Headphones

When Headphones first released its self-titled in 2005, it was a brief yet potent departure for central figure David Bazan—a synth-driven side project that captured emotional tension and spiritual dissonance in a new sonic frame. Now, two decades later, Bazan is revisiting the record with a fresh remaster (via Suicide Squeeze), a vinyl reissue, and bonus tracks that shed new light on its original form.

In this candid conversation with Analogue, Bazan opens up about the origins of the project, his longtime friendship with writer David Dark (who contributed liner notes for the reissue), and how his relationship with certain songs—like “Hello Operator”—has evolved over time.

Analogue: I want to start with something that made me smile: when I saw David Dark wrote the liner notes for the 20th anniversary of Headphones. I’ve read his book Life’s Too Short to Pretend You’re Not Religious, I follow his Substack… It made me wonder—have you been longtime friends with David? Is that what led to him being involved in the project?

David Bazan: Yeah, David Dark and I met in 2003 in Grand Rapids, Michigan, at an event called the Festival of Faith and Music.

Analogue: I’ve been to that. At Calvin College.

David: Yeah, that was the first time I went. We had a couple of mutual friends who’d mentioned each other to us, so I was vaguely aware of who he was. I’d read a piece he wrote on The Simpsons, maybe in The Gargoyle. I didn’t know much, but I had a sense he might be someone I’d really connect with—and apparently, he felt the same way.

So we met, and it was kind of a "meet-cute" situation. We ended up talking in the hotel lobby until the wee hours before our respective flights. It was magic. We’ve stayed friends ever since—he’s been a really important person in my life, especially as I’ve navigated shifts in belief and tried to make sense of the world. He’s been in that conversation with me the whole time, for 22 years now.

When the idea of doing something special for the Headphones reissue came up, I asked, “Can I ask my friend David to write something for the liner notes?” He was excited to do it. And honestly, we just love kicking it. So it was another excuse to connect.

Analogue: I love that. So when the 20th anniversary of Headphones was approaching, how did you know it was time to revisit it? Are you aware of these anniversaries creeping up? How do you wrestle with what to reissue and how?

David: At a certain point, you start noticing the big birthdays—10 years, 15 years, 20 years. We had just done a tour for Control and It’s Hard to Find a Friend in 2023, and I knew Headphones was coming back around. That record is a bit of an odd one in the catalog, but it felt like time.

David Dickinson at Suicide Squeeze—he’s a friend—started talking to me about whether we wanted to remaster it, reissue it, all that. We decided, yeah, let’s do a remaster, let’s press vinyl. Then you ask, “What’s the purpose here?” Obviously, you need it to make financial sense, but also artistically—what does it mean now? Can we present it differently? Can we add some perspective?

The idea was to reframe it in a way that might resonate with people who already loved the record. David’s thoughts really helped do that. His essay is flattering—almost uncomfortably so—but I believe him. I had to kind of steel myself and take in the compliment. It’s helpful.

Analogue: That’s beautiful. The bonus tracks this time around include an acoustic version of “Gas and Matches” and “The Five Chord.” What was the cutting room floor like for this album? And can you tell me more about “The Five Chord”?

David: At the time, iTunes was new—selling albums digitally was a fresh thing. We had this 10-song record ready, and Apple asked if we could include a bonus track to make it a one-click album purchase instead of just ten 99-cent songs. I wasn’t thrilled, but it was an excuse to make something new.

So we went into the studio and made “The Five Chord” from scratch in a day. It was added to the iTunes version. For the reissue, I wanted to restore the original 10-song flow and put “The Five Chord” out separately, as a single.

As for the acoustic “Gas and Matches,” that was recorded for a Suicide Squeeze compilation maybe 10 or 15 years ago. I’ve always liked that version, and David Dickinson did too, so it made sense to pair them.

But the cutting room floor? Basically nonexistent. That record came together under serious deadline pressure. We were up for three straight days before mastering, finishing lyrics, even writing songs in the studio. We barely made it.

Analogue: So there’s really nothing unused?

David: None. Not a thing.

Analogue: Looking back, which song from Headphones have you played the least live over the years?

David: Probably "Hello Operator". Looking back, there was a trend in movies, TV, and just culture in general. I think, culturally, we’ve become more aware of the baked-in misogyny in storytelling, media, and even in how songs work. That song is kind of a psycho revenge fantasy. At the time, it didn’t feel like I was writing an exercise or anything—it just felt okay to write and sing it. But later, after some distance, I heard it again and thought, “Oh… this is really not good.”

