It's been eons since far-out classics like "E.T.I. (Extra Terrestrial Intelligence)," but Blue Öyster Cult are still enveloped in the sci-fi dream. At 79, singer and multi-instrumentalist Eric Bloom still plays video games every day. "I'm playing 'Diablo Immortal,' 'Nexus War' and 'Return of Shadow,'" he reports over Zoom, at home in Florida, with wall art of Saturnian rings and moons swirling overhead.

Later on, Bloom remembers Allen Lanier, their founding guitarist who passed in 2013, at age 67. "He was probably the brightest guy in Blue Öyster Cult intellect-wise," Bloom says of his late friend. "He always had a book." BÖC's been irresistibly brainy from the jump; they got saddled with the "heavy metal" genre tag, but that never made that style of music, nor fit that macho archetype.

So are the nuances of this cult classic rock band. If you only know the ever-spellbinding "Don't Fear the Reaper" and cowbell jokes — well, you have a lifetime of entertainment ahead of you. Happily, the band is still forging ahead at full capacity. Their last album of new material, 2020's The Symbol Remains, was excellent and one of their most consistent. (And, no, that's not graded on a legacy-act curve.)

Now, they've followed it up with Ghost Stories — an album of songs of yore whose recordings were never finished, until now. "It's for the hardcore BÖC fan," Bloom admits of this collection of tunes, which could have ended up on 1979's Mirrors or 1983's The Revölution by Night if things went in a different direction. (The limit of how much audio could fit on an LP, or cassette, was one factor.) But tracks like "Late Night Street Fight" and "So Supernatural" could make you one.

When you visit BÖC's homepage, you're greeted with an emblazoned "On Tour Forever!" — and not for nothing. In a 100+ show-per-year touring schedule that would flatten many bands half their age, Bloom and brother in arms Donald Roeser — that's Buck Dharma to you and me — carry the flame throughout the small theaters, state fairs and casino resorts of America.

Dharma's the only original member of the band, back when they were Soft White Underbelly — a paraphrasal of a Winston Churchill comment about Italy's role in World War II, by their manager, in-house poet and overall impresario, Sandy Pearlman. On Christmas Day, 1968, Bloom moved into the band house in Great Neck on Long Island, as their tour manager. The next year, he was their vocalist.

In 1971, they became Blue Öyster Cult, named from a Pearlman poem about a conspiracy of aliens taking over the world. (To get a handle on the lore, just read the lyrics to their 1988 album Imaginos, all drawn from Pearlman's bonkers poems and scripts.)  And aside from one brief breakup during a rough '80s, they've been powering ahead ever since.

"We're not dead yet," Bloom deadpans from behind wraparound shades. But they're still telling Ghost Stories.

*Eric Bloom performing with Blue Öyster Cult in 1978. Photo: Ed Perlstein/Redferns/Getty Images*

The Symbol Remains did so well that their label, Frontiers Music out of Italy, chomped at the bit for more output. However, they couldn't make a new album at that juncture; the road dogs had to be on tour. Eventually, the idea came about to return to unfinished material from 1978 to 1983, de-mix them, remix them and complete them.

As the equally boyish and soft-spoken Dharma explains, the Ghost Stories multitracks weren't recorded in a proper studio, but in a rehearsal hall to eight-track tape. They got the tapes from their original audio engineer, George Geranios, who baked the tapes and, in effect, "pre-produced" the record (Bloom says with air quotes).

Afterward, Geranios sent them to Richie Castellano's studio and still found deterioration on the vocal of the first single, "So Supernatural." BÖC leapt at the opportunity to employ cutting-edge technology to complete the music.

"We deconstructed some of them with these AI software tools to separate the individual elements of the ones that weren't multi-track," Bloom explains. Original BÖC drummer Albert Bouchard, who left the band in 1981, stepped behind the kit to complete the tunes that weren't fully tracked. Albert's brother, their former bassist Joe Bouchard, who left in '86, followed suit.

Regarding "So Supernatural," "Joe Bouchard had to come in, current day, and re-sing it. I believe that's the only song that had a vocal re-sung," Bloom says. Neither he nor Dharma had to re-sing anything; he's not sure that Dharma played anything new, but knows Castellano had to replay elements that were missing. "Some of those older tapes had holes on them where they were abandoned before rhythm guitars were put on them, things like that," he says.

