For All Them Witches, the record is just the beginning

How open space allows the Nashville group’s songs room to grow

Pop music isn’t a subject that’s typically broached with a band whose live shows are as improv-heavy and gimmick-free as Nashville’s psych rock foursome All Them Witches. “There is something to be said about a really well-done pop song,” says All Them Witches’ singer and bass player Michael Parks Jr.

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His words make sense in a certain context: Parks has spent the better part of this afternoon’s conversation talking about musical triumphs that aren’t obvious, from mistakes that permanently made their way into songs to record store bargain bin finds that made their way into his permanent rotation. “I look for the least amount of instrumentation — one person and one instrument — or maybe two people. The less the better, because it gets down into what somebody’s trying to say,” Parks says of buying records blindly, and how that affects All Them Witches. “That shows in a lot of the songs, where we leave space.”

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Spaciousness is simulated in the group’s latest album, Dying Surfer Meets His Maker, via extended instrumental interludes and a drawn-out tempo. It allows the band’s four members to infuse each performance — be it for an audience or a recording — with a unique piece of where they are at that moment.

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All Them Witches’ lineup includes Parks performing alongside guitarist Ben McLeod, drummer Robby Staebler, and keyboard player Allan Van Cleave. The group began with Staebler and McLeod dabbling in experimental jazz and instrumental music, and despite growing in members and scope, the group has remained loyal to its improvisational roots. “Lyrics can be a crutch,” Parks says. “It doesn’t matter if you have a good voice or you’re the best songwriter in the world. If you don’t leave space for the actual music, then it’s taking something away from the song.”

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The band’s sound has been inspired vastly by international music. Lately, German krautrock godfathers Can and its propensity for creating an atmosphere by drawing out long sustained moments in rhythm has left a mark on songs such as “El Centro” and “Talisman.” But the group’s own sense of geography remains just as influential in “Open Passageways.”

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“Just the act of getting out of wherever you live is very important,” Parks says. “Music pulls a lot from location. How we’re feeling at the time and where we are, I feel like it’s really tangible in the music. If something sounds cluttered, it was probably written in a city, and if it sounds open, it means we were probably a little more at peace.”

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Dying Surfer Meets His Maker, the band’s third full-length and first via New West Records, was recorded in a cabin in Pigeon Forge, Tenn. Peaceful may not be the first word that comes to mind — the album has as many noise-drenched climaxes as it does softer, subdued measures — but the space the group allowed in the recording process fostered an intense focus. “It was great because you couldn’t leave,” Parks says. “You were stuck in the process. You couldn’t go home and get it out of your head, so being stuck on the mountainside was just as important as being anywhere else.”

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Parks says he wants to make records for the full-album listener, with the emphasis on the cohesive full-length rather than any one single. But his reverence for studio work has its limits. “The recordings are really just the early forms of what the songs turn out to be,” Parks says of All Them Witches’ catalog. “They’re all growing. You can see that through the live show. You can see them getting better and better and different.”

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The group’s constant touring schedule, coupled with frequent live recordings, gives weight to the idea that the studio is just a jumping-off point.

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“Being a band our size doesn’t afford you a lot of luxuries,” he says. “We’re playing bigger and bigger tours, but on a personal basis we’re still sleeping in the van. You have to want to get on stage every night, like I do, because you’re in the van for 16 hours and you have four or five hours of doing nothing and then a 40-minute set — you have to make that count or else you just wasted your whole day.”

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As opening gigs turn into headlining tours, it’s increasingly clear that for all their psychedelic reputation, All Them Witches don’t have a lot of wasted days. Maintaining a constant state of motion, on the map or in the music, only proves that the most important location is the one they occupy between the opening notes and the final echo of every show.