Touché Amoré on Gardening, Movies, Working With Ross Robinson, and Navigating the Promo Sea

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Keeping the intro short here because it's a long interview and I'm technically on vacation right now: Touché Amoré have a great new album out next week, Spiral in a Straight Line, the follow-up to 2020's absolutely titanic Lament. A few weeks ago I hopped on a call with vocalist Jeremy Bolm and guitarist Nick Steinhardt to talk about the new record, the heavy music landscape, and a host of other topics. Check it out:

Nick, you just got done with your first tour as Dashboard Confessional's creative director. Tell me about what that works entails for you.
Nick: My background is in graphic design, but people bring me on for any aspect of their campaigns. Ideally, I'm overseeing all of their visual output—record packaging, merch, socials, advertising, live shows, videos. Because of my background, I'm mostly doing album packaging with clients, but in Dashboard's we designed the stage and lighting to fit the mood of what he wanted for a tour.

Had you done this before?
This was my first real one involving lighting. We did some amount of it for Touché during COVID—we did a live stream for our record release show, which involved a big LED wall that I animated and designed all the screen content for. Because that was the focal point, the notes to the lighting designer was more about color palettes fitting each song. The Dashboard tour was my first time working with a full-on uh crew, being the conduit between the artist and everyone else in order to convey the mood.

Tell me about how you got started with graphic design and what part of your brain that scratches compared to making music.
They're honestly quite interwoven. In bands in early high school, I was the only one that had an art background because I took painting classes and drawing classes as a kid, so I'd end up making our T-shirts and demos. I went to CalArts for design, and have spent the vast majority of my career working on music-related projects. I'm not, like, a fine artist. I don't have my own thoughts and feelings I need to put onto a canvas. Within music, I get to interpret others' thoughts and feelings and figure out what the visual component of that ends up being, which is quite satisfying.

Tell me about how this new record came together, especially in terms of that congress between the musical and visual aspects.
Nick: It always starts from Jeremy.

Jeremy: More often than not, we start writing the music for the record, and after we get three or four songs done, that's about the time when I start trying to figure out words. I like to have a handful of canvases in front of me to feel the energy of the songs. Then I start to think about how those songs make me feel, and once I start getting some words down and I'm in a place where I'm actually happy with what I've written—which usually takes me some time—I feel comfortable to share those early stages with Nick, which gives him a bit of an idea on visuals.

"Altitude" was one of the first songs that I wrote the lyrics for, and the line "Spiral in a straight line" felt pretty early on like it could've been a record title. When I brought that to Nick, we both got excited about where that could go, and that seems to be the way it goes with all the records.

Nick: Yeah, that wouldn't be the first time that you had an early lyric where we were like, "Oh, that's a great album title."

Nick, where's your headspace at visually at that point? You kind of have one foot each in different artistic aspects of the band's presentation in that regard.
Nick: It is multi-pronged. It starts with the lyrics or something as simple as a title. I'm not somebody where you could just be like, "Hey, make something look cool." I'd be like, "What? Give me some context." Thankfully, being in the band provides a lot of context—both for what we're making in the moment, as well as what we have made.

Sonically, this record sort of starts where we left off with the last one, and visually that's generally something I'm thinking about too: What are some threads that I'd want to carry with us, but not so that we're just repeating ourselves? In this case, sonically it felt like we shifted the color wheel slightly with some of the guitar pedals we were using in the studio. We've had a lot of recurring colors in our records that we gravitate towards, and this one felt a little different—so it gave me the freedom to be like, "Let's use pinks and yellows and greens, instead of reds and blues and pinks."

The album title is quite evocative, and when I hear a phrase, I start dissecting it. Spiral in a Straight Line, that's obviously a little conflicting. What are things that could be both at the same time, and what meaning can you derive from those? One of the main touch points was a film spool. Jeremy's a very avid moviegoer, and I was thinking about film as a medium as well as a substrate. It's a coil, but uncoiled, it also tells a linear story. From there, you start researching—how did film come to be, the science behind it, how did we go from black and white to color. That research feeds my brain, and then I pick up little clues along the way.