Overall, "It was a nice collaborative effort with the original band members," Dharma says. Naturally, as they flip through these Ghost Stories, both Dharma and Bloom's heads fill with memories of the original sessions. Especially of one very, very critical figure in the band's history.

"Of course, Allen Lanier is gone now," Dharma says. "But to hear him play, it makes me feel good to hear him and hear the band as it was at that time period. It's like a snapshot of what it was."

Dharma can mentally place himself in the room where this music was made. "It was sort of transitional in the band's career because 'Reaper' had been a hit, and once you have a hit, the record company wants you to get another hit," he says. "There's quite a bit of pressure to sustain your level of output and quality. It's a burden."

For a white-hot streak in the '70s and early '80s, Blue Öyster Cult were as big as your ZZ Tops or Cheap Tricks. In the '80s, "The Reaper," "Burnin' For You," "Godzilla," and the like remain staples of classic rock radio.

Still, "It's not like we were hitmakers in terms of writing or performing or posing or whatever you're supposed to do to be a hit recording artist," Dharma says. "We just always thought of ourselves as an album band. And we didn't mind taking the road less traveled as far as styles and going out on limbs and stuff like that."

"I think that's where we did our best stuff, when we just didn't give a thought about commercial success," Dharma concludes. "So, it was an odd time for us, but we persevered. And here we are. It's 2024, for crying out loud."

According to press materials, Ghost Stories "marks a fitting finale to the recording legacy of one of rock's most iconic fixtures from the past 50 years." This notion clearly irks Bloom; he denies it without reservation. "That is record label speech, and my answer to that is never say never," he says. "There's no reason why we couldn't do another project if there was a reason to."

*Buck Dharma performing with Blue Öyster Cult in 1978. Photo: Ed Perlstein/Redferns/Getty Images*

Beyond having eternal radio staples, Blue Öyster Cult have sneakily resonated with younger generations. Their catalog is vast, and full of treasures, oddities and are-they-or-aren't-they missteps to argue about; this is a band with a lot to offer to the instant-access Spotify generation.

By the way, Dharma's not buying the "Spotify is evil" line: "People bitch about the streaming and who gets the money and stuff, but actually streaming is more equitable to the artists than it ever was in the physical product days," he contends.

Rather, he puts the onus more on the predatory deals with labels: "The split is better, and the bookkeeping is much better, because every listen is logged and no one's really cheating on that. You may complain about who gets the percentage of what, but if your music is popular, you are making money now."

Everyone knows the Christopher Walken "more cowbell" skit from SNL, but BÖC heads have been found in many a writer's room; they've been referenced, and played, repeatedly on shows that burrowed into millennials' heads young, from "The Simpsons" to "That '70s Show." They've even infiltrated indie, punk and alternative: Bloom being credited as "E. Bloom" led one Dennes Dale Boon from San Pedro, California to become D. Boon.

Neither Dharma or Bloom ever met the Minutemen legend, who was tragically hurled from a van in the Arizona Desert in 1985, marking another member of rock's "27 Club." But their camps are close; Bloom has a fond memory of Mike Watt joining BÖC live to perform the blazing "The Red and the Black" — which, Watt has maintained over the years, was the first song he and Boon ever played together.

"I'm grateful for them giving a damn about Blue Öyster Cult, because I certainly appreciate what they did with it," Dharma says. And, unrelated, Bloom recently caught wind that none other than Dave Grohl's a huge fan.

"Every time our name comes up, it's always something positive," Bloom says. And whether or not Ghost Stories will mark the end of the line, Blue Öyster Cult are not apparitions to be relegated to the past. There've been ups and downs galore with this complicated, idiosyncratic, rewarding band — but as agents of fortune, Lady Luck's been with them indeed.

And to the Reaper — the main character in their greatest song, who will take us and everyone we know eventually — better luck next time.

Living Legends: Def Leppard's Phil Collen Was The Product Of A Massive Transition For Music — And He Wouldn't Change A Thing

Contemporary music is filled with artists who have transitioned from social media stardom to serious streams and even Music's Biggest Night. Kenia Os is proof of this trajectory: After building a massive following on YouTube, Instagram, and TikTok, she established as one of Mexico's top pop stars. 

Kenia Os' ability to pivot successfully is also apparent in her music. Her 2022 debut album Cambios de Luna leaned into trap and reggaeton, while follow-up K23 fully embraced Latin pop with elements of EDM. Her "Universo K23" netted Kenia Os her first Latin GRAMMY nomination for Best Long Form Music Video. 

