For over a decade, Deafheaven have been skillfully pushing the boundaries of what metal music can be – captivating and irritating music fans across the entire spectrum of guitar-based music. This year’s Lonely People with Power is not only the next step in the band’s artistic evolution, but also a deeply personal and mature reflection on how our perspective on ourselves, our families, the past, and the future shifts over time. I spoke with George Clarke about how Lonely People with Power works in a live setting, about photography as a personal medium, his collaboration with Paul Banks, his childhood, sobriety, and the idea of destiny – which, as it turns out, might not be so fixed after all.
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Your new album, Lonely People with Power, is already out and you’ve been touring with it. Do certain lyrics or moments hit differently on stage? Or does the audience’s reaction give them a new meaning for you?
Yeah, yeah. Honestly, it’s been amazing – some of the best touring we’ve done since we started the band. It’s always interesting to see what works in the context of an album versus what works live. When I think about a record, I feel like it needs shifts in energy – moments where things slow down a bit – so that when the intensity returns, it hits harder. That kind of dynamic has always felt essential to us when we’re building an album. But in a live setting, that same approach doesn’t always land the same way. For me, it usually feels more important to maintain a consistent level of energy throughout the show. Over the last few months of touring, I’ve started to see which songs really help sustain that energy and keep people connected – and which ones, even though they work beautifully on the album, don’t always translate the same way on stage.
I know you take pictures – and honestly, some of them are really beautiful. I found out that the cover of Emma Ruth Rundle’s album features one of your photos, and I’d love to hear more about that. Is photography more of a hobby for you, or another creative outlet?
Yeah, it’s really just a hobby. I’m definitely an amateur, but I enjoy it – it’s something I find fun and rewarding. For a while, once I felt like I had a bit of a handle on it, I took on a few small projects – I did the photo for Emma’s record and a couple of other things too, and that was a great experience. But ultimately, I prefer to keep it personal. Partly because I don’t really feel like I have the skill set to comfortably create work for other people, and partly because I think that when something you love turns into work, it can stop being enjoyable. I’m still very drawn to photography – I find the medium fascinating- but these days I mostly treat it as a personal thing.
What were the other projects you mentioned, aside from Emma’s album?
I did the cover for the band Tuscoma, and I also helped out a couple of friends who needed portraits for their own work – nothing major, just little projects for people I know. I also did a single cover for Storefront Church.
The visual aspect has always felt important in Deafheaven- your videos, artwork, the overall aesthetic. I’ve always wondered why artists still make music videos today, when platforms like MTV aren’t really part of the picture anymore. Is creating videos something you do more for yourselves than for promotional reasons?
Yeah, I think it really depends on what you’re looking for in a video- what its function is. If you’re thinking purely in terms of marketing and publicity, then yeah, videos definitely don’t have the same impact they used to. But if you approach them as a way to further express what you’re working on – to expand the world of the album and create a more complete experience – then I think it’s a really worthwhile thing to do. I mean, even if MTV still existed, they certainly wouldn’t be playing a Deafheaven video. So for me, it’s more about inviting the listener into a more detailed version of what the record is about and what we’re trying to communicate.
I was really surprised- and excited- to hear Paul Banks on your new album. How did that collaboration come about?
Yeah, Paul’s a great guy. I’ve been a huge fan of his for a long time. When we were working on that song, we knew we wanted to include a male monologue – something I had written – and Paul was at the top of my list. At the time, I’d become friends with Daniel, Interpol’s guitarist, and we were scheduled to open a couple of their shows in Chicago. So knowing we were about to play with them- and that Daniel and I had a good rapport – I reached out to him to ask if he thought Paul might be interested. Through him, I was able to get in touch with Paul. I sent him the lyrics, and he was super cool about it – immediately interested in the project. We just went from there. It was a real honor to have him on the album. We’re very different musically, of course, but I think what’s cool about making albums is that you can invite listeners into your world – not just through your own art, but also by showing them what you’re into. Paul was an example of that. So was Jae Matthews from Boy Harsher. Collaborating with them lets us share the kinds of music we love, beyond what we make ourselves.
It’s always interesting to me how many musicians in metal bands say they don’t actually listen to metal.
Yeah, I think that’s funny- and true. I do listen to metal, but I totally get why some musicians don’t. There’s just so much music out there, and when you’re in a metal band – especially one that tours a lot – you end up spending a huge amount of your time immersed in that world. You’re constantly surrounded by it: shows, festivals, other bands, labels, your peers. Sometimes it’s just nice to take a break from all that. And honestly, I think most metal musicians – like most musicians in general – are fans of all kinds of music.
I wanted to ask you a bit about your childhood. What kind of kid were you? Were you always drawn to music and writing, or did that come later?
Yeah, I was. My mom has always been really into music and writing, and a lot of my early influences came directly from her. There was always music playing in the house – she was into contemporary stuff, so the stereo was constantly full of ’90s bands. She also paid a lot of attention to lyrics, and we’d read them together. She’d explain what songs were about, or ask me what I thought they meant. That became something we connected through early on, and from there my own interest just kept growing. By the time I was around 11 or 12, some of my friends were getting their first guitars, so I got one too – and it all kind of took off from there.
