his life in an extreme, and very new, environment, and this feeling carried over into the band itself. “It's a theme not just within myself but within the band, a re-discovery of what your purpose is and who you are,” he insists. “I do think there's a sense of total reset, and re-assessing what your whole being is, I suppose. And that goes for the whole band.”
“We had to question ourselves, and question our purpose a lot more than in the past where we were just naturally being Frightened Rabbit,” he continues. “And when you start asking yourself why does this band exist… that's how you get an album that's quite confident and self-assured and mature, and at the same time it's also full of questions. Gladly, that we haven't answered on this record. I actually feel like there's a path that we started on this that I would like to pursue. And it's almost set us up for another five.”
Frightened Rabbit's path of renewal was aided by maps provided by cartographer-in-chief Aaron Dessnor. The producer acted as a voice of counsel throughout the process, giving both encouragement and criticism where it was needed. “There's not many people that I would have involved in the bones of the songwriting,” Scott admits, “but Aaron is one of them. I spent a week with him and it became quite clear that he was interested in taking it further because he'd already invested so much in the demos. He's listened and really, really analysed what we'd done, so he was already the most involved person in it. So it makes sense. He continued to be the most involved person in the process to the end.”
“His work ethic, and the amount of time he spends thinking about music, is sort of mind-boggling,” the singer continues. “He's so hands on that it can sometimes turn into his project, in a way, so we had to kind of pull back from that. But at the same time, it shows his absolute belief and involvement in the band.”
“We needed someone to say: I think this record could be a real turning point for you guys, and I want to help you. He was so aware of what we've done before, he was like: we're not doing that. We're not taking major shifts but we're not going to use those tricks that you've used for the last ten years. We're going to take it somewhere else.”
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A re-discovery of what your purpose is and who you are…
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Sessions took place at Dessner's now closed studio in Brooklyn, and also at the Dreamland complex in up state New York. The split between the two, it seems, exemplifies the wider light/shade dichotomy within the band itself – the scale of Dessner's operation took everyone in the band by surprise.
“It is a garage. It's literally a garage,” Scott laughs. “I mean, it's a very nice garage, don't get me wrong. And with amazing equipment in it. But it's tiny, and it's a very close, claustrophobic atmosphere – compared to our last couple of albums, which were recorded in quite spacious places, it's been quite open.”
“It's really important to change your setting,” he insists. “It informs the sound of the album, and I think that's perhaps, in the end, it was the combination of a big, beautiful church and a really tiny space, and I think there is that combination of openness and small room claustrophobia in this album, and I can hear both of those places in it. And that's a really great combination, I think. Because some songs really suited being recorded in the garage, and some of them suited the big, open space that we had before.”
'Death Dream' opens the record, and provides it with its title – opening in sparse, ethereal tones, it then fills out to an emphatic, guttural finale. “I kind of have a hatred of people describing their dreams,” he admits. “I think that it was a really visceral thing and it presented itself on a plate. And to me, it was a wee gift. It was a terrible dream, but it was so cinematic – it was really well shot! Compliments to the director of the dream!”
“I would never have described a dream in a song prior to that, but it was so detailed. There was enough detail to write a little story about this. So I did. But it's not something that I'd probably do again, unless the right dream came up. No one wants to hear about me riding dinosaurs or anything, you know?”
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I think it was easily the hardest album to make…
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Tangential modes of experience litter the album. 'Woke Up Hurting' continues the theme of sleep, but songs such as 'Wish I Was Sober' introduce ideas of anxiety and alcohol abuse. “I think the out of sync thing definitely, on this album, stems from living in Los Angeles. I didn't feel like part of that city. I felt really out of step and disorientated. I spent my whole adult life in either Glasgow or Edinburgh, and you just know where things are, where your pals are, and who your pals are. And then at the age of 33 to completely disorientate yourself and go to a new city… I think a lot of that content stems from being completely out of step in a city that I wasn't a part of and never really found myself to be a part of.”
These feelings, then, are what fuel the album – it's what turns glacial ambience into something jagged, something sore, but it's also what turns ugly emotions into some of the most crisp and melodic moments in the band's catalogue. It's the sound of a band – finally – coming to terms with itself.
“There was turmoil when making this album,” Scott admits. “I wasn't present, there was a lot of moments where we were unsure of each other. I think it was easily the hardest album to make, and there's a message in a couple of the songs that isn't just for my significant other, it's also for the band. I think that 'all things must pass' ethic came into some of the songwriting on this album.”
It may have been a difficult process, but the results are quite something – 'Painting Of A Panic Attack' is wonderful, a record of rare breadth, but also unity. It finds Frightened Rabbit seizing new ground, opening fresh space, and re-negotiating a decade-long musical conversation. “I think we now know the terms that we should make our albums on. And this has been influenced by Aaron. He makes music so much on his own terms, and to see that, and be present, and hear how he talks about making music… because, y'know, every band goes through it.”
“To know that you do have a purpose. However small the space you occupy as a band that's kind of irrelevant – there are still avenues to explore with this, like what becomes a wee family, a special group of friends. And that's really the focus that we need from now on. We build our own little world and we then present that. And I think that's a world that we've made for ourselves – and we want that to continue existing.”
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'Painting Of A Panic Attack' is out now.