On her latest album, Pink Aura, the 24-year-old seamlessly blends her worlds of Latin pop and urbano music. "I feel very comfortable making pop," Kenia Os tells GRAMMY.com.  I also love Latin urban music and reggaeton, especially reggaeton Mexa that's blowing up…I wanted to make music in that style as well." 

Pink Aura sees Kenia pushing pop into new territory — with the help of some friends. Puerto Rican singer Álvaro Díaz is featured on the futuristic, drum 'n' bass-infused "Bobo," while Puerto Rican trans rapper Villano Antillano appears on the euphoric "VIP." Argentina's La Joaqui helps Kenia Os meld reggaeton with cumbia on the freaky bop "Kitty." Reggaeton Mexa, or Mexican reggaeton, artists Yeri Mua and Ghetto Kids join Kenia for the sensual banger "Mamita Rica." Elsewhere, Os also links up with another influencer-turned-singer Bella Poarch for the fierce "F* OFF."

In an interview with GRAMMY.com, Kenia Os opens up about overcoming the stigma against artists coming from social media and the empowering meaning behind her Pink Aura album. 

This interview has been edited for clarity.

How would you describe the experience of making the jump from YouTube and social media to becoming a pop star?

It's been incredible. It's been an adventure that I've been on for three or more years. 

At the start, and even now, it's still been a bit difficult to get respect from the music industry. Since day one when I started making music, I've always taken this very seriously, making great music with good producers and my record label. I feel very confident about this new album that we've put out and I feel fulfilled as an artist.  

As someone who did come from social media, what did your Latin GRAMMY nomination mean to you last year?

That day I cried all day. I couldn't believe it. I was very happy. It made me think about all the effort I’ve put in these past few years, and those times I was tired in the studio and thought about quitting. There were times I told myself, I don’t want to keep doing this because it’s very tiring to prove [to people] the artist that I am. I felt like everything was worth it. The hard work that me and my team have put into this over the years has been worth it.  

An artist that has a similar career trajectory to you concerning social media is Bella Poarch. I can imagine that you probably bonded well with her while collaborating on the song "F* OFF."

Working with Bella was an incredible experience. Sometimes when you do collaborations, there's artists that are very much artists. You know what I mean? They love music, but they don't know a lot about navigating social media or what works in that space. 

With Bella, what happened was that we could record TikTok videos and create content for social media. It was very natural and genuine. We shared ideas with each other like, "We'll make TikTok videos this way or you go here and I go there." [Laughs.] It was very genuine how we developed the content for marketing our collaboration. It was very beautiful. It's a very different experience to work with someone who also understands social media.

Tell me about the title of this new album — is there a story behind it?

My fans have asked me, "Kenia, why do you have everything pink? You have said before that you hated the color pink." It's not that I hated pink, but I had always said I didn't want pink in the background of my interviews, in my outfits, or anything. 

The other day I was with my mom, looking at photos from when I was a little girl, and I saw everything in my room was pink. I was thinking about when I started fighting this color. I realized I started to hold back that feminine energy to be able to face the industry, to be the person in charge of my family, and keep up that livelihood. For me, this album was forgiving that feminine energy, embracing it, and healing myself, and above all, letting it shine. 

You’re bridging the gap between Latin urban sounds and pure Latin pop on this album. Was that what you hoped to accomplish with that kind of fusion?

I feel very comfortable making pop. I love pop and it's the genre I enjoy the most. Every time I'm in the studio, I'm writing with my co-writers and producers, and we always make pop. 

I also love Latin urban music and reggaeton, especially reggaeton Mexa that's blowing up. We have artists in that scene who are becoming very big. I feel very proud and I wanted to make music in that style as well because I like going to the clubs and I like to hear myself within that genre. 

You collaborated with one of the top female artists in reggaeton Mexa, Yeri Mua, in "Mamita Rica." How would you describe the experience of working with her?

That was very beautiful. We went to the studio together and there was her whole team. There were her co-writers. 

We were all surprised because you would think that she puts effects on her voice, but no, that's how she really sounds. As we say, she sounds very sexy and makes noises like meowing. [Laughs]. It was very fun! It felt very great to work with her. 

All the reggaeton Mexa that's coming up in Mexico makes me so happy. I believe it was time with Mexico making more noise globally through música mexicana, reggaeton, and pop, and above all, with a sound that's very unique to us. 