Let's talk about movies for a minute. What have you guys seen that you've liked or disliked?
Jeremy: Last night I saw the Speak No Evil remake. Did you see the original?

I did, but not the remake yet. How was it?
I was pretty allergic to them remaking that movie because the original is so upsetting. There's no way that an American studio, especially one that big, is gonna go that hard. I don't know if you saw the trailer for the American one, but it basically gives away every single twist from the original. When I saw the trailer for it, I was like, "Fuck this." How rude to do that to the original—to give away all of these twists!

So at first I was like, "I'm not gonna see this, I'm so mad that this even exists." Then, last night, a bunch of friends were going, and I got invited. I'd seen on Letterboxd that a handful of friends gave pretty favorable reviews, and I was like, "Okay, now I guess I'm curious"—and I hate to say it, even though it's quite different, they do a really good job of building tension and giving it its own identity. I could probably have skipped the first 70 minutes because it's almost shot-for-shot like the original. But McAvoy was pretty fun and charismatic as this sinister-ass person, so I was was entertained enough. I'm still gonna forever resent the movie studio literally leaving no twist unturned in the trailer, but I gotta give it credit—it was definitely better than i was expecting it to be.

I've definitely had a similar sense of dread about seeing it. But I was shocked to see the Letterboxd reviews rolling in over the weekend. People I trust like it!
I was sitting in my seat being like, "Alright, I'm just ready to be mad this whole time"—which is not the best feeling to go into a movie. I just had so much built-up resentment because of the rollout. Also, this movie came out two years ago—why are you remaking it already? No one has any good ideas? Man, the original version of that film...I mean, between that and, like, Funny Games those are the two meanest movies I've probably ever seen.

Have you seen Beau Is Afraid?
Yeah.

What'd you think?
Did you see that viral tweet that went around about the audience that just like had a visceral reaction to it, where people just started screaming?

Yeah.
So, the screening that the tweet was talking about, I was in. It was the Thursday showing at four o'clock in Burbank, one of the smaller theaters. Do you know Dan Ozzi?

Oh yeah.
So it was me, Dan, and a couple of friends, and as soon as it ended, a couple of people started applauding—and then someone was just like, "Don't applaud for that shit! He needs to be stopped!" People were so mad, and we were like, "I don't know...I kind of liked it." I went into it knowing it wasn't gonna be what anyone expected it to be. It took its time, certainly, for the length of it—I'm not opposed to long movies or anything like that, but there's large swaths of that movie where I was like, "This might've needed an editor, a little bit." But I like Ari Aster, and I'm happy that he's been given the ability to make weird shit. I think more people need to make weird shit.

Yeah, I've seen it twice now, I honestly think it's a modern masterpiece. I love shit that gets under your skin.
For sure. When I went to see Midsommar on opening night in Burbank, it was a completely packed theater. Five minutes into the movie, during that really upsetting scene, a huge earthquake hit in Burbank and they had to evacuate the theater, so we had to come back a few days later—but I was like, "Wow, that's a really visceral thing to have happened five minutes into this movie." You could tell everybody was just like, "I don't want to get up. We're from Burbank, we know that this shit happens. It's gonna be fine. Let's sit in our seats." We were in the very top row too, so like we really felt the intense shake of it.

This album arrives at a time in which "spiraling" as a concept seems to be taking greater hold in the mental health lexicon. Let's talk about what spiraling means to you guys, both in context of this record and in general.
The whole thing started with a universal feeling that so many of us go through. A big headline about this record, for me, is that—and I'm certainly not unique in these feelings—everybody, these days specifically, in the world that we're living in, wakes up with their own version of dread every single day. But we all have to sort of get out of bed and show up for work and the people you love—whatever you need to do for others to get through the day. We all have these things going on in our heads that are making our lives very difficult, but we still have to get out there.

Do you guys have any personal coping mechanisms when it comes to spiraling?
Jeremy: Nick, you got plants, right?

Nick: Yoga helped during a particularly turbulent time. It felt actually necessary for me to go on with the day.

