I’ve been a fan of The Chairman Dances for a few years now. I’m pretty sure it was my friend Monica D’Antonio who told me about them, since her friend Mike Szekely is the band’s drummer. Then again, it’s entirely possible that it was their music that first caught my attention and our mutual friendship with Monica was just a coincidence. Whatever the case, I’m a huge fan of both their musicianship and lyricism, both of which push the boundaries of indie rock and popular music more broadly, resulting in songs and albums that are both technically masterful and a joy to listen to.

I love the name of your band. I’m reminded a little bit of other Philly bands like Love, said the Commander and All the Living and the Dead—which I’ve learned are references to The Handmaid’s Tale and Dubliners respectively.  Is “The Chairman Dances” a reference to anything?

Those are good band names! I’ll seek out the groups’ music.

The Chairman Dances is an orchestral work by John Adams. It was written for the excellent opera Nixon in China, though, ultimately, not included. 

I’m tempted to say that there’s something cinematic about your music, but the more I think about it, the more I’m inclined to describe it as literary. Hence, perhaps, the association I’m making between The Chairman Dances and the other two bands. At the very least, there’s a strong element of storytelling not only in individual songs but in the context of each album as well. How do you see storytelling fitting into your approach to making music?

Well, I love narrative. I loves stories. In my opinion, narrative is a part of songwriting, whether a songwriter identifies their lyrics as a story or not. You can’t get away from context, from a listener hearing a word or sentence after another and considering the latter in light of the former, or vice versa. The same goes for tracks on an album. I think it’s good for songwriters to spend time thinking about the stories their songs and albums tell.

Your music is incredibly original. I had an English professor years ago who said that when a writer tells a story, they’re not just telling a story but also making a point about how that story should be told. Are you saying anything with your own music maybe not about what music should do exactly but about what it can do?

First, thank you. I’d say that all art-making is, in some sense, an experiment wherein you test how something nascent can become, and in doing that, you might stretch the bounds of the medium or tradition. 

How did the band come together?

I asked my friends to play music with me. I’m fortunate that everyone in the original line up is still active in the band in some way–except for Mike Guiliana, who lives in Hawaii. I miss Mike.

Who’s in it, and what keeps you together?

Dan Comly, Ashley Hartman, Ben Rosen, Mike Szekely and myself. We’re sometimes joined by others when making albums: Dan Wisniewski, Luke Pigott, my neighbor Mike “Slo Mo” Brenner, etc. The band has a deep bench. Additionally, there are a number of other very fine musicians (Dan Finn, Kevin Walker, Will Schwarz, et al.) who aren’t in the band currently but have given a lot of themselves to the group and are a part of its story. 

I continue to make music because life would be somewhat diminished if I didn’t. I think that’s why we all do it. 

Your Bandcamp bio describes the band as mystics. What makes you mystical—either in musical terms or just in your day-to-day lives?

I did not spend much time thinking about that description! My thought process might have been: I’m enamored with metaphysics/theology. I enjoy Van Morrison and his peers, often described as mystics. And the Bandcamp bio needs to be concise; “mystics” is seven characters. 

And your latest single, “Be Thou My Vision,” is a traditional Irish song with strong religious overtones. What was behind the decision to record that one?

I thought it might be nice to include the hymn on our album Evening Song. In the end, it made more sense to release it on its own. 

Before we recorded it, I performed a version at my friend Stuart’s ordination. Stuart provided the cover art for the single.

Increasingly, I enjoy performing in churches, the one I attend and others when I’m asked. I still think about a funeral service I sang and played at a decade ago. The woman who died was maybe thirty. The reflections from her parents were moving and wise, and they appreciated the music. 

Before that, your previous release was the album Evening Song. The liner notes for that one say that the album started as a poem. How did it evolve from poem to album, and how did the band’s involvement shape that transfiguration? What’s the band’s approach to writing and recording music more broadly? 

I wanted the next The Chairman Dances album to have a more-or-less contiguous narrative, where one song would pick up, lyrically, where the last ended. My narrative poem allowed for that. Working from a large amount of text (10-12 pages), I marked out potential songs units, for example, lines 1-14 could be one song; lines 15-40 another. I had never made an album in that way.

Generally, our workflow is: I bring the band songs and the members write their parts; they have free reign to do what they like. Sometimes we’ll give each other suggestions, usually through encouragement when we hear something we like: do that!

Once we have arrangements, the band records together: bass, drums, guitar, and keyboards are tracked at the same time. We then record overdubs, when they’re warranted.

What’s on the horizon for you?

The band played locally this spring and I hope will continue to do so into the summer. Come September, I’ll head to Ohio to play Steubenville’s First Friday (9/5). Music aside, I’m hoping to find a home for poems I’ve written. And, as I have a toddler son at home, I’ll probably continue to spend my nights and weekends at city playgrounds. 

Thanks for taking the time to answer my questions!

Thank you for asking them!