In the early 1990s, Athens, Georgia catalyzed into a sonic safe haven, explosive pocket-sized community, sparkling artistic magical forest, and a new hub for the legendary music collective Elephant 6. Some of the most notable acts to crawl out of this scene include The Apples in Stereo, Neutral Milk Hotel, and of course, Of Montreal.
Known for free-flowing collaboration–like 50 people playing 50 snare drums at once–and glittery psychedelic pop music inspired by the Beatles-esque sounds of the 1960s, Elephant 6 served as an influential trampoline for the Of Montreal puppet master, Kevin Barnes. They loved the unceasing, unworried creativity that seeped out of the music and its accompanying fantastical performance art– a freedom which can be attributed to the fortunately unfortunate fact that most Elephant 6 bands were effectively off the radar of major labels.
The scene began to fade around the same time that Barnes became interested and soon after absorbed into electronic and dance music. Over the course of their career, they recorded to cassettes on a 4-track, graduated to computer recording, then revisited tape for its charming quality. In the process, they pumped out 19 studio albums, crossing, mixing, and twisting genres like pop, indie, funk, psychedelic, electronic–and probably some stew of noises none of us would know how to name. Along with the recorded music itself, Barnes’ live shows have garnered a notorious reputation for the wonderfully weird, with seemingly endless ideas for dances, costumes, props, lights, and performers.
This past March, Barnes revisited one of their most beloved records, The Sunlandic Twins. Originally released with 13 tracks, the 20th Anniversary Edition boasts 53 recordings, amounting to a casual 2 hours and 45 minutes worth of blissfully mind-microwaving sonic epics. This includes the songs you’ve heard, the ones you probably haven’t, the ones you definitely haven’t (aka an unreleased treasure trove), some remixes, some de-mixes and a generous lot of live recordings from Norfolk, Virginia in 2006.
I had the honor to chit-chat with Barnes about two weeks shy of the release of The Sunlandic Twins 20th Anniversary Edition. When they answered the phone, they were in the middle of a hike in the uncivilized forests of Vermont with their two dogs and casually carried on most of the interview through their hiking.
We spoke about how they might want to zipline across the audience, what breeds their mutt dogs might be mixed with, and how depression sucks. But we also talked about music too, like the second-to-none role of performance in their work, the story of when they began producing for bands like Godcaster, and their process of putting together the perfect setlist that’s fun for both the audience and the band.
And hey, if you ever wanted to get human hair dropped on you like confetti, maybe go to one of their shows in America this summer.
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity and length.
How are you doing?
It’s good. I’ve been building this little recording studio and I spent the day painting it. Now I’m on a hike with my dogs.
Wait, currently right now? Do you hike a lot?
Uh huh. We live in the forest in Vermont and there’s so many endless acres all around us. It’s great just to get out in the woods with the dogs.
Oh yeah, that’s the dream. You’re up in Vermont now, but you were living in Athens, Georgia for much of your early adulthood and career–what was the balance like between Southern conservatism and the lively pocket community of Elephant 6?
The conservatives didn’t really encroach into our world very much because Athens is a little liberal bubble. It was pretty easy for us to exist without that stuff entering the equation. But to be honest, the conservatism was one of the reasons I moved from Athens. I was getting sick of being surrounded by so many of those morons, so we moved up to Vermont to be around more like-minded, progressive people.
Speaking of Elephant 6, you’ve talked about how no one really cared about what y’all were doing. You weren’t on any major labels, and you had the freedom to experiment. Do you ever miss being in those sort of DIY scenes? What do you think is lost and gained from growing out of that?
Definitely a sense of community and having collaborators was lost. It felt really special to be a part of what everybody was working on, playing on each other’s records and going on tours together. Especially when we were first starting out, it was incredible to have that support group of like-minded people that were doing really great things. We definitely inspired and motivated each other to keep working.