Jeremy: The amount of working on your cactus stuff—is that not a way of calm though, for you?

Nick: I don't know if it's about calm. It's something I really enjoy doing, but the rest of the bullshit is in the back of my mind while I'm trying to do a calm activity. It's hard to say. Yoga is what sets me up for the rest of the day being tolerable at the first thing in the morning, even if it's full of shit. The physical work of being outside is totally rewarding—looking at plants, smelling fresh air—but I don't have an activity or a goal with that every day. I don't always just stroll through the garden and tune out.

Jeremy: Movies is a big one for me. Because I'm so music-focused, there's less at stake with my love for movies. I can just watch a movie and have an opinion on it and use that as like a hobby—as opposed to music, where I'm so attached to it in so many different ways, where I'd read interviews and reviews or voicing something and feel like there was always more at stake. Movies is a great way for me to turn my brain off and escape. But on the music side, I'm a big record store person, so sometimes if I'm having a particularly hard day I'll just get in my car, go to a record store, disassociate. I love the feeling of just flipping through records, whether or not I even realize I'm fully taking in what I'm looking at. I also have such a photographic memory that, as I'm just aimlessly flipping through stuff, something will catch my eye—like, "Oh, I know what that is. I should look at that."

Nick, I'd love to hear you talk more about plant care. My wife is really into taking care of plants—she actually just got a bonsai tree.
Nick: A bonsai is something I for sure see in my future. I don't know enough about it yet, but I've listened to a bunch of podcasts of people talking about the pruning, the trimming, and the staging.

So, I'm heavily involved in the cactus community in Los Angeles. There's several clubs and organizations, but I'm the treasurer of the Los Angeles Cactus and Succulent Society, which is a non-profit that's been around since the 1930s. We meet monthly, and people give presentations on excursions—how they went to Oaxaca to visit this specific plant in the wild, or just general talks about plant care and staging, which is pairing the plant with the right pot and rocks.

I fell into this funny community because I had a very high water bill in 2017, and I was like, "Well, I gotta figure it out. I've always thought these plants were cool, so let me learn a little bit more about them." So I grow a lot of cactus. I just put in a 12'- by-16' greenhouse in my backyard. I also grow California-native plants for, again, environmental reasons. I just did a really big landscaping project at the top of the year—I put, like, 600 plants in the ground and rigged up all the irrigation. That's definitely something I enjoy doing—just being off the screen, because so much of what I do is tied to a computer.

I'd love to hear you guys talk about working with Ross Robinson again—who, as the press materials point out, is a very distinctive figure in rock music.
Jeremy: In more normal circumstances, you'd think that if someone has a very particular way of doing things and you're to work with them a second time, you'd go in being like, "I know how this goes, it'll probably be easier this time." But even when we approached him about doing this one, he looked me very deep in the eyes and said, "We're gonna go deeper this time"—and I was just like, "Oh, fuck. He's not gonna let us off easy."

He'd told us stories in the past about bands that he got a second record with and how he made them work even harder, because he doesn't want anyone to like feel like they can coast through anything, which I do appreciate. I remember the first time we worked with him, when I was leaving the studio that day—we'd just done a single with him, and he laughed and said, "I don't get a lot of repeat business." Which, you know, it's kind of funny to be that self-aware about it. But, yeah, he's got lore. I think there's something really awesome, in the world that we live in today, that a guy who's been around as long as he has and has made such impactful records has that kind of lore—and he still exists. That's just not really a thing anymore.

It's such an interesting experience, because you're working with somebody who cares on such an extremely deep level. We could have a 12-hour day, and you'll never see him look at his phone. Any time you have a question about something, he has four answers for you. There's never a moment where he's not as dedicated as possible. Even when there might be a hiccup in the studio, it might stress us out a little where we're looking at our watches being like, "Man, this is taking a while," but you can tell that it's eating him up because he's like, "All I want to be doing is the work. I don't want to be worrying about this shit."