It’s a fantasy, sure. I don’t think a woman is actually dying in it, but the song expresses this seething, contemptuous perspective—this jilted lover wanting to exact revenge. Maybe it's done poetically, but it doesn't justify itself. I don’t think it holds up.

I understood that more clearly later on. Early on, I liked the melody, the chord progression, the movement of the song. From a songcraft standpoint, I thought it worked. But ultimately, I couldn’t bring myself to play it anymore. I’m happy to denounce it now—or at least put it into proper context.

People can still hear it and respond however they do, but I’ve just become much more aware. For anyone who’s been in an abusive relationship, or anything like that… I didn’t originally think of it as an exercise in creative writing, but looking back, it kind of feels that way to me now.

Analogue: Have your feelings changed about other songs on the record?

David: “Gas and Matches” is complex, too, for similar reasons. But it still resonates. Same with “Shit Talker” or “Hot Girls Never Wanted You.” What I’ve come to understand is that those songs are about bullies—being one, dealing with them, living in a world shaped by them.

David and I talked about that, and he included it in the essay. Even “Hello Operator,” when you boil it down, is about how abusive power dynamics ripple out and hurt people, turning them into abusers too. That theme still feels relevant.

Analogue: Is there a track you’re most proud of?

David: “Major Cities” might be the one. Lyrically, it stands out. Musically, it’s compelling. “Shit Talker” too—compositionally, I’m really proud of it.

I didn't know what I was doing on this record. As it happens most of the time, I set out in a direction that I didn't really know where I was going. I made a lot of weird choices on this. Frank Lenz drummed on it, and Tim Walsh co-wrote a couple of things and was a producer on the record. Jared Hankins engineered the record. Everybody was contributing in a way that I felt really good about, and it was super exciting. Then the parts that I was responsible for, I look back and I like how odd the record still feels. So in that sense, I think I am proud of it

Analogue: Did you revisit the album with Tim or Frank as you prepared the reissue?

David: I haven't talked to Frank in a little while, in the way that everything feels pretty fractured post-pandemic. And i've been getting over some some hard years, so I'm kind of coming back into the world slowly, so I haven't interacted with either of them or Jared about the re-release.

Also a factor there is that I went on and performed as Headphones without either of them for a number of years—well, a year and then came back to it later. So it kind of landed as a project of mine, with me as the primary songwriter and singer. I kind of carried the torch of the Headphones record on my own and in Pedro shows. We did interact a little bit with Tim and got his blessing, but not in the sense of like revisiting it and reminiscing.

Analogue: You mentioned wanting this on vinyl. I’ve never had my own record pressed, so I’m curious—does that feel especially fulfilling? To hold something with weight and beauty in this digital age?

David: Vinyl is complicated. So much of our job—especially around touring and releasing records—is dictated by the vinyl production process, and it can be a real headache. A couple of years ago, the turnaround time to produce vinyl was nine or ten months. So even if you finished a record, it couldn’t come out for nearly a year because you were waiting on the vinyl. Back in the late ’90s and early 2000s, the turnaround time was closer to three months, and that was mostly due to long-lead press. Magazines would interview you, then publish three months later—that was the bottleneck. But now, with everything shifting online, that’s no longer the issue. The delay now is all about vinyl lead times.

And beyond the logistics, there’s also the environmental cost. Pressing vinyl uses resources in a pretty extravagant way. When we made Phoenix—the Pedro the Lion record—we did a double vinyl gatefold. The music was on three sides, and the fourth side was an etching of a map of the city of Phoenix. The plan was to do all the records in that series like that: three sides of music, one side etched with a map of the place.

During the process, we had conversations with the label. They said, “If this is an artistic decision, then you should follow your vision—cost be damned.” But then I talked to my friend Owen Ashworth from Orindal Records—he performs as Casiotone for the Painfully Alone and Advance Base—and I asked for his thoughts. He manufactures records, so he understands the process. We ended up having a meaningful conversation about resources—about taking up space at vinyl plants that others could be using, and whether it’s responsible to do something like this just for a vanity idea. And of course, there’s the fact that vinyl uses petroleum and other nonrenewable resources. All of that makes it more complicated.

So yeah, holding the Headphones record in my hands is fulfilling, but there’s a lot wrapped up in that feeling.

VISIT: David Bazan