Enigmatic psych-pop quartet Lo Moon last week graced us with their eagerly awaited third studio album, I Wish You Way More Than Luck. On it, lyricist Matt Lowell revisits a profoundly transformative period in his life, detailing the feeling of confusion during the height of the pandemic in 2020 that transported him back to 2001.
It was an introspection that led him back to a place of significant personal history – The Clark Chapel – where the genesis of ‘Borrowed Hills’ took place, and ultimately, the direction for the new album was set.
With each member bringing their unique sensibilities to the project, the band embarked on an explorative journey, crafting a record that delves deep into themes of confusion, change, and ultimately, catharsis. From the inspired gates of ‘Borrowed Hills’ to the reflective depths of ‘Honest,’ Lo Moon invite us on a voyage through their world, punctuated by moments of contemplative lyricism and vast soundscapes.
Let’s jump into the track-by-track breakdown shared by Lowell and bandmate Samuel Stewart, offering a glimpse into the creative process and personal narratives that shape I Wish You Way More Than Luck.
Borrowed Hills
Matt: “It all started back in December 2020 in the middle of the pandemic. We were finishing our second album, and it was an incredibly tough time for everyone. The world experienced a complete paradigm shift, reminding me of another very similar time in my life when everyone was just as confused: 9/11.
“I was living away from my family in NY after being recruited to play hockey at a school in Connecticut, and on that day, my life changed. It was an extremely fragile time, and there was a sense of disorder all around me. A couple of days after 9/11, there was a tribute concert for it, and Bruce Springsteen played The Rising. I was completely transfixed, and something inside made me pick up a guitar and explore how to express myself through music.
“Up to that point, I had been very into music. I played drums in bands, and I attempted to sing at the Glee Club, but I had never tried to write a song. That day, I wrote my first song and shared it with my music teacher. Every week at school, we met in this very idyllic chapel on campus, and someone from the student body had to share something. The week of 9/11, we had a memorial in our chapel, and my teachers convinced me to play this song I had written for my fellow students.
“I was petrified, but something happened that day. My life changed, and I discovered a new way to express myself. In 2020, I returned to the chapel to see if I could rediscover some magic. I sent an idea around to the band.”
Sam: “It was instantly compelling. We tried a few versions and eventually stumbled upon the gated drum sound while we were messing around at our friend’s studio. Everything fell into place after that, and we landed on the first real demo for this record.”
Waiting A Lifetime
Sam: “I had this chord progression, which had been kicking around for a while but hadn’t been used for anything. One day, the four of us were jamming at Matt’s house, and I started to play the riff on a piano, which gave it kind of a U2 New Year’s Day vibe.
“All of a sudden, the chords had a new identity, and Matt started singing the melody, which seemed to appear out of nowhere so naturally. When he started singing the chorus line, ‘I’ve been waiting a lifetime’, I thought, ‘Well, this one is 100% going on the album…’”
Matt: “I thought that line was always going to be a placeholder, to be honest. I tried so many different lyric ideas on that melody, but it made sense the second I asked Crisanta to sing it. Sometimes, just hearing back something in a new way gives it a new perspective. I remember being attached to my original gibberish lyrics.
“Sam and I sent them back and forth and edited the gibberish from the original voice memo into something that had the feeling. I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the mix. We sent Alan Moulder this tune, and he transformed it. He found an energy we had no idea was in there, and without him, this song wouldn’t have the life it does now.”
Connecticut
Matt: “I started this song in the chapel, and initially, it was part of the same idea that eventually became the chorus of ‘Borrowed Hills’. I had this voice memo of me messing around with two chords in the chapel and singing, “I hear the voice of my father”. I had no idea why I sang that then, but I knew that was enough of a lyrical seed to hang a song on.
“A few references to This Side Of Paradise by F. Scott Fitzgerald are in tune. I must have been reading it at the time. When we returned to the chapel while recording the record, I had just finished the final lyrics, and I sang them in that space. A lot of that vocal made the final recording, and I think it has such a unique spirit.”
Sam: “The evolution of this song was quite interesting because initially, it was part of the same idea that eventually became the chorus for ‘Borrowed Hills’. Matt’s original voice memo contained the intro we all loved, but it didn’t work in Borrowed Hills, so we turned it into a new song. I think this may have been the first song that we tracked live as a band, and it immediately felt exciting. There’s a lot of hidden magic in the recording, and for me, it sounds the most like the spaces in which we recorded. I can hear every room we tracked in.”
When The Kids Are Gone
Matt: “I wrote this one while I was up in the chapel as well. I had this line, “When the kids are gone,” which I thought had a beautiful duality and could be taken in many ways. Sam and I worked on an acoustic demo that I always loved. It had a fragility, and we knew we wanted to capture that same identity with the whole band.”