It's really inspiring to be with someone who cares about and loves what he does so much. To have that support system—to know how much he believes in us and what we're trying to do— you can genuinely feel the love that he has for the music. For us, it's really sweet, and even if it's an extremely hard process—like, harder than any other thing in the entire world—you know that you're being cradled by someone who's like has your best interest at heart.

Nick: As far as the lore is concerned, I feel like we've caught him in an interesting place in his life. I don't think he ever set out being like, "I've got something to prove," but I don't know that we've walked away with any of the war stories that we've heard about regarding other bands in the 2000s. His level of investment and intention is something you can't ignore, and you realize you have to meet him on that level. It's more than just laying the tracks down. It's much more of an experience, and we've left with a collaborator that I truly trust. We might not have the same instincts or preferences, but I trust him more than probably most people I've met in my life because how invested he is, and it's really beautiful. Pulling the emotional intensity out of Jeremy is a very different thing than me playing guitar and him challenging me on something. but it's been quite a rewarding process for me. It's a way I've never recorded before.

Jeremy: Something that is very specific to Ross is that he brings up an idea about something and I'll let him cook on it and be like, "Okay, let's see where this goes." I personally had an experience on the previous record where he had suggested something, and in my brain I was like like, "That's the worst idea I've ever heard in my life, but I'm gonna just keep my mouth shut." When I heard the end result, I was like, "No, that shit rips—that's a good idea."

With "Lament," he wanted to do a thing with the toms, and he was like, "It's a hook in a place where there's no hook," and when I heard the end result, I was like, "Okay, that makes sense." I'll give everything he suggests its space, but if at the core of it I start to feel like, "I don't know..." and I finally bring it up, when he listens to me say why, he's not listening for what he thinks the part is going to mean. He's listening for how much I stand by and care about what I'm saying. He's genuinely gauging it on how deeply I feel about an idea, not about how it's going to affect the song. Everything with him is intent and what it means emotionally—whether it's just a part that lasts four seconds in a song, or the way a lyric hits.

Another reason we feel like we're in such good hands is, not to generalize, but I assume a lot of producers who have been around for a really long time that have made their bones in this world might take the backseat to things and just be like, "Yeah, it's going to sound good." But that's not him. Everything is important.

He's not doing the Rick Rubin thing where he's falling asleep on the couch for three weeks while you record.
You said it, not me.

I'm curious to hear you guys talk more about bringing other people into your world. Julien Baker's on this record again, Lou Barlow did a little something for you guys this time around, too. Tell me about how that makes an impact on the music you're making.Is somebody coming in and adding another spice, or is the collaboration itself something where you're building music around it?
We've had both versions of that. More often than not, the idea of having guests on a record is this extra bit of joy that I personally get really excited about. We're very lucky and privileged where, the kind of music that we've made, we've always been able to skate between different scenes. We've had years where we went from being direct support for Circa Survive right into direct support for Converge. That's not something a lot of bands can do with ease. The joke is always that we're either the hardest thing on the soft show or the softest thing on the hard show. Because of that, we've formed a lot of amazing relationships with people from different worlds. That's how we landed having Andy Holt from Manchester Orchestra and Justice from Trapped Under Ice on the same record. At the end of the day, it makes sense.

Julien's now been on three of our records, and I've been calling her the MVP of our records at this point, because she comes in at the tail end and does something that is ultra exciting. This time around with her, this idea popped in my head, and when I approached her I was like, "You can tell me to fuck off, because you've done this twice now. You're a good friend, but you don't need to do this," and she was like, "I'll come in this week." We've never had the joy of working with her in person—every time she's worked on our records, she's always just sent her track in because she's been elsewhere. But this time around, she happened to be in California, so it was uh really exciting to get to do that with her—and, also, witness her and Ross, which was also its own thing. When Justice came in for the last record, he did all the Ross shit with Justice. If someone's coming in to sing on our record, it's important for him to know that this person who hasn't been a part of the process understands all of the intent. Though it can make us be like, "This might go weird or sideways," with every guest who's ever been present, you can tell that they're excited about it because they get to have the Ross experience.

I could also tell you the Lou Barlow story, if that's something that interests you.

