On a West Coast tour in April 2015, the members of Canyon Spells were driving from San Francisco to L.A. when an SUV unhitched from a car carrier on the opposite side of the freeway, launched across the median, and smashed head-on into the car beside them. While the Nashville-based band emerged unscathed, the narrow escape shook them up, and deeply impacted the making of their debut album Now That We’re Gone. “The whole experience really reminded me how important it is to be brave in what we’re doing,” says Canyon Spells frontman Jimmie Linville, whose bandmates include Daniel Pingrey and Michaela Thomas. “The accident gave us permission, in a way. It reminded us that we might not ever get another chance.”
Rattled but emboldened by their brush with disaster, Canyon Spells began tracking Now That We’re Gone within days. Working with producer Brian Deck (Modest Mouse, Iron and Wine, Josh Ritter), the band holed up in a Chicago studio for two weeks and channeled their new sense of urgency into creating a grittier and more dynamic sound than they’d ever explored before. The result: a gracefully complex yet melody-minded album that matches its prescient songs with the raw energy the band’s live shows are known for.
Throughout Now That We’re Gone, Canyon Spells wrestle with themes of dissociation and divide that feel both timeless and current. “A lot of the album is poking at the culture of our generation and this constant barrage of social media that most people seem to have just accepted,” says Linville, 29, adding: “It affects everything: love, relationships, hopes, dreams… and the music explores that, but with a chip on its shoulder."
Right from the snarling guitar intro of opening track “Fat Stacks,” Now That We’re Gone announces itself as an album built on tension and primed for transcendence. With its harmonized guitar solos and soaring vocals, “Fat Stacks” brings on a powerful rush that brilliantly clashes with its tongue-in-cheek take on art and commerce in the modern age (“There’ll come a day/When my rent will get paid/And I can be only with you/Staring at screens”). From there, Now That We’re Gone melts into the bright melodies and breezy psychedelia of “Magic,” a deceptively whimsical number whose chorus nods to William S. Burroughs and the tragic shooting of his wife in Mexico City.
At the heart of Now That We’re Gone is a batch of songs looking at love and its many dimensions. A bittersweet meditation on memory and nostalgia, “Innocence” reflects on young love in the context of doubt. Though it was originally written as a downtempo ballad, Linville points out, Deck helped morph the song into a guitar-powered epic. On the dusky yet shimmering “Dark Matter,” Thomas takes the lead, and with her wistful vocals paints a candid picture of depression. And on tracks like “Forever,” with its cascading guitar and sharply detailed lyrics (“Caught you when you’re crying/Everybody trying on your dress”), Canyon Spells capture the tiniest of moments and turn them into songs both intimate and sprawling.
Closing out Now That We’re Gone, “I Can Change” unfolds as the album's thesis: a kaleidoscopic, harmony-driven anthem that’s equal parts unsettling and forward-looking. "I Can Change" offers a bleak glimpse at the broken present (“Every night/All my life/Me and mine/In our cell phone light”) and a hopeful dream of tomorrow (“But I can see the future/Children laughing at us/Wildly singing out”). “I had this image of lying in bed with someone, and you’re both just staring at your cell phones,” says Linville. “It feels like, ‘What are we doing? What have we gotten ourselves into?’”
An album full of unexpected turns—the pairing of blistering guitar work and ethereal harmonies on “Safe Here,” the perspective-warping vocal trade-off between Linville and Thomas on “Good Reason”—Now That We’re Gone was born from the band’s courage to risk departure from their folky roots. Friends since high school, Linville and Pingrey began making music together in college, and toured for years before moving to Nashville and bringing Thomas into the fold. “I heard Michaela sing and thought her voice was beautiful,” recalls Linville. “It was months before I heard our voices together, though. That was a rare kind of vocal chemistry—I knew right away we had something special.” The band soon found a fan in Counting Crows frontman Adam Duritz, who took them out as an opening act for a summer 2014 tour. By the end of the year, the band had landed their deal with MRI Entertainment and set to work on Now That We’re Gone.
Canyon Spells regard Now That We’re Gone as a mark of their commitment to a certain frankness in songwriting. “These songs don’t try to teach you, or tell you what to do,” Linville says. “They’re putting it down there on the floor, spreading it out, and saying ‘This is how it is. This is the truth. Do with it what you will.’” But with their revitalized sound and newfound boldness of spirit, Canyon Spells have created a collection of songs that’s wholly life-affirming, if at times cynical. “We’re a band of outsiders, and we make music for outsiders,” says Linville. “And even when it’s dark, our fans find hope in our music. They’ve felt this way or had a similar experience even though—as outsiders—you often feel alone. That’s the power of music. That’s the reason I love it.”