Will Toledo in the custom-designed mask he had made for the promotion of Car Seat Headrest's new album. It was a tense moment, but for Toledo, 27, some level of anxiety is always part of the creative process. On Making a Door Less Open , the album that he and his bandmates were trying to finish that day last fall, Toledo pushes even further into strange, exciting new territory, with more ideas than ever competing for air. For Toledo, all of this represents the logical next step in a career that stretches back a full decade to his first DIY releases. By , when most audiences met him as a new artist signed to Matador Records , he was already an accomplished bedroom musician with a catalog several albums deep on Bandcamp. In , when Car Seat Headrest toured the U. It felt like Toledo and his bandmates were in a sweaty wrestling match with the classic-rock tradition. I need to explore more before I turn to greatest-hits legacy band touring. Years earlier, when he was first imagining what a life in music might be like, Toledo had thought a lot about Brian Wilson, a key early influence.
On his odd and ambitious new album, singer-songwriter Will Toledo dons a gas mask, adds electronic textures, and tries to separate himself from the indie fame of Car Seat Headrest. Feeling like shit is the emotional baseline in Car Seat Headrest songs. It has taken Toledo four years to release another collection of new material. But Car Seat Headrest has never operated with the level of showmanship displayed here.
Making a Door Less Open
On his odd and ambitious new album, singer-songwriter Will Toledo dons a gas mask, adds electronic textures, and tries to separate himself from the indie fame of Car Seat Headrest. April 1 October 8 December 24 December 17 November 7 November 6 These are the best of a challenging, rewarding, overall epic year. December 13 From David Bowie's swan song to Beyonce's call to arms, Anohni's war lament to Frank Ocean's return, was a year of big artists making big statements.
By Alex Pappademas. Will Toledo, the founder and principal songwriter of Car Seat Headrest, sat in his Seattle apartment, looking into his iPhone camera through the eyes of a modified gas mask. About ways of ameliorating some of the self-consciousness he still feels onstage. About taking his live shows in a more deliberate and theatrical direction, and encouraging his audience to have fun. He had not thought of the possibility that a global pandemic would turn protective masks into both a commonplace sight and a potent symbol of all-pervasive, amorphous dread. By request, Toledo wore it for the first half of the interview, which was conducted via FaceTime. But he acknowledged that sticking with this particular conceptual stunt felt a little awkward, given the state of things. Another challenge is that these songs represent some of the most direct and accessible music Toledo has ever made. Like R. But for Toledo, bedroom recording was a means, not a motive.