Lay it on me.
So, I'd been writing "Subversion" while we were in Australia. I do this thing often where, I'm not afraid of flying in any capacity, but if i am conscious of it, when we're landing, sometimes I'll put on like a song that I'd consider one of my favorite songs—just in the off-chance that something goes sideways, at least I'm listening to something that I love. On this particular flight, we were landing in Adelaide and I was listening to Sebadoh. "Brand New Love" is in my top 20 favorite songs in the history of music since I first got into that song many years ago.

I was working on words, and it hit me as I wrote that lyric about landing in Adelaide that I could sing the chorus of "Brand New Love"over the outro. I'll be the first to tell you that I don't understand music, so I bring it to the band like, "Hey, does this make sense?" I'd expect Nick to be like, "That's in the wrong key," and I'd be like, "OK, fair," but it made sense. So we went and demoed it with our friend Alex Estrada, who I'd also consider the sixth member of our band in a lot of ways. He has an amazing singing voice, so I was like, "Hey Alex, can you sing this over the outro?" Because I know I can't. He did, and I was like, "Holy fuck, this actually works."

So we go do the record with Ross, and I started thinking of guests to have do it, and I was like, "What if we literally just asked Lou Barlow?" I know that it's the most brazen thing, to ask somebody, "Hey, will you sing your song on our song?" That was never lost on me, how bold of an ask that is. Yasi Salek had interviewed him, and I asked Yasi, "What's he like?" And she was like, "He's an incredibly sweet person and really nice." So I was able to get in touch with him, and I wrote him as thoughtful of an email as I possibly could. I sent him the demo version and what the song meant to me, and then he hit me back and was like, "This sounds fun."

I couldn't believe it. When he eventually sent in his his tracks, for me personally it had to be a top-two favorite thing that has ever happened for us as a band. I just cannot believe that someone would be so kind with their art for strangers. We've been supported by so many people in really kind ways that they didn't necessarily need to be. That's always been an influence on us in a lot of ways—giving back, whether it's been taking bands on tour or whatever. There's always ways you can be kind to people that you don't know in this musical world. But have him do that...I still can't believe it, and it's something that I'll never forget.

When i hear it back, it sounds corny, but I get goosebumps. Because, straight up, what if he thought our band fucking sucked? The response could've been like, "A, I'm not going to sing on it, B, please don't use my song." But he didn't, and that's the coolest thing.

I wanted to go back to the notion of always being either the softest band on a hard bill or the hardest band on a soft bill. Heavy music is always going on no matter what, but I do feel like over the last couple of years we're seeing a larger embrace of those sounds. I think about the year Knocked Loose are having right now as an example. Talk to me about the state of heavier music from your guys' perspective. As people who have been doing this for a minute now, is this just lazy trendspotting on my part, or is there something actually in the water?
I think it's always just a "Right band at the right time at the right place" situation. We've always joked that breakdowns are just a universal language. We've played a million European festivals where we'll have to follow a band that is just breakdown after breakdown, and it's always like, "Well, let's go do what we do now and hope that it translates." It always ends up being, for the most part, okay—but we already have a perception from the ground floor where, it doesn't matter what country or city you're playing, it's a thing that has never gone out of style. That shit is in our DNA from caveman times. Breakdowns will always translate.

But it does sometimes take the right band to come out of nowhere and be very fucking good at it, and Knocked Loose just has the juice. We know those guys a little bit, but we're also very close with Deafheaven, who recently opened for them. Knocked Loose are scholarly about metalcore in a way that's really endearing. They know every single band—I'm talking, like, MySpace mid-2000s bands. They have an opinion and they have respect on it.

Not to generalize, but metalcore is not the hardest music to make. It's fun, because breakdowns are just open chugs most of the time. Nick was once in a band that glorified how easy it is to do some of this stuff. If Nick's old band came out today, it would probably be huge. [Laughs] But when there's the care and charisma behind it, it shows, and that's why I think they're as big as they are. Knocked Loose does have a genuine love and respect for metalcore, and they actually know how to write good songs using these absurdly heavy parts and rhythms. So I think it's the right band and the right place—but, you know, metalcore has never gone out of style. Sometimes it just gets more popular than other times.