I’ve read that there was a ton of collaboration in those spaces. There were at times 15+ people playing the same acoustic guitar part or 50 people playing 50 snare drums. But now, like you said, you live in Vermont in a forest outside of civilization. What sort of role do you think collaboration versus solitude plays in your practice?
I got a lot out of that collaboration in Elephant 6, but after a while, the scene splintered. Then I tried to turn Of Montreal into a collective in a way, with performance and visual artists and different kinds of musicians. It’s not the same thing as Elephant 6 because it’s a bit more insular, but it’s something adjacent to what that was. I’m working alone now, but I have definitely collaborated with people since then. The weird thing about Vermont is that there actually are a lot of people that I could work with. I’ve started making more friends in the music scene, and I had someone play on one of my new songs. I can see how it could actually be a similar environment here as it was back then in Elephant 6.
I recently saw you play in December [2024] at that festival in Austin. Before going into it, I really didn’t have much of an idea that you had such a huge performance aspect to your work…And it just blew my mind a little bit. When did that love for performance start?
K: There definitely was a lot of that happening in Elephant 6. People wouldn’t really approach it in the typical indie rock fashion of just going on stage in your street clothes; or if you did, your street clothes were more interesting than normal street clothes. Seeing those Elephant 6 guys and what they were doing was really cool, like Olivia Tremor Control, The Music Tapes, and Neutral Milk Hotel. At the same time, I was rediscovering Prince and getting more into Bowie and Kate Bush and all these different artists that had a really strong theatrical element. It definitely becomes more of a traveling circus when you have so much going on on stage. Even just the day-to-day touring experience is more fun because there’s more people and personalities. You never get bored of anybody because you could always just go talk to this other person. Everybody is bringing in something special. In that sense, I do have a community when I go on tour just because there’s so many of us.
When you said traveling circus, it just reminded me of all those objects and costumes and props. Where does all of that go after the show? Is there any sort of archive of all this stuff?
Sadly, a lot of it has been lost and the things that we really like live in my brother’s garage. We used to have a storage space and we had all this stuff packed in there, but then we realized we’re never going to bring these things out again, so we just got rid of them. But we try to re-use the props in different formats and it’s fun doing that. We could take a mask or something that we had made specially for us, and then add some other new layer to it that actually transforms it into something new.
Who’s making these things? Do you just have an idea and you’re like, “hey, I know a guy who could make that.”
Pretty much. We’ve definitely used a handful of different people. Often my brother will draw a sketch of what he wants it to look like, and he’ll either make it himself or we’ll find someone to realize it. Sometimes one of the other performance artists will make some costumes. We try to do as much in-house as possible just to keep things less expensive, but sometimes it’s something really special and it requires somebody that actually has a ton of talent in that area.
I think that adds to the whole collective thing you were talking about. Have you ever had any performance ideas that have been shut down?
Definitely the one idea that I thought would’ve been cool that got shut down was to collect a bunch of human hair from hair salons, and do a balloon drop on the crowd. I don’t think it was a bad idea, but it would be really creepy.
Oh my gosh, that would be crazy. It would be like when people drop confetti from the ceiling, except it’s just human hair.
Yeah, it’d probably be really awful.
And then getting people’s mouths.
Oh, that’d be terrible.
Well looping back to your origins, I’ve seen that you were doing a lot of work on 4-track at first, but now obviously you’re a huge artist and you have the resources to have big studio production if you wanted to. How does fidelity affect your songwriting and recording process?
I used to use a cassette 4-track because I didn’t have anything else and it was the least expensive way to do it. But then I loved analog recording so I started getting nicer tape machines and kept moving in that direction for a long time.
Later, I started getting into more computer recording because it’s really quick and you can experiment in an insane amount of different ways. It’s really fast because you don’t have to clean the tape heads, put the tape on the machine, and get it all set up. Computer recording is just faster and easier, but at the same time it can feel kind of sterile.
