Will Dailey

That's a good thing. For the last twenty years, since 2004's GoodbyeRedBullet, Will Dailey has been obediently writing, recording, and releasing albums in all the "right" ways to appease the demands of an ever-changing system. In the process, he's built a solid, loyal fan base. He's also lost a bit of his humanity.

Something's wrong with the algorithm and we all know it. Few of us are willing to do anything about it, but Dailey's been waging a silent war to bring back a sort of humanity to the artistic exchange between artist and audience. It might force him to forgo the obvious rewards generated by the powers-that-be, but he's discovering a new level of fulfillment and connection—worthy rewards of their own.

In our most recent conversation with Dailey, we spoke to him about a new album, Boys Talking, that won't be available digitally, the $10 song only available to hear at shows, and his new single with Juliana Hatfield. It's also a discussion about the music industry and what matters most for all parties involved.

Analogue: I like the new single and I’d love to start there with the Juliana Hatfield track. How did that connection happen?

Will Dailey: The last tour I did before the 2020 blur, I guess we'll call it now. Don't want to call it a pandemic or a lockdown anymore. It's just all too traumatic, especially for artists. But that tour was with her. I was opening up for her for like two weeks.

Fan seems like an inappropriate word in a way. I just really look up to her. I think she's a songwriting genius—she’s up there with anybody. Her last studio record just kind of floored me and that was also her 19th release

We're from the same town. She's my friend but I also admire her so much. Same with Kay Hanley, who is from Boston too. And they've been kind of beacons for me as I go, of artistic dedication.

So when I was writing “Make Another Me”, I just heard her voice in it. I can't explain why. The song is really about loneliness. You probably shouldn't have another voice, you know? But we're in the studio—the whole record is the band in a room facing each other. Even all the sounds that you hear in the track, like the swirling kind of fun stuff, that's all tracked live. The only thing that we didn't do at that moment was Juliana.

I remember everyone was digging the track and loving it.I just had one of those moments I think anybody who's making records would understand, like you know it's good but something doesn’t feel right. I loved this song so much when I was done with it, and I knew its direction.

Then a couple of months later, we kind of lined up her schedule to come in and sing on it. And as soon as she just got behind the mic and joined me, I'm not exaggerating, I collapsed to the floor. She's like, ‘Oh yeah, you had a vision. You knew what you wanted to do.’ That final piece was missing. Because I've been saying, like me and my co-producers, like something's not right with this track. As soon as she opened her mouth behind the mic, my dreams were fulfilled.

Analogue: How much have you worked together before?

Will: Not in the studio. Just on the road for a couple of benefit shows. I've played guitar for her on a couple of charity gigs and stuff like that.

I definitely had that feeling of… words like “fan” or ‘hero’ for her, someone you just look up to as a creator. You just want them to think you're cool, you know? And you toil over this email that you're going to write, ‘Hey, I have this song, and here's the demo.’ I sent her the demo and she's like, ‘I would love to hear it.’ And I was like, ‘What?’ It was just that easy. It's a tremendous feeling to have those beacons of influence then be a part of your process.

It's astounding to me and I'm glad I get to talk to you about it, because I kind of want to talk to everybody about it, how awesome it feels. But some people don't get it. It's hard to be excited in the world of music commerce, right? We've talked about this before, it's just not an exciting world. It's a tyranny of content. So these moments are my everything.

Analogue: Well, obviously, I want to also get to the story of this album, because you're putting it out in physical form and not digital form. Correct?

Will: Correct. The 10-Dollar Song is a template in a way, and an emotionally rewarding one. It's just this one song that I've been touring on for a year and a half. aThere's a booklet that travels with it that people have been writing in.

The process of having it was so rewarding for me. And it also kind of rewired my brain, because I would have really intense experiences on the road of people listening to this and responding to it, getting angry that they can't listen to it again. I mean, they can if they want. Some people have shown up three times at three different shows to listen to it.

But just having that one-on-one reaction or seeing that people are coming back, seeing that people are grateful for this really strange experience, this sociological experiment in listening—like what happens when you can only hear it once. It’s made it clear that I just need to continue to do this.

At the same time, I can’t be like, ‘Hey, tell a friend to check this out.’ It felt weird at night when you weren't sharing it but so powerful and humanistic in that it's immediate and kind of an ancient practice, instead of this overwrought algorithmic world in the palm of our hand thing that we all know is unhealthy, but we can't break away from.

This is a long way of saying that I just wanted to extend that somehow and not feel like I dropped my album into the abyss of content, hoping someone would click on it, and in a sense, devalue it. Because I'll never, and I never want to, have the same real estate as Taylor Swift, or Bruce Springsteen, or anybody, where you can own the conversations for a week to a month. I know as a person, I wouldn't be able to manage that.

That doesn't make me any less of an artist. But I'm being told, if you're not going for that, then you are. Every artist is told that, right? And that's completely false. And then what happens in return is we all just run to that same abyss.

And so with [the new album] Boys Talking, “Make Another Me” comes out. I'm on the road for October, November, and part of December. You can buy the tape, the CD, the vinyl. You can download the album from Bandcamp. And if you have it, you have it. It's yours.

I feel like, as an artist, don't I owe some of that to the listener? And not saying like, ‘Hey, I hope you're one of the numbers that clicks on this, because I really need those numbers to go up. Thanks for helping me get to a million, two million, blah, blah, blah’

And in turn, over the course of the two years it takes an indie artist like me to market an album and get it out and share it and feel fulfilled, I can reach out to those people, put it on social media or an email, and say, ‘What song do you think we should release second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh?’

Maybe we get up to seven and just cap it. I'll have another thing by then. Three songs, that way the thing that you bought, or you have, in its completion, is yours, and you matter. And you have to matter to me, so we can have this reciprocity of listening, and sharing, and connecting.

Analogue: Will, what's in that book? Or what's your favorite thing about that book?

Will: Oh my god. Are you ready for this? I'm not reading the book.

Analogue: At all?

Will: At all. I have Kay Hanley from Letters to Cleo, my friend from this band Lady Pills in town, and Busy Philipps in New York the other night just read from the book. So I have them on camera reading from the book. So what I have heard is when I've held up my phone, my goal is to make a music video as long as the song of people reading from the book.

Analogue: Wow.

Will: That's just something I thought of doing. And you know what's going to be really cool, too? As Boys Talking goes out, in October I'll be on the road with the album on tables, and somewhere in November or December, there's a blast going out. To whoever has Boys Talking saying, ‘Here’s the other nine songs. Which would you like to see shared with the world next?’

This is all a music sociological experiment. How does that feel? How does that feed back into an indie artist's career where, let's say, you have the album and in January we release a second song and it's the one that you really wanted everyone to hear. You're probably going to fucking share it. You know? And you're going to feel seen and heard.

I’m in bed thinking everyone should be doing this, unless you're Beyonce or Taylor Swift or one of the A-listers, that 1% of all music. Let's start saying each of us matter a little bit more. For me and my mind to not panic like I need everyone to hear this and click the button. That would just send it out immediately.

I just think of the slow food movement in America the past 30 years. The best restaurants now are the ones that seat like 10 people, and that's what I think of when I start to think of American cuisine right now. Twenty years ago I’d guess big steakhouse would be what American cuisine is. But we've turned it around a little bit.

Analogue: If it's everywhere, it's nowhere.

Will: Exactly. It's like if there's one thing I just want to have in this life is an authentic extended relationship with making songs and recording them and performing them until I cannot stand anymore. I have to protect that at all costs.

VISIT: Will Dailey

Photo: Pat Piaseki