You’ve always supported the LGBTQIA+ community throughout your career. On this album, you collaborated with Villano Antillano, who is breaking down barriers for queer artists in Latin music. How did the song "VIP" with Antillano come together?

It's very beautiful to know that I have a lot of fans in the LGBTQIA+ community and that they identify with my music and feel supported by me. It's very important for me to be someone who can speak up for them; it's important for me to support them as well and spread their message through my music, what I say, and with what I do. I stand with them and I'll support them in any way that I can.

Villana is one of my favorite artists. I love everything that she does. When she jumped on this track and we heard it, I almost wanted to cry. The song was perfect for her. When I met her, it was incredible because we connected a lot as friends. We were laughing the whole time while making the music video. We have the same ways of saying things. I love her so much. I loved getting to know her and I got a great friendship out of this collaboration.  

What do you want people to take away from the 'Pink Aura'?

I was telling my girlfriends the other day that this album is perfect for when you're getting ready [for a night out]. When you're in your room getting ready and putting on creams, perfume, and makeup. Then you have a little drink before going out to party. 

This was made so people can enjoy it and connect with it in their room, in their cars, and in the clubs. It was made with a lot of love and the most pink side of myself and feminine energy that I hope resonates with girls and boys too. I want to heal that part of us that we sometimes hide or put to the side in order to face certain situations in life. 

What do you want to accomplish next with your music?

I want to go global. I love my country and I love that my concerts in Mexico are always very full. The people of Mexico love me a lot, but I want to take my music to other countries. I want to be an artist that is internationally known. 

I love pop and I see myself doing pop all my life, but I want to experiment with more genres. I would love to do another reggaeton song and then a corrido tumbado song with guitars. Above all, I want to hold the flag of my country high up wherever I go.

10 Women Artists Leading A Latin Pop Revolution: Kenia Os, Belinda & More

Aaron Cole may be uncertain about having enough money for the week, or if the people in his life will recover from their illnesses. But deep down, he believes that God will always have their backs, because "there's somethin' about the name Jesus."

In this episode of Positive Vibes Only, Cole delivers a live performance of the song "SBTN," which originally features Kirk Franklin and arrives on Cole's newest album, SORRY, I CHANGED, out April 26 via Provident Label Group. The project also sees appearances from fellow gospel singer DOE.

"I'ma give You Praise/ Your mercy follow me all of my days/ Always gon' love me, despite my ways," the Christian rapper sings. "And I know that/ That I'm blessed/ And I'm highly favored/ Why would I worry?"

"[This album] is not just music, but it's a movement of people that have been through it all, not perfect by any means," Cole said in an Instagram post. "Through it all, you're still standing and molding into the person God is calling you to be."

Press play on the video above to watch Aaron Cole's comforting performance of "SBTN," and check back to GRAMMY.com every Monday for more new episodes of Positive Vibes Only.

Seventeen is more than just a K-pop group; it's a musical phenomenon that challenges conventions and redefines what it means to be a star in the South Korean music scene. Formed in 2015, the group consists of 13 members who are divided into vocal, hip-hop, and performance sub-units.

S.Coups, Jeonghan, Joshua, Jun, Hoshi, Wonwoo, Woozi, Dk, Mingyu, The8, Seungkwan, Vernon, and Dino have garnered a growing and dedicated global fandom known as Carats, who closely follow their every move. For the group, their fans are a significant part of their growth.

"We're definitely more confident than before through our growth. The growth of our Carats and the amount of support that they show us just gives us so much confidence", member Joshua told GRAMMY.com in 2022.

The self-produced group has a clear philosophy: Create relevant and innovative music that resonates. They don't adhere to stereotypes or definitions, but constantly strive to evolve and explore new sonic territories. This creative and authentic approach has been an integral part of the group's enduring success.

Seventeen wrapped up 2023 with over 16 million albums sold. On April 29, they'll release 17 Is Right Here, a compilation of some of their most impactful songs. For those looking to dive into the world of Seventeen, here are five essential songs to kickstart this exciting musical journey.

"Don't Wanna Cry" (2017)

The lead single from the mini album Al1, "Don't Wanna Cry" details the struggle of dealing with pain and loss. The track delves into the complex feelings of no longer having a loved one around, while holding onto the hope that they might return.

"Don't Wanna Cry" is a striking example of the group's openness and vulnerability with their fans. The song's raw emotions are deeply personal and relatable, depicting a struggle with pain and loss.

