Tim Heidecker

Tim Heidecker makes music to be understood. While the multi-hyphenate comedian and songwriter was on tour in 2022—his first time performing his own material with a full band every night—he noticed a recurring response to his lyrics among his devoted fanbase. “Especially people my age, maybe a little younger,” he recalls, “They would come up to me and say, ‘That is how I feel. And it’s nice to know you feel that way, too’”

Where his celebrated work in film and television is often an act of complex, surrealist worldbuilding, the increasingly tender and expertly crafted singer-songwriter material that Heidecker releases under his own name is built to encourage these person-to-person connections. After the breakthroughs of 2020’s wistfully lush Fear of Death, made in collaboration with Weyes Blood, and 2022’s High School, whose multidimensional tales of nostalgia were never quite as distant as they seemed, Heidecker has reached a new peak with Slipping Away, his warmest, fullest, and most ambitious record to date.

“I guess you could say all my records are concept albums to some degree,” Heidecker notes. This one, however, tells a story on a larger scale, offering an imagistic framework that allows for some of his brightest melodies, heaviest themes, and most direct and vulnerable lyrics. “There’s a feeling of before the fall and after,” he explains of the album’s two-part arc. “Things are going well… until they’re not. I wanted to write some stories about that experience.”

Working with his seasoned touring band, Heidecker wrote a series of songs that tap into universal anxieties, familiar settings, and, occasionally, a blast of apocalyptic unease. If he were to perform them solo acoustic, they might sound like folk songs, with their instantly hummable melodies, singalong choruses, and unexpected ability to zoom out far beyond their initial premises. On Slipping Away, a father-daughter trip to a ballgame might spiral into a reflection on the random lottery of fame; a walk into town can induce a nightmarish vision of a world without people and the lifelong struggle between man and society. Even the simple act of making music, as portrayed in the cleverly constructed writer’s block anthem “Well’s Running Dry,” can lead to an earnest reflection on insecurity and aging. “As soon as I wrote that, I worried that it’s not cool to talk about,” Heidecker says. “But a second later, I thought—well that’s challenging and exciting. Let’s push past that.”

Part of the excitement comes from the electrified, lived-in sound of Heidecker’s band: Eliana Athayde on bass and vocals; Josh Adams on drums; Vic Berger on keys; and Connor “Catfish” Gallaher on guitar and pedal steel. While the songs consistently deal with crises of confidence and community, Heidecker refers to Slipping Away as a true group project, a euphoric experience that helped turn his songs into living, breathing things. “My favorite records are the ones that were just recorded in a room with a band playing,” he says, citing classic-rock landmarks from Bob Dylan, The Beatles, and The Band. “And that’s what we did.”

Accordingly, most of the tracks were captured in their first takes; overdubs were sparse and selective; guest appearances were chosen specifically to suit the material. Foxygen’s Jonathan Rado, a frequent collaborator of Heidecker’s, adds some organ to the nervy new wave of “Bows and Arrows”; the moving, waltz-time “Something Somewhere” culminates in a spooky sample of Tracy Newman singing “Last Night I Had the Strangest Dream.” Most notably, Tim’s daughter Amelia sings a sweet coda to round out the closing “Bells Are Ringing,” concluding the album with what Heidecker calls “a little bit of optimism.”

Heidecker describes working with the band on Slipping Away as a personal breakthrough in his career. “Having been doing quote-unquote ‘entertainment’ for 20 years now in different forms, it was a revitalizing experience to be out of my comfort zone a little bit. It was a learning opportunity.” Across the record, Heidecker and Athayde, who became a sounding board for many of the initial ideas and is credited with additional production, often take the roles of duet partners. Occasionally they assume a Gram-and-Emmylou dynamic with her quavering, empathetic harmony in ballads like “Hey, Would You Call My Mom for Me?.” Elsewhere, in the rollicking, Stonesy story-song “Like I Do,” the band responds to every twist in Heidecker’s narrative with just the right crackling energy. The record is crafted like a killer live set, building in emotional impact and intensity, reflecting a wide array of moods without ever losing its momentum.

After working with indie luminaries like Mac DeMarco, Weyes Blood, and Father John Misty, Heidecker is in a rarefied field of artists who refuse to grow complacent, and creative leaps like Slipping Away exemplify his devotion to the craft. Quoting one of his heroes Paul McCartney, Heidecker ascribes to the idea that “work begets inspiration” and each new project helps lead to the one just beyond it. “People ask me a lot about the difference between making music and comedy,” he says. “I finally got to a point where I was like, ‘Let’s stop thinking about these things as genres.’ It comes out in different formats but hopefully it all becomes one big thing that I’m making. I think it’s fairly united.” This embracing creative philosophy is encapsulated by the massively catchy “Dad of the Year,” where Heidecker observes shifting trends in culture and his own changing ambitions, weighing his childhood expectations against the reality he faces as a father approaching 50. “The only award that I’m gonna see is from my family,” he sings, “and that should be enough for me.” He sounds happy with what he has, but anyone paying attention will know that Heidecker always has his eyes on the next horizon.