From the comfort of his home on Aotearoa’s South Island, Marlon Williams looks refreshed for someone who has recently returned from a bout of international touring and completing a movie shoot, all the while preparing for the release of a new album.
“There’s a few learning curves going on,” he admits. “It’s quite hard jumping from TV land to flying out to Europe the next day and putting on my music hat, then doing the same thing again at the other end. It’s good [though], I’ve learned lessons!”
We’re mere weeks out from the release of Williams’ third studio album, My Boy, when we speak. Although promoting new music is something Williams is familiar with, this record in particular feels like new territory because in a lot of ways, it is.
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The album emphasises the chameleonic and playful nature of Williams’ songwriting that has been present throughout his catalogue. Yet with My Boy, this nature is pushed to prominence in a way that positions Williams beneath what is perhaps the most revealing of creative spotlights yet.
To properly enjoy the album is to let yourself become completely wrapped up in its lofty and escapist nature. Early singles such as ‘My Boy’, ‘Thinking Of Nina’; as well as more recent drops ‘River Rival’ and ‘Easy Does It’ demonstrate Williams’ dynamism as a songwriter, ratcheting up some notches and offering the listener an intriguing insight into the writer he has become in the time he’s been away.
Reflecting on the process of creating an album such as this against a backdrop of a national lockdown, a global pandemic, and the stripping away of the normalcy of life as he’d become used to, Williams explains that My Boy – though definitely a swerve in sonic direction – had fewer surprises in store during its actual creation: “Listening back to it, there are things that do stick out to me but when you’re in the moment and in the flow of things, nothing shocks you because you’re feeling your way through it as you go to branch out.”
Recorded in Auckland at Neil Finn’s Roundhouse Studios in late 2020, Williams took the concept of ‘branching out’ literally, completely overturning his usual environment in favour of a new lineup of studio musicians to bring his ideas to life. Though Williams and his band – The Yarra Benders – will tour My Boy together through the final months of 2022 before select Australian appearances in the summer, Williams felt it necessary to break out of the artistic mould he had curated for himself across six years of releases and relentless touring.
So for My Boy, he called on the talents of drummer Paul Taylor (Feist), bassist Cass Michell (Ladyhawke, Tiny Ruins), Tom Healy (Tiny Ruins, The Chills); as well as frequent collaborator Delaney Davidson, Elroy Finn and the only other Aotearoa-based Yarra Bender, Dave Khan, to flesh the music out.
“It was a weird and hard thing, to go away from using The Yarra Benders, but that was kind of the point,” Williams admits. “I needed to be the new kid at school again and be able to be openly contradictory of my past self in some way, in some hopes of self-escape or escape of a world that myself and the Benders had created.
“It was difficult then having to work out new dynamics in the studio. I at least knew all of the people who were coming into play, whether or not I’d ever worked with them.”
Considering the huge success of his sophomore album Make Way For Love in 2018 and the trajectory Williams’ career took in the year that would follow, it’s unsurprising that he might want to take a beat when it came to his next musical chapter.
Since the release of Make Way For Love, Williams’ profile became solidified internationally, largely thanks to his flourishing acting career with performances in Bradley Cooper’s A Star Is Born, Justin Kurzel’s True History Of The Kelly Gang and Netflix fantasy drama Sweet Tooth, establishing Williams as not just a charismatic musician with intrigue; but an emerging artistic multi-threat.
Remaining in Aotearoa throughout the onset of the pandemic – while stifling in many ways – did bring its benefits for Williams and ultimately, the process spurring on this new album. A significant part of this process has seen Williams delve back into his cultural studies, strengthening his grasp on te reo Māori and eventually, bringing the language further into his music. In weaving the traditional and contemporary with his art, and taking the language of his ancestors with him into his life.
Williams knows he’s locked something special within himself. “One of the best parts about all of this has been being at home and being able to connect – it’s an increasingly humbling experience,” he says of his te reo Māori journey.
“The more you know, the more ignorant you are; it’s a beautiful thing too. I’m enjoying the mistakes and the way I’m learning things along the way. I’m excited for the rest of my musical life, to have this increasingly feed into my existence.”
“I’m reading this essay at the moment about the frequency of certain phrases throughout the history of traditional Maori music and what the cliches of the genre are.
“Even that in itself is such a beautiful thing because it makes you reframe all of these lines, the layers of irony…there’s so much depth there that will never be exhausted. There’s also the realisation that there are so many songs that, excitingly, don’t have melodies. There’s a real treasury of Maori music that’s waiting to be reshaped and brought back into the light again. There’s some anthologising that needs to happen and it’s exciting to be part of that.”
The forced time at home for Williams meant that pace could slow and with it, a period of reconnection, rediscovery and rejuvenation could eventually be embraced. It can be heard throughout My Boy. There are moments of isolation, balanced beautifully with moments of romanticism and hope. Its sonic scope feels more expansive than previous Marlon Williams records – a reflection of how the artist’s own vision for his output moving forward has evolved as well.
“There’s certainly a lot about the world that made me feel detached,” Williams says of the different mental places My Boy took him. “Music is one of the only places I can cling to like a lifeboat.”
“I can cling to it and know that in some ways, it’s safe from the rigour and pressures of what’s going on in the world. It became a haven where it was impervious to the changes around it. It was a way of charting my own lockdown journey; there are a lot of stories about being alone and idle wanderings of the mind that are scattered across the record.”
“I’m super excited about taking these songs back to The Benders and navigating it with them,” he adds. “A lot of it is going to be difficult to fully represent live, but that’s part of the fun and challenge. I can’t wait.”
Marlon Williams is playing a special, intimate show at Howler on Friday September 9 with a full album tour soon to be announced. My Boy will be released September 9 via Virgin.
