The Whimbrels’ founder, Arad Evans, describes the band’s avian namesake as “recognizable and yet bizarre.” The same could be said of their music, which combines dense, polyrhythmic arrangements and non-standard tunings with strong hooks and melodic elements. The Whimbrels recently released their self-titled debut album on Dromedary Records.
A long-time member of the Glenn Branca Ensemble, Evans began shaping the project before the pandemic, drawing on collaborations with longtime friends and fellow sonic explorers. After a pause during lockdown, the band re-emerged with a new lineup that includes Swans’ Norman Westberg, Branca Ensemble alum Luke Schwartz, and Matt Hunter of New Radiant Storm King and Dusty Fates, with drummer Steve DiBenedetto rounding out the group. Libby Fab of Paranoid Critical Revolution plays drums on the track “That’s How It Was.”
Over a Zoom interview, Evans discussed the evolution of The Whimbrels and the making of the album.
All the members of The Whimbrels are accomplished musicians who have been involved with many projects. How did this collaboration come about?
Arad Evans: Well, it’s really a mix of old friends—and some new ones—but mostly old friends I knew to call, and thankfully, they said yes. The Whimbrels had a short pre-pandemic iteration that included some people I’d played with in a prior band called Heroes of Toolik. Ernie Brooks, who was notable for being in the Modern Lovers, and Robert Poss from Band of Susans were part of that version. Matt Hunter also played with us briefly. I know Matt through our mutual acquaintance Wharton Tiers, a noted record producer who goes all the way back to the early no wave days with Glenn Branca and Barbara Ess.
Then the pandemic hit and shut everything down. When we emerged, I still had ideas bouncing around in my head, so I started putting things back together. By that point, Robert had moved to Boston and Ernie had other projects. Matt was available, which was a stroke of luck—he brings a kind of beat-forward indie rock essence to his bass playing that really suits this project. That energy helps keep things from being too dour, especially given that it’s a band with avant-garde, new-music-type guitar players. I’ve known various members of Swans over the years, and through those connections I had crossed paths with Norman [Westberg] a few times. I actually auditioned for Swans way back in the day. So when we needed someone to step into the role that Robert had occupied, I crossed my fingers and asked Norman—and he said yes. That was another lucky break.
Luke [Schwartz] is another bandmate from the Branca Ensemble. I was one of the earliest members, joining in the mid-’80s, and Luke was one of the last hires. We spent time on the road together, and he’s a consummate musician—a true shredder. And that’s how the personnel came together.
As for the sound and the vision, I had in mind a three-guitar front from the beginning. I had these guitar choir ideas with rhythmic and melodic counterpoint that really needed three strong players to pull off, all layered over a wash of distortion. But as the project evolved, the band members started bringing in their own ideas. Matt, for example, contributed two pieces to the record—big contributions that are really helping shape and move the sound forward. Whether or not there’s a clearly cohesive “Whimbrels sound” is up for debate—I hear a thread, others might not—but it’s definitely evolving thanks to everyone’s input. That’s how it all came together.
In terms of the material on the album, to what extent does any of it date back to the original incarnation of the band?
Arad Evans: I think we had the song “Scream For Me.” I actually first wrote that one in college, so it’s probably about 40 years old. It’s been played in various bands over the years, and it’s one of the few songs I’ve written that have been performed by bands I wasn’t in—which I’m very proud of.
“She Is the Leader” is another one. That’s the lead-off track on the record, and it was originally written for the first iteration of The Whimbrels. We put it on the shelf during the pandemic but brought it back out once we got going again.
What do you feel the various members bring to the project?
Arad Evans: Well, there are definite roles for each person—almost like a little baseball team or something. I’d say that’s been consistent both pre- and post-pandemic. I should note that pre-pandemic, we played a few gigs but didn’t record anything. It was really a proto-version of The Whimbrels. I do most of the writing and tend to take the lead when it comes to the rhythmic hooks—kind of setting the stamp for what the song is going to sound like.
Luke, by virtue of being very skilled and a trained musician, can realize basically anything I throw at him—whether it’s a different melody or a contrasting one. I might say, “Can you double this melody, but a third above?” and boom—he’s got it. There’s no hunting around for chords, no sweat at all. He also has this rare ability—not just to play the notes, but to make it sound like I’m playing them. He really captures the feel I’m going for. And where it’s called for, he can also create something entirely his own that’s equally great.
Norman is also a very versatile and facile player, but what he really brings are these soaring, distorted rock solos that are prominent on the record. They’re incredibly inventive—not really based on conventional notes or harmonies, but on these amazing sonorities he gets out of the instrument. That’s why we’re lucky to have him in the band.
What was the overall timeframe for making the album?
Arad Evans: The timeframe was slow—a little bit frustrating, honestly. We got together in early ’24, I think it was, with the goal of simply getting something down. We’d been playing some gigs and getting great feedback—warm, enthusiastic responses from New York audiences—and we just felt like we needed to capture that. With a project like this, you can’t sit around. Especially with non-commercial bands like ours, things can just vanish when life circumstances change. So we wanted to memorialize what we had.
We all crammed into this tiny one-room studio and tracked the bulk of what you hear. And it came out much better than I expected. Then we talked to Al Crisafulli at Dromedary Records and asked if he’d be interested in putting it out. He said, “Love to,” which was all I needed to hear—but he added, “You’re going to have to wait.” We had to get in line because he had other releases scheduled.
So we waited and took the time to polish. There are a couple of overdubs, some tweaks here and there, but it’s essentially a live record. I think “That’s How It Was” was recorded separately after that main session, but everything else was done in that burst of studio time—followed by a long stretch of hurry-up-and-wait. Not unusual when you’re putting a record out.
