Water From Your Eyes
Marbled Eye
This event is all ages.
All doors & show times subject to change.
It’s A Beautiful Place opens with zero-gravity instrumental ‘One Small Step’ – a fitting prelude for what is one giant leap for New York duo Water From Your Eyes. The album is a gleaming megalopolis, a satellite view of eras and musical forms, a reframing of the y2k songbook that is at once awe-struck and mindful of its place in the vastness. Short instrumental interludes serve as portals between towering, muscular songs. “It ended up being about time, dinosaurs and space,” says Nate Amos . “We wanted to present a wide range of styles in a way that acknowledges everything’s just a tiny blip.”
In the time since 2023’s Everyone’s Crushed, their Matador debut and critical breakout – which appeared in end of year lists by The New York Times, The Guardian, Pitchfork, NME, Vogue, Wired and Rolling Stone – Rachel Brown and Nate Amos have become a pillar of the city’s alternative music scene and one of its most revered underground exports. Live, they’ve expanded to a quartet, joining forces with guitarist Al Nardo and drummer Bailey Wollowitz of NYC duo Fantasy of a Broken Heart. They played huge stages supporting Interpol on tour, including in front of 160,000 fans in Mexico City. Back home, the band established a DIY boat show franchise on the East River, hosting friends at the heart of the city’s musical vanguard including YHWH Nailgun, Model/Actriz, Frost Children, and Kassie Krut. Brown released a new EP under their thanks for coming moniker, while Amos released an acclaimed full length under his This Is Lorelei solo project.
The duo recorded the bulk of It’s a Beautiful Place last summer, just as they have every other WFYE release: in Amos’s bedroom, under the watchful eye of a tattered Robin Williams poster from the Mork & Mindy era. “Basically,” jokes Amos, “Robin is like a silent member of Water From Your Eyes.” But this time, much of the writing and recording were shaped around the dynamics of a full-blooded live group: “When you’re playing with a band you tend to write with one in mind – this was the first time I wrote anything for WFYE imagining us playing anywhere bigger than a basement”, he observes.
True to this, ‘Life Signs’ awakens to existence with a nu-metal backbeat and a rhythmic vocal deadpan that wouldn’t be out of place in a 1997 MTV sequence nestled between Bran Van 3000 and Cake. It then takes a hard pivot into a signature WFYE chorus – cascading and celestial. ‘Nights In Armor’ is introduced with a whirlwind of Frusciante Stratocaster bliss leading into a vulnerable Brown soliloquy.
‘Born 2’ is a worldbuilding guitar onslaught, its lyrics channeling a preoccupation with sci-fi literature and political theory as Brown’s voice glides overhead: “the world is so common / and born to become / something else”. “I’ve been carrying around The Dispossessed (a 1974 anarchist utopian novel by Ursula K. Le Guin) and There Is No Unhappy Revolution (a 2017 non-fiction by Marcello Tarì) in my backpack for well over a year now,” Brown says. “They have been to four different continents and across almost every state line. While writing lyrics for the album, I skimmed both books quite thoroughly.”
Side A closes with instrumental interlude ‘You Don’t Believe In God?’. Both members come from a church-going upbringing, Brown having been raised Catholic and Amos Episcopalian. “I wanted to be a priest when I was little,” Brown recalls, “before I learned that you had to be born into a different kind of body to get to be the one who directly talks to God. It was there that they began to lose me, although I have retained some belief in something like God.” Amos adds: “Part of this record is about slowly becoming scared of god again after completely rejecting religion”.
‘Playing Classics’ is a 6-minute four-on-the-floor epic, its otherworldly piano motif straddling the uncanny valley where much of WFYE’s sonic world resides. The deceptively straightforward folk-rock of ‘Blood On The Dollar’ finds Brown’s vocals at their most unmediated and emotive, while Amos’ guitar solo delivers the albums’ soulful country rock zenith.
Throughout It’s A Beautiful Place is a clear sense of a band who have honed their curveballs into home runs. Looming and melancholy, wide-eyed and petrified, it’s Blade Runner with a touch of WALL-E, it’s Kubrick and Asimov with a hint of Jay and Silent Bob. These are songs that look outward, conscious of our smallness and questioning our place in the universe while admiring the surrounding beauty.
“A song can feel like everything, communicating vast emotional landscapes,” says Amos, “but your favourite album is less important than any person. That person is less interesting than any dinosaur. That dinosaur is less important than any mountain. That mountain is boring compared to any planet. That planet is only a part of a solar system. That solar system is microscopic next to any galaxy. If music and all other human practices are meaningless on a cosmic scale why does it still feel so important?”
When Jack Nugent, Connor Reeves, Shane & Hayden Barton, Davis Stewart, and Noah Kurtz started making music together as Dutch Interior, the lifelong friends living between houses in Los Angeles and Long Beach had been in and out of each other’s lives for the better part of two decades. The best relationships come easy, and the band is the product of a creative union brought on by already-established trust and familiar insularity. Beginning as a fluid experiment of songs born in the moment, initial recordings Kindergarten and Blinded By Fame trace an uncanny and distinctive world of their own design. You can begin to pick up the separate stylings and personalities of the band members by the songs they independently write before bringing to the band at large, where the tracks often grow into new forms all together. Despite this individual approach to songwriting, they describe each other as “branches of the same core life” whose colliding influences and experience all bleed into the songs.
Describing Sandcastle Molds as a “fucked up Fleetwood Mac song,” Nugent elucidates that “this song grew from the realization, while driving down the 405 after a long night, that I might be losing my edge. Sandcastle Molds deals with holding on to your sense of self as the world descends into madness at a nauseating pace. How does one hold on to hope when the state of all things seems to be in rapid decay?” The band’s music has always been filled with both introspective yearning and outsized emotion and ambition, and the new single refines the band’s genre-less rock music with an undercurrent of compelling melody.
All of Dutch Interior are internalized romantics, enraptured with fragmented moments that appear almost slapdash in their lyrics as well as the naive belief in human connection as the only way to save ourselves. It’s this stark romanticism that makes the music of the band expand outside the confines of the spaces they dwell into something more universally compelling, a manifestation of hope and faith that, together, they can create something bigger than themselves. With influences spanning from ambient to southern rock to jazz to dance music, the band shapeshifts and oscillates between alternative country, sharply hewn indie rock and hints of dissonant ambience, all while still sounding like a band who both speak their own private language and translate it into something universal.