American Aquarium Burns Brighter
After planning on calling it quits with its latest record, the alt-country band finds new motivation.
After planning on calling it quits with its latest record, the alt-country band finds new motivation.
B.J. Barham, lead singer of the hard-living, Raleigh-based, alt-country band American Aquarium, is currently on the road to Austin to play at this year’s SXSW. It’s a strange place to be since less than a year ago the band had planned on calling it quits, sacrificing six years on the road for limited success, failed relationships, and a storage unit that all five members called home. It wasn’t until their planned “final record,” Burn. Flicker. Die, began selling that the group caught its second wind. “It’s really funny how a record about not making it and breaking up ironically was our most successful record,” says Barham. “We’re still at the bottom of the totem poll but it was success, like we all pay our bills on time now and have an apartment to come home to. It’s a big deal for a band like us.” American Aquarium plays Friday night at the House of Blues.
For Barham, Burn. Flicker. Die. encompassed every negative aspect of life on the road. “It came from six years of not making any money, sleeping on floors, and watching other bands make it that you didn’t think would make it. Just as our album Dances For the Lonely lists all the things that were fucked up with my relationships at the time, Burn. Flicker. Die. lists all the things that were fucked up with me being on the road, whether it be substance abuse, the one night stands, or realizing that I can’t hold on to a certain relationship.” He continues, “In case people asked themselves, ‘I wonder what ever happened to American Aquarium,’ I wanted them to have a listenable album that would lead them to say, ‘Oh, that explains everything. That’s why those guys are so fucked up.’”
The lead singer has several theories why the band’s luck changed with their latest album. For one, it was recorded in Muscle Shoals, the South’s hotbed of rock n’ roll throughout the ‘70s. “When you pull into town, it’s got a lot of mojo,” says Barham. “You start thinking about the records that have been made there and it humbles you. But it’s a really great atmosphere to write and record because there’s nothing else to fucking do in that town. It’s a pretty desolate shithole of a town. But I think that’s why it works for bands because there are no distractions. It makes you focus on making music.” Also, the record was produced with the help of former Drive-By Trucker, Jason Isbell, whose most recent record, Southeastern, has also garnered praise among alt-country fans.
The band is already planning its next album, which will be recorded in June and released at the end of 2014. Ironically, Barham describes the next project as a happy record, or as he explains, “They’re depressing sounding songs but they come from a very positive place. I’m in a very positive place.” Burham credits this to the recent success of the band, but also to the success of his latest relationship. “It’s funny because I’ve always been a songwriter that writes what I know and I’ve always known messed up relationships. Not saying it’s any of the girls’ faults, I’m usually the person to set fire to all those relationships. So it’s nice to finally be in a relationship where it works.” Happy isn’t the first adjective that comes to mind when talking about traditional country, and Barham is the first to admit it. “I think it’s a terrible mixture,” he confesses, “oil and water. But I think if you do it right, you can incorporate happier themes into country music. Like I’ve always said and stand by, no one wants to hear how fucking happy you are, but as long as you make happy relatable, I think people accept it.”
Barham is also known for his emotional affect on stage. According to the lead singer, the lyrics come from a very real place, and his feelings when first writing the song resurface as the opening chords are strung. “Most of these songs are extremely cathartic,” says Barham. “It’s me getting out a lot of negative energy. If I didn’t write songs, I would have probably already killed somebody.” Barham believes that the band’s fans relate to that kind of honesty onstage. The same might be said for their peers in the genre, including Drive-By Truckers, Dawes, Deer Tick, and The Low Anthem.
And even though success has revived the band’s thirst to work, American Aquarium’s ultimate goal is modest. “We’re not greedy,” says Barham. “As long as we can play music every night and still be able to have a family. I want kids, I want the house, I want the picket fence. That’s something the 25-year-old me wouldn’t have wanted but I’ve reached that age” It’s the plight of every artist, to be able to do what they love and maintain a relatively stable lifestyle as they breach maturity. In some sense, it’s epitome of the American dream. Barham continues, “I’m not going to lie and say that I wouldn’t like to be bigger, but as long as I don’t have to change the music that I write, becoming more popular would be awesome. I’m not one of those guys who say, ‘I don’t want success, I don’t want fame.’ That’s bullshit. Everybody want to make a living doing what they love doing.”
