And in its own modest way, “Hello, Hi” is one of the musician’s most radical moves yet, precisely because of its tranquility-a largely internal, reflective record, part cabin fever, part taking stock of life, part just smelling the flowers. Segall is loath to repeat himself, and one album is often willfully unlike the one before it. On 2019’s First Taste it was no guitars, period (a restriction which in no way compromised the record’s volume) on last year’s Harmonizer there was extensive use of that titular device, a pitch-shifter popular with 80’s arena rock bands there was 2012’s Hawkwind-inspired live band recording, Slaughterhouse the no-holds sprawl of 2018’s exhilarating, 19-track Freedom’s Goblin and his most outré venture to date, the madcap baby heads and wryness of 2016 art project-album Emotional Mugger.
Then again, change has been a constant for the restless, chameleonic musician, who, for most projects in a ridiculously large catalog that kicked off with his self-titled 2008 debut, has embraced some concept, theme, or parameters. “Hello, Hi” is no bummer, but it is a change. It was like, ‘now here I’m in this room, and I’m daydreaming about all this weird shit around me, just, the window and the cement floors. That’s that song where, I just missed talking to people.
“The good parts of life, traveling and seeing people–the way the world was. Just saying, ‘Hey!’ It’s a simple thing.” Much of the album–intimate both lyrically and musically to a degree that’s nearly unprecedented for Segall–reflects the surreal times in which it was created, the days of wondering, just how long will this be our reality? “If there was an isolated, yearning song about a return to the way things were, that’s it,” Segall says of the record’s title track. And it’s like, you don’t ever think about it, until it’s gone. “It’s a simple sentiment,” Segall says of his new album’s title. The title of the compilation, Segall’s fourteenth studio album, is the deceptively unassuming “Hello, Hi” –written very deliberately in quotation marks. The couple spent the first few months of the pandemic largely secluded, conditions that prompted Segall to eventually pick up an acoustic guitar–an instrument he’d eschewed in recent years–and write songs about those basics we take for granted, like human connection. Segall–an indefatigable road dog for most of the past decade-plus–had already taken an uncharacteristic break from touring for most of 2019, and was ready to roll back out on the road, for multiple tours, when the virus upended those plans. A year earlier, the couple, along with their dachshunds Fanny and Herman, had relocated from east L.A.’s Eagle Rock neighborhood northwest to Topanga, the boho-minded enclave in the Santa Monica Mountains. You may recall that 2020 was a year that had us all feeling rather isolated, and Ty and his musician-photographer wife, Denée Segall, were no exception. They want some sort of joy or a physical therapy of volume, or a sense of community.” The Freedom Band delivered, with a grab-bag of Segall standouts from over the years, and an emphasis on two LPs: last year’s raucous Harmonizer and a very different, brand-new record, out this week. “I think that’s what people want when they come to our shows. “It’s hard to find your place, as a person on stage, with a microphone, because I just want to bring joy to people,” he explains. While Segall stayed silent on the matter from the stage–he’s long made a point of barely speaking at all during live performances–there was plenty of escapism and fury to be found in the music, for a crowd likely looking for both. The Philly show did go on, as did one hours after our interview, at Brooklyn Steel. Sometimes I just don’t know what to say.” And terrifying, and horrible,” he offers. A day later, Segall is still, mostly, at a loss for words. When the news came down, Ty and his Freedom Band–Ben Boye, Emmett Kelly, and longtime Laguna Beach homies Mikal Cronin and Charles Moothart–were in Philadelphia. Supreme Court did what millions had feared, and struck down Roe vs Wade, the landmark decision which for nearly 50 years had affirmed a woman’s right to an abortion. Twenty-four hours earlier, a Donald Trump-packed U.S. Other than it being a little too hot for only 12:30pm, what is not to like? Well, only the news, and one giant cloud that on this otherwise very sunny day hangs over not so much our meeting, but the country in general. Coffee, pastries, a quiet patio at a café in Brooklyn early on a Saturday afternoon in late June, and a conversation with one of the most essential musicians and affable guys in indie rock, Ty Segall.
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