"To You" (2021)

The lively and heartwarming track "To You," from the ninth mini album Attacca, is a beautiful reflection on love and gratitude. It's the kind of song that inspires you to throw your arms open wide, sing out loud, and feel every word with your eyes closed.

With its repeated phrase of "I always need you," the song emphasizes the comfort of having someone dependable in your life. "To You" exemplifies Seventeen's remarkable ability to seamlessly combine emotional depth with infectious dance rhythms, showcasing their talent for creating simultaneously heartfelt and energetic tracks.

"Hot" (2022)

A song to enjoy not just in the summer, but on any day of the year, "Hot" was released in 2022 as part of the album Face the Sun.

Through metaphors involving fire and the sun, the group repeatedly chants the word "Hot" reflecting a sense of confidence and the freedom to live passionately, while also encouraging listeners to express themselves boldly without fear. 

Reflecting the group's identity, "Hot" embraces themes of confidence, passion, and fearless self-expression — qualities that resonate with the group's image and message.

"Super" (2023)

An authentic anthem about unity, "Super" celebrates the power of teamwork and mutual support, as highlighted by the iconic chorus "I love my team, I love my crew." "Super" exemplifies how Seventeen functions as one cohesive group despite its numerous members, emphasizing their strong bond and collective spirit.

The song's title — a reference to Son Goku (손오공) from the famous anime "Dragon Ball" — is featured on the album FML, which in sold over 6.4 million copies in 2023 according to Pledis Entertainment, earning the title of the world's best-selling album.

"God of Music" (2023)

An anthem to the universal language of music and its remarkable ability to forge connections across continents, "God of Music," from Seventeen's 11th mini album, Seventeenth Heaven, is a track that moves you to dance from the very first beat.

The group emphasizes how music breaks down barriers, turning strangers into friends and uplifting people worldwide, regardless of language differences. In their accompanying music video, the members conclude with a heartfelt message: Music is a force that brings people together.

SEVENTEEN Performs A High-Octane Version Of "VERY NICE" | Press Play At Home

Upon first impression, Sam Beam of Iron & Wine’s got a wildly endearing trait: he laughs even when something’s not explicitly funny. Even through Zoom, the man most of us know for aching, desolate folk songs will give you a tremendous lift.

"I like to joke around and stuff with my friends," the beardy and serene Beam tells GRAMMY.com — those friends including fellow mellow 2000s favorites, like Andrew Bird and Calexico. "Honestly, it's harder to be serious than it is to joke around most of my friends."

That’s partly what spurred the four-time GRAMMY nominee to make the shimmering, whimsical Light Verse. While it follows 2023’s soundtrack to the documentary Who Can See Forever, and 2019’s Calexico collaboration Years to Born, in relatively short order, it’s still the first proper Iron & Wine album since 2017’s Beast Epic.

Getting to the space to write waggish songs like "Anyone’s Game" ("First they kiss their lucky dice and then they dig themselves a grave/ They do this until it’s killing them to try") wasn’t easy. In conversation, Beam mentions "the pandemic that put me on my ear." In press materials, he expanded on exactly how it did.

"While so many artists, fortunately, found inspiration in the chaos, I was the opposite and withered with the constant background noise of uncertainty and fear," Beam wrote. "The last thing I wanted to write about was COVID."

"And yet, every moment I sat with my pen," he continued, "it lingered around the edges and wouldn’t leave. I struggled to focus until I gave up, and this lasted for over two years."

Thankfully, a Memphis session with singer/songwriter Lori McKenna relaxed his "creative muscles" and a series of tours and collaborations loosened him up even more. Beam assembled a dream team of musicians in Laurel Canyon, and the rest is history — Light Verse is a sumptuous delight.

Read on for how it came to be — and much more.

This interview has been edited for clarity.

Light Verse is the first non-collaborative Iron & Wine album since 2017. I imagine there’s sometimes pressure to just put music out for the sake of having it out. Whatever the case, I appreciate that you put time and thought into it.

Yeah, I mean, honestly, I just like making records with other people. You can only smell your own breath so long. I enjoy putting out records, but I feel like I grow more as a musician and person by working with other people. So, I’ll probably be doing more and more of that.

I don’t feel a whole lot of pressure, one way or the other. Maybe I’m just deaf and those things are screaming at me. But I just don’t listen.

What pressures have you faced in the music industry?