Nick: When I say I'm confused [by Knocked Loose's success] I don't mean it in a way—I'm just like, "How did something that's that antisocial and uncommercial get that big?" That confounds and amazes me, and it gets me stoked. There's not many people out there that are willing to be aurally punished.

Jeremy: I just also want to throw so much respect to Knocked Loose for the fact that, as big of a band as they are, to have a new record come out and not do the thing where they implement singing parts at this point—to be like, "We are going to go harder, we're just gonna make it more abrasive"... Nine and a half bands out of ten would've been like, "Okay, let's try to go big this time, let's have the heavy parts but also try to make it commercial. But I'm sure [Knocked Loose vocalist Bryan Garris] is like, "I don't know how to sing." The only other band I can think that doubled down in that way is Underoath. They had that insanely poppy record and then they made a heavy, ISIS-y kind of record, and I was like, "That's cool." For Knocked Loose, it's beyond a breakthrough—it's an explosion.

Let's talk about the financial aspects of being in Touché Amoré—dealing with the business side of the music business. What has that unsavory experience been like for you guys?
That's a loaded question. [Laughs]

Nick: You've asked a unique set of individuals. I don't want to get too in-depth here, but in the world that we exist in, we're somewhat of a household name. Fandom is so in the weeds now about ticket sales and metrics—the listenership didn't used to care about that in the underground. I'd be very curious what the average fan thinks about our lifestyles. I'm in an interesting position, because I've had another career this entire time—but it's been very much tied to the music industry. I'm also our business manager, so I can ostensibly save us money because, despite 16 years, we're still pretty low to the ground with relatively little crew and the band in a trailer. Nothing's really terribly glamorous so that we can come up with a little bit of money at the end of the day.

It's harder than ever to promote music in 2024, A backdrop for your stage costs 40% more than it did three years ago, and we're not making more than three years ago so it's all about that careful balance to keep what we do going. There's quite a big financial difference between the level that we're at and whatever you describe as the level just above it, because there's your fixed operating costs, and then there's like your margin that grows with the more tickets and records you're able to sell. These days, promoting music, you're like, "Are any of our fans even seeing this?"

Jeremy: We had a single come out 11 or 12 days ago, and I'll randomly repost it and I'll have someone be like, "Dude, I'm so excited—you guys have a new album coming out soon?" I'm like, "We've been literally posting about this for months now."

We're all seeing how many tours and festivals are getting cancelled left and right, because no one's buying tickets and bands can't afford to do this. I saw Helmet and Local H cancel their tour because they were straight up like, "No one's buying tickets," and I'm like, "You're Helmet!" I can't imagine that Helmet's trying to play thousands-cap rooms—I assumed it was probably a pretty modest tour—but when you're seeing bands on that level being honest and saying, "We can't do this, it's too much of a risk..."

We have this headlining tour that we're really excited about, playing hopscotch with Drug Church and Fiddlehead the whole time, which you're like, "That's not probably so hot." Also, you have to feel bad for your fan base too, because they're having to make financial decisions on which show to go to yeah because not everybody can afford to be out three nights in a row. It's gotten harder for a lot of us, and it's easy to fall into, "Man, I hope people do still like us." It's not bad, it's just the world that we all exist in, and we have to just be thankful that people do still care and rely on that.

Having to pay attention to how social media reacts to things really flattens your perspective of whether something is hitting, too. I can definitely relate to that.
Nick: It's tough, because we started the conversation talking about how visual presentation is so important to us. Not that we've ever been terribly polished, but there's been a shift away from that and towards more what somebody would call "authentic content." I'd like to stand behind the fact that we're not a vapid band with no message. What Jeremy sings about is quite impactful, and I think probably the reason people even like our band to begin with is that vulnerability. You'd think that would probably be something that translates in 2024, but there's age demographics and different factions of fan bases. We're talking about a shift over years where different things on different platforms mean different things and different times, and like finding the right way to promote something at the right minute is just like kind of a clusterfuck.