It’s quite a varied album. You mentioned there’s a thread that connects everything—though maybe not everyone hears it. What do you see that thread as being?
Arad Evans: For me, it’s the interplay between the three guitars. That’s a key part of the sound. Whether by design or luck, the guitar voices are complementary—they feed off each other. I’m more of a note-oriented player. I tend to play lines, riffs, hooks, that kind of thing. Norman, by contrast, is more of an atmosphere player. He brings this big wash—or wall, depending on your metaphor—of sound that fills out the entire composition. So there’s this kind of constant conversation between those approaches.
Rhythmically, I think what we’re doing is also unusual. There’s a track in 7/8. Some songs have a strong beat, but you can’t pin down the meter—they’re not in 4/4 or 3/4 or really anything traditional. They just go bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang—and somehow it works.
I think it’s also interesting that both Matt’s songs and mine on the record have this shifting feeling—where one part seems to move against another and ends up revealing different chords or rhythms. One part might be just slightly faster and phase against the other, and through that tension, more content emerges than if it had just been static.
Part of the mission with this project is to make music that satisfies that need to do things that excite us intellectually. I was going to avoid using that word, but that’s what it is. We want to create music that reflects where we live musically, which is pretty far out on the avant-garde side. But at the same time, it has to rock. It has to be fun. We want people to come away with a smile on their face—because we’re smiling when we play it. So yeah, there are some bangers on the record. “Scream For Me” is one, and “Four Moons of Galileo” has moments that are almost slightly funky. These are things we realize after the fact, but the point is that it’s meant to be joyful and loud and rocking—even if we’re pushing into the avant-garde. At the end of the day, it’s a rock band. A loud, hard rock band.
What do you see the role of vocals being in your music, and where do they fit into the creative process?
Arad Evans: Speaking only for myself, I sing because I feel like the song needs a vocal. I sing because I have words—words with a certain meaning or feeling—that seem to go with the music. I don’t see myself as any kind of great vocal technician. What I do work hard on is extracting the rhythmic value you can get out of a vocal, which I think is actually pretty underrated. If it’s done right, the vocal can function almost like a rhythm instrument and help drive the song forward.
I was thinking in terms of the uniqueness of some of the instrumental structures—and how the vocals seem to play a different role from track to track.
Arad Evans: Yeah, sometimes I think vocals can—and should—play with that exact variable. There are times when it’s effective for the vocal to stand apart from the music a bit. It becomes more like poetry being recited over the top of the music rather than something tightly interwoven with it. I’m not saying it’s great poetry, but that’s the idea—it’s recited in parallel with the music rather than directly connected to it.
Other times, especially because of the rhythmic element I mentioned, the vocal is very much integrated into the song. Those choices are deliberate. We think about what each piece needs and what role the vocal should play in shaping the overall feel.
The last track on the album, “Four Moons of Galileo,” is really interesting. Could you talk about that?
Arad Evans: I’m really glad you brought that one up—I’m extremely proud of it. It’s a long instrumental, structured in four movements. The title refers to the four moons that Galileo was able to see through his telescope. But the point of the title is that, of course, there were many more moons he couldn’t see. So it suggests there’s more behind the music than what you can actually hear—more layers and possibilities implied beneath the surface.
There are four short sections. The beginning and the end are these kind of descending curtains played on one-note guitars. By that, I mean guitars where every string is tuned to the same note—so we might have one guitar with all E’s, or another with all B’s. Those parts are semi-improvised. There’s a scale that moves down the neck, and each player moves when they choose. If they like the resulting chord, they can pause; if not—whether it’s too sweet or too dissonant—they can move again. The only rule is once you move down, you can’t go back up. Eventually, we all end up at the bottom of the neck, at a drone B.
The two middle sections are built around rhythmic grooves. In the first, Norman takes a solo, and in the second, I take one. They’re very characteristic of our individual styles. Mine develops more melodically from a small fragment, while Norman’s just brings the house. He’s got this big, fat sound coming at you—it’s a gorgeous, soaring, distorted rock solo.
Then we close with a reprise of the descending guitar choir. I should also mention there’s a great video this track by videographer Kevin Bud Jones. It looks fabulous and really captures a lot of what the song is about.
What made you choose the name The Whimbrels for this project?
Arad Evans: Well, good question. A lot of my band names are a little bit daft—and I think part of what that means is that I have a hard time picking band names. But the Whimbrels—it’s a bizarre-looking bird. Definitely a bird. It’s not like a scary hawk or some aggressive raptor. It’s just this odd little bird with a curved beak and a lot of personality.
I liked that as an emblem for this band because we’re working within song forms—we’re singing songs—and they’re meant to be fun. They’re meant to rock, or to be pretty at times, or have musical emotional content. They’re supposed to be recognizable as songs… but also a little weird. That’s a whimbrel for you: recognizable, yet bizarre. That’s why I like the name. Some of that meaning may have come after the fact—me projecting things onto the choice—but even if that’s true, it’s growing on me.
Is there anything else you’d like to add?
Arad Evans: Just that I think we’re all kind of thrilled—and maybe a little surprised—that this project has come together so painlessly. We have fun doing it. It sounded good right off the bat. Matt told me he was a little reluctant to get involved in yet another band—he plays with practically everybody—but after the first rehearsal, he said it sounded so good that he figured, well, he was in another band. There was nothing else to be done about it.
People are responding to it, and it’s scratching that itch I have—to be able to communicate with an audience. So far, so good. It’s been going great.
The Whimbrels can be purchased from dromedaryrecords.bandcamp.com/album/the-whimbrels. For more info on the band, visit thewhimbrels.com.