But there’s something really special about analog recording. I actually own a tape machine again and we’ve made some recordings on tape fairly recently. It’s always weirdly really fun even though it requires more of an effort. You can’t really comp tracks in the same way that you can with a computer so you actually have to be able to play the parts, which is a challenge, but it’s fun in that way.
Tape recording also has a natural vibiness and distinct personality to it that computer recording doesn’t really have just because it’s not as common anymore.
Speaking of recording, you recently started producing for Godcaster. How did that happen?
We’ve been playing shows with them for many years and when I first met them, I just thought they were incredible. They have so much energy. The lead singer is one of my favorite front people because he has such a strong, weird, kind of scary, kind of loving vibe to him. He’s incredible and the band is an incredible group of people. I love hanging out with them when we tour together.
They were fans and asked, “Hey, would you be interested in working with us?” and I was like, “Definitely.” So they came up to Vermont and stayed in my house. And it was really fun because each one of them does their own side recording and we made each room its own little recording station. The house was filled with music and they’re really funny and fun people, so it was a great experience.
Have you ever had any moments during this process or past projects where you had a really cool idea for one of their songs and kind of wished you kept it for yourself?
Not really because most of the people that I’ve worked with have had a really strong sense of what they wanted to do and a really strong identity of their own. Sometimes Godcaster would ask me to play bass on a song and hearing my bass on their song was almost upsetting for me because I was thinking, “I’m ruining your song, I’m making it sound like a stupid Of Montreal song.”
You’ve talked a lot about not wanting to get pigeonholed into any certain sound, so in response, you keep hopping around between genres. You’ve done funk, psych, indie, electronic, etc. Is there any genre that you’ve been wanting to try out?
Quiet acoustic type songs have been something I don’t want to do because I don’t want to put people to sleep with boring music, but I’ve actually been writing a lot of songs in that style recently and my new record might actually be more like that. I’ve always worried that this is just adult contemporary singer songwriter bullshit. The Vermont vibe is very much someone playing an instrument and singing cool lyrics, and I think I’ve definitely been inspired and influenced by that.
A new record! Is that exciting?
I’m always working on something so once a record comes out, I instantly jump into a new project. So it’s exciting in a sense but it’s also kind of just my life.
That’s beautiful you just immediately hop back into another record. Do you ever get burnt out?
I’ve definitely had periods where I haven’t been very inspired and I’ve had different mental problems like depression and that can feel like a block in work. I’ve had periods where I haven’t been feeling it but lately I have been.
What usually kicks you back into gear when you’re like, “Okay I haven’t recorded in a while, maybe I should get back in there.”
In a weird way my self-esteem is very much connected to my current work and if I’m not creating something then I start to have a lower self-esteem and I just feel worse about myself. So it’s really important for me to always stay engaged in that way.
Can you hear my dogs fighting?
Yeah, I thought that was the wind a little bit. Wait–this isn’t music-related at all, but what kind of dogs do you have?
They’re both mutts. One of them looks like a black lab but she doesn’t actually have much black lab. She’s more what they call a Mountain Cur, which I had never heard of before, with some pit bull and some husky. She has two different colored eyes, she’s very cute. The other one is also super cute and she’s a mix of German shepherd and black lab. She’s like a little dumpling.
Thanks for humoring me, I just really wanted to know. Back to music and such. There’s not a lot of genderqueer artists out there yet that have amassed the same level of popularity as you have. What’s it like being non-binary in music but also just being such a huge presence?
I guess to be honest I don’t see myself as that but it’s really nice that you would say that. I feel like we all have to live our truth and I don’t really think of myself as doing anything other than that so it’s pretty easy. When you can just accept yourself for who you are and make sense of your reality that way then it makes it easier to do you.
Do you think the music industry as it stands effectively serves the queer and trans community?