Oh, there are certainly lots of pressures. One is, I should probably be on top of my social media game, but I just can't seem to engage with it. I don’t know. That's how people make their entire careers these days, but I can't find a way to sustain it.

I can't think of a way that I could, because I definitely go through days without picking up my phone at all, so I just can't. I think if I could figure out a way to make it fun, I would do it.

What do you do with the time most people spend on their screens?

Playing guitar, or I do a lot of painting. I’m not saying I never pick up my phone, but I don't think about what could I share about my breakfast to the world, I just don't think about it. I'm private.

What was the germ of the concept behind Light Verse?

I don't really usually go in with a specific idea in mind. I just like to stack the deck with people that I like to play with, or that I like what they do. And so just see what happens, throwing a bunch of ingredients that you like individually, and just seeing if it makes a soup that you like.

My idea was to go in with these folks from L.A. that I had met along the way. David Garza, I'd been wanting to play with for a long time. I'd met Tyler Chester, who plays keys, when he was playing with Andrew Bird. Griffin Goldsmith plays with Dawes.

The songs were all developed. They were a bit lighter than some of the fare that I've put out before, far as just silly rhymes. They're a little more off the cuff.

I'm kinda mining the territory of the early '70s, where the folk writers were playing with jazz musicians. It just becomes a little more orchestra, or however you want to describe it. Not quite so straightforward.

But I had these off-kilter tunes and I got an off-kilter, talented band from LA, and I was just going to see what happened. And this is what happened.

Naturally, my mind goes to Joni Mitchell playing with Herbie Hancock and Wayne Shorter. What are your touchstones?

Well, those Van records — Astral Weeks and stuff. All the stuff in that time when people started playing cluster-y chords. I love that music. It’s so expressive. Ron Carter playing with Roberta Flack, even. They’re gospel-blues sorts of tunes, but they’re also folky [in their] structures and melodies.

Are you a super technically proficient guitarist? Can you play those crazy chords?

[Grins] I wouldn’t be able to tell you what chord it was, but I might be able to get my hand in the shape. I don’t read music. I just learned to play by ear, but I like to play guitar a lot, so I end up stumbling on most stuff.

I also fool around with a lot of open tunings, so you end up with some cluster-y, bizarre stuff with that, for sure.

Even just paying attention to Brian Wilson — he’s not a guitarist, but I feel like his work can teach guitarists a lot about voice leading and stuff.

Definitely. A lot of those jazz voices have been absorbed by pop music. You can hear Bill Evans all over pop music, especially in the ‘90s.

**Can you take readers through the orchestration on Light Verse? It’s so shimmery and rich and unconventional.**

Thanks. Yeah, we were borrowing from some of those jazz ensembles we’re talking about, and also Brazilian music.

Honestly, that Gal Costa tune, "Baby" — it’s the most famous one — it’s my spirit animal for this record. Just between the strings and the way the guitars and rhythm section work — the sparse way it comes and goes.

We approached it fairly intuitively. But I do feel like Paul Cartwright, who did a lot of those strings and charts and stuff, played a huge role as far as the identity of this record. Outside of the lyrics and the forms and stuff, just the way that he interpreted in this really expressive way. His charts and stuff were really great — and a lot of it's him playing, stacking stuff on his own. He's really, really talented.

He also grew up in Bakersfield, and since the violin is strung the way a mandolin is, he rocks a mean mandolin. He had all these different bass mandocellos and all this stuff. He was just, "What are we working on now? Hand me that thing," and just did all kinds of coloring. It's great.

Can you talk about approaching your work with more whimsy and color?

I feel like for some reason, for the longest time when I sat down to write a song, it was a time to say what I mean. And so when it came time to write a song, it ended up being really somber. Some of it is acidic, but somber for the most part.

Whereas for this one, I was just looking for more balance. Maybe I'm just too old to be impressed by that stuff, so I like balance — something that can resonate on something that people recognize but also is fun at the same time. 

You can embrace both things at one time, that life is hard and also silly. And so that was the MO going into this one, and a lot of the songs that I chose to record were because they had both of those things going on at one time.

You’re a three-dimensional artist, but marketing can flatten musicians. Growing up with Iron & Wine, it tended to be packaged as "chill music for rainy days" or some such. Primary colors.

We all do that. We always try to define something. You know what I mean? You want to understand it, and by understanding, control it and define it.