Sam: “All of us knew that this song was special and that we had to do it justice when we recorded it. It was very tricky trying to keep the emotion while also building a sonic landscape that felt compelling and unique. We got there in the end. The icing on the cake was recording the group vocals at the chapel where Matt wrote the song. The reverb sounds so beautiful.”
Water
Matt: “It all started with the riff. It reminded me of something I might play on the acoustic guitar back in high school, which was exciting. I had tried writing a few songs with the line “I wish you way more than luck”, but nothing felt right. The first time I heard that line in a David Foster Wallace commencement speech, I knew it was a song title. I was lucky that it worked with this new idea I quickly became obsessed with.
“Everything about this song is special to me, including the way the band came together in a moment, the spirit, the new territory, and everything. I remember being so afraid to send this one off to Alan. It had such a feeling, and I knew it needed a great mix. To say he put everything in its proper place is an understatement.”
Sam: “This song fell out of thin air. We were set up in the studio, recording another song – I think it was Connecticut – and Matt kept playing this cool little riff on acoustic guitar between takes. During a break, Matt showed the riff to our engineer and co-producer Mike Davis, who told him to keep playing it until the band joined. Eventually, we did, and instinct took over. It was pretty immediate, and the song was almost entirely written in the space of a couple of hours. It was a joyful moment and the most collaborative songwriting experience of the record.”
Day Old News
Sam: “Probably the easiest song to make on the album. Matt and I wrote and recorded the demo very quickly one afternoon and put it aside. When we pulled it up in the studio, we all thought that it had a really interesting vibe already and shouldn’t be messed with too much. We recorded some washy drums and added a couple of synth overdubs and some saxophone, but other than that, it is very close to the original demo.”
Matt: “I was listening to a lot of Grateful Dead at the time [laughs], and I think I was just trying to inject that carefree spirit into one of our songs. I remember Sam and I working on this song and then listening back to the demo in his car immediately after we finished and we both thought oh wow this is interesting, we better not mess this one up.”
Mary In The Woods
Matt: “I started the demo for this song way back in the early days of the pandemic. I stumbled upon a beautiful track by the Italian artist Lucio Battisti called “Abbracciali abbracciali, abbracciati” and I was inspired to write something which evoked the same spirit. I thought we needed a moment like this on our record. I had a very old song called ‘Mary In The Woods’, and I always wanted to bring that title back. This was the perfect song for that.”
Sam: “In the studio in Portland, we went late into the night jamming the two chords and trying to get the feeling right. When we woke the next morning and listened back to what we had been doing, we realised that we had been playing it way too fast, so we slowed down the track and low and behold, the spirit was there. The song really came together later on when our friend Dave Hartley (of The War On Drugs) put down some incredibly silky bass.”
Evidence
Matt: “Sam brought over this progression one day. I absolutely loved it and immediately knew it could be new territory for us. One interesting note about this one was a lot of the original demo lyrics made it through to the final recording. That’s pretty rare. This one had a bit of a journey in the studio, but I love how it turned out. It’s also quickly transformed our live sets, and it finds new life every single night.”
Sam: “I wrote this chord progression early one morning before going over to Matt’s house for a writing session. I liked how cyclical it felt, even if it was slightly confusing at first. We got a basic verse/chorus demo down and put it aside for quite a while. When we were up in Stinson Beach, we decided to have a crack at playing it all together. It sounded really cool but it never really went anywhere that interesting, so we decided to make an outro that would be completely different to the first half. After a few drinks, we set up in the live room. Sterling played a super hypnotic kraut rock-inspired beat, and we all jammed out for ages on the same four chords. Listening back in the control room was so exciting! It was probably the most fun I’ve ever had in a recording studio.”
Honest
Matt: “Wow, this song has been such a journey. I originally wrote this song in London in 2018. We tried recording it so many times after that, with no luck. It just either never lived up to the original demo, or there was something emotionally lost in translation. It’s a simple song about honesty, reflection and relationships. while we were up in Stinson Beach, I stumbled upon a new way to play it on the piano, different from the way I had played it a million times before.
“I found a new way to enter into the emotion and I kept playing it on a loop. Lucky for us Mike Davis our engineer and coproducer had the microphones up and was able to capture the full takes. I was so happy we finally cracked this one, and I knew it had to be the last song on the record.”
Sam: “One of the most elusive songs in our repertoire. There must be no less than ten different versions of this song going back as far as 2018. We always knew it was a special song that had to be delivered in the right way. We chased an “anthemic” version of this song so many times, when all it really needed to be, was subtle and intimate. At a beautiful studio in Stinson Beach in California, which overlooked the Pacific Ocean, Matt played and sang the song on a loop for about two hours while the rest of us listened intently in the control room. Some tears were shed and it was quite cathartic. I think it always had to be the last song on the album.”
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