As far as artists being able to be themselves and find their own audience, it’s totally fine. The industry to me–the people who get Grammys and sell out arenas–I don’t really even think of that as music, that’s like Walmart. It’s just corporate and there’s not much there. I think we’re in a cool time with people like Chappell Roan becoming extremely famous. It seems like a more open-minded industry than it was when I was younger. We’re probably moving in the right direction with it.
How was it when you were younger?
Very heteronormative. There were super famous people who were obviously gay, like George Michael, but they weren’t really allowed to be out of the closet. It just seemed pretty toxic in general. The world that I grew up in was so toxic, it’s insane to think about it now.
Do you feel like being open with sexuality and gender in your music was something that came natural to you, even at the very early part of your career?
Weirdly it did come naturally, probably because I wasn’t on a major label and I didn’t have a huge audience. I felt like the music was just for me and my own personal journey. No one was really mean aside from a few writers being really cruel about it. In general it seemed like the stakes were very low for me, especially early on, and because of that, I could really explore that side of my psyche. I didn’t fight it. I’m realizing now that I have been a very closed off person in my real life, but I’ve been able to be a more dynamic person in my creative life. For whatever reason, it was always a safe space for me to explore different personas and feelings, express those in the music and not feel self-conscious about it.
With the Sunlandic Twins 20th Anniversary Edition, how has it been revisiting work you created 20 years ago?
It’s interesting because a lot of the songs have just been a part of the daily fabric of our lives–it’s not like we wrote them, recorded them, and then never played them again. And so many of the songs have been a part of the set forever and it doesn’t really feel like revisiting some old trend. But then there’s some songs that we’ve never played, so those are actually exciting to do and set up in a way that it’s not like, “Oh yeah, we’re gonna bore everyone with this deep cut that you’ve never heard before.” Hopefully, if people are coming to the show, it’s because they are fans of the whole album and they’re excited that we’re playing songs we don’t play often.
It’s funny when you tour and putting a set list together. On a normal tour, we don’t want to just play the most popular songs, we also want to play some songs that we’re vibing with. But we have to anticipate that the songs we play that aren’t that popular are probably gonna get less of a reaction than the super popular ones. If you just expect that, it’s fine.
I think this environment with the anniversary tour will actually be a different scenario where people will be like, “Oh cool, they’re playing that slower weirder song that doesn’t really work as far as keeping the energy going, but it’s just its own musical moment.” I’m actually really excited about it.
Are you bringing back any sort of old performance shenanigans from that Sunlandic Twins era or testing out anything new?
Mostly new. We’re doing it almost like a rock opera, but adjacent to that where the theatrics and visuals have a lot of pre-production. Certain songs lend themselves to a bigger theatrical or visual moment, and then other songs might lend themselves to a more party atmosphere. So we’re just going through each song and figuring out what would enhance the music the most.
You’ve had a crazy massive career, obviously tons of records, tons of tours. Are there any bucket list items you’ve yet to check off?
It’s a good question. I haven’t really thought about it because anytime I get an idea, I’m pretty much able to experience it. I’ll have to think about something that I’ve never done, but it’s crazy when you watch the Grammys or arena shows, and people will do some insane thing like acrobatics or ziplining while you’re singing a song–it’s pretty funny. It might be cool to be in one of those crash derby races where you’re smashing your car into other cars while singing.
There’s just a camera in the car showing you singing, and it’s on a giant megatron. That would be huge. Do you have any musical pipe dreams?
I think it’d be really fun to work with some people like Thundercat, Flying Lotus, D’Angelo. Oh, collaborating with Björk would be amazing.
Oh yeah you and Björk would make some crazy songs. You could just email her–invite her up to Vermont, say, “hey, come hike with me and then make a song with me.”
That’s a good idea, you never know.
That’s everything I have, thanks so much talking with me. Are you still hiking over there?
I stopped because I didn’t want to be breathing heavy.
Well you didn’t sound like you were taken aback at all. You sounded very fit and able to talk and hike at the same time.
Okay cool.