All artists deal with that, for sure. It's frustrating when you want to be recognized. You want them to pay attention to other things, but it's also that we just want to be appreciated. Artists want to be appreciated for every little gesture we make, and it's not realistic. We do our best.

I feel like if you work hard, hopefully the stars will align and people will appreciate what you do.

What do you remember about the atmosphere of the music industry, back when big songs I don’t need to name came out?

You mean the vampire song and stuff?

Yeah.

It's definitely a lot different. The internet upended everything. I squeezed and slipped in the door just as the door was closing on the closed circuit of records and stuff.

It was more of a monoculture, where everyone was having the same conversation about the same groups of musicians. Now, [you can have] the entire history of recorded music at any moment of the day. It's hard to have the same conversation about things. That's been a big difference.

When you hang out and collaborate with friends like Andrew Bird, is there ever a sense of "We survived, we’re the class of 2000-whatever"?

Well, for one thing, it's hard to realize that you've been making music that long. Most bands don't even last that long. It's insane.

But it's also, I just feel really blessed. Maybe it's because I never studied music — my career feels like a fluke. I still feel blessed that people are still interested, blessed that I'm able to do this. I never thought it was in the cards, and so I just feel really lucky.

Sam Beam of Iron & Wine. Photo: Kim Black

I feel like one route to longevity is self-containment. Namely, self-production, which you’ve done forever. Where are you at with that journey?

I like autonomy. I see the musicians who are also producers in their own right, so usually I have a room full of producers and I don't end up using them. We all think everyone should get a producer credit, but I take it because I'm selfish.

But I like having the autonomy. That's why I still release on an independent record label. I like steering the boat. We're all steering around the same fog, but I don't like to have someone else to bitch about. I just bitch about myself.

It releases you from those moments where it’s like, "Sam, sales are down. We’ve got to get you in with Danger Mouse," or something.

Well, hell, man, I’d do that. But I know what you mean. The idea committees I imagine for most artists are really brutal.

Trend-wise, there’s pressure to chase trains that can lead to all music sounding the same.

The things that you're offered, really teach you a lot about what you're in it for. Or it's also after a while, your reasons for doing it change. I don't fault people for reaching for the ring, but I also feel like I was lucky in the sense that I was just doing it for fun.

And all the songs that have been popular were a surprise to me. The songs of mine that were embraced in a way were a surprise. I felt like there were others that might've been more popular or something, or I would've chosen to promote.

So, the lesson I learned is you have no idea. Just put your best into each one and see what happens because you really can't predict what's going to happen. In that sense, if you're trying to be popular or record something that sticks, you're trying to emulate something that's proven to be popular. And for me, that seemed like a recipe for disaster from the beginning.

I feel like if you wrote a really great song in the ‘90s or 2000s, it’d get heard. Not so much in 2024. You need to take it to market and bother everybody about it.

Yeah, it's a tricky thing. The internet has been wonderful as far as we have access to all kinds of stuff that we didn't have access to before, but it just also disperses all the attention. It's hard. There's a lot of great music happening right now — but like you say, you might never know.

What are you checking out lately that you’re really connecting with? Past or present.

I heard a great tune the other day by this woman named Barbara Keith, "Detroit or Buffalo," from 1972. Obviously not contemporary, but it was incredible. I'd never heard it before. I'm checking out stuff, trying to keep up. It's hard.

What do you like that would make people say, "Sam Beam likes that?"

Oh, in my case, it’s all over the place. I’m not real proprietorial with music. It’s something to experience. I’m not so much into dance music, but I like a lot of really intense electronic music. That might be surprising. Who knows?

Everything’s out there for the taking. It’s the universal buffet.

I think everyone can recognize a musical omnivore, and then not be surprised.

Anything else about Light Verse you’re raring to talk about?

We did get to sing with Fiona Apple, which was really a treat. That was unexpected, but a very welcome experience. And she turned a regular song into an incredible duet, which was really a surprise and a blessing.

What was it like working with Fiona?

I never actually met her. Because of the way technology works these days, she was in a whole other state and sent us the track. But a lot of the people that were playing and a lot of people in the room; we share band members like Sebastian Steinberg, and David Garza plays with her a lot too.

One of the reasons that I recorded there in LA with Dave Way is because they had made their last few records with Dave, and Sebastian had been in my ear about, "You got to go record Dave." And it turns out he was right. It was great. She had a lot of friends in the room, so it wasn't too hard to convince her.

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