You mentioned in a podcast that your mom bought you a ticket to your first concert.
Yeah, I remember that. I was 12 at the time. We lived in Bakersfield, a town just north of Los Angeles, and they had a small arena there. Pantera, Slayer, Static-X, and Morbid Angel were coming through on the Extreme Steel Tour. I hadn’t heard Pantera or Morbid Angel before, but I was really into Static-X and Slayer, so I got a ticket – thanks to my mom – and went with a friend. Getting exposed to that kind of music at that age was really intense and honestly kind of life-altering. Morbid Angel had just released Gateways to Annihilation, and Erik Rutan was still playing with them – that was a huge moment for me. Slayer was amazing. And then Pantera came on – I barely knew them at that point, but they were touring Reinventing the Steel, and the first song they opened with was Hellbound. They had all this fire shooting up from the stage, and I just remember thinking Oh my god. I was completely captivated.
When I read your quote in an interview – that the album deals with destiny, and especially the feeling that it might be fixed based on how you were raised – it really stayed with me. So I wanted to ask: what drew you to that theme, and why now, at this point in your life?
I think that in my early thirties, I started thinking more deeply about who I am. Your twenties are kind of a whirlwind – full of self-discovery and trying to figure out what it means to be an adult. And once you finally get some kind of handle on that, it frees you up to start asking what brought you here. At the time, I was working on a personal writing project about my family – completely separate from the album – and through that I started noticing all these threads that led back to me. I discovered distant relatives who were into theatre, music, writing, film… and also alcoholism, mental illness, suicide. All of it – the good and the bad. And I found it really fascinating that people I had never met, who lived in totally different circumstances, had these things in common with me.
From there, I started thinking more about my own upbringing – about my parents and how those things shaped me – and I tried to make some sense of it. Then I started wondering whether I could break certain patterns. I think I can. I think I did. And that led to thinking about that kind of resolve – what it means to recognize those patterns and decide to do something different. Sometimes, learning about the past makes you feel like your path has already been laid out. But then you take a step back and realize that even though the similarities are there, you’re still your own person. You have your own direction. You have your own path.
Was it easy for you to break those patterns?
No, not at all. For me, a huge part of it was dealing with alcoholism, drug addiction, and depression. Those were all things I struggled with heavily in my twenties- and things I had to let go of in order to move forward. I saw what happened to members of my family who didn’t let go of those patterns, and I saw what that eventually became for them. At some point I just said to myself, “I’m not going to do what they did.” So I didn’t.
Are you sober now?
Yeah, I have been sober for seven and a half years now.
I remember my first two years of sobriety. I was completely insufferable – like being sober became my whole identity. Was it the same for you?
Not really, no. I have a lot of love and respect for people who go into sobriety with that kind of intensity. Honestly, I think it’s a very addict-like tendency- to become addicted to being sober. And I actually think that’s kind of nice. For me, though, I was always a bit more private about it. The first year in particular was hard. I remember thinking: I’m so far behind everyone else. This is something I should have done years ago. There’s so much I need to fix. What I really wanted to do was hide away until I became my new self – and then reappear, like: Look! Here I am! This is the better version of me. So I think I did a lot of that. I stayed in my own world for a while, until I felt like I wasn’t completely out of my mind anymore. Then I slowly came back into the world like, See? I’m normal now. I’m just like you.
Was it even that common to be sober in the scene seven years ago?
Yeah, it’s definitely become more common over the past decade. I think people are just more aware now of what substance use can do to certain people. But even back then, I thought it was cool- and I had quite a few friends who were already sober by the time I got on board. That made a big difference. I wasn’t alone at all, and that support was hugely important.
I want to go back for a moment to your previous album- because it’s a great one, obviously. But at the same time, you already have an iconic record in your catalog: Sunbather. Do you feel that having that kind of history helps you move forward- or does it create pressure to top that success? Or do you not think about it at all?
I actually think it helps – it’s kind of a “been there, done that” situation. We have that album, and I’m proud of it. I’m glad we made it- it’s great. But at this point, Sunbather doesn’t really interest me much anymore. We’ve played it for, what, twelve years now? What it gave us is freedom – the ability to do other things without constantly chasing something. I don’t feel like I have to write “the one” I’ll be remembered for. Sunbather probably is that album, whether I like it or not- and that’s already taken care of.
And honestly, I think that’s a good thing. It allows me to focus on what I’m doing now with genuine passion, without the weight of constantly hoping my “seminal” work is still somewhere ahead. Once you’ve had that kind of critical acclaim, it sticks with you- and that frees you up creatively. In terms of success – like actual, material success – Lonely People with Power is probably our most successful album already. The shows reflect that, the opportunities we’re getting reflect that. I feel like we’re at our strongest right now. A lot of people even call it our best album. That’s coo l – though we weren’t really thinking about that going into it.
Because of Sunbather and Ordinary Corrupt Human Love, getting attention now feels very calm. I’m not overwhelmed by it anymore. I just think, “That’s cool, I appreciate it.”
When Sunbather came out, I was like, “Oh my god, I can’t believe people are saying this.” And when we got a Grammy nomination for Ordinary Corrupt Human Love, I was like, “I can’t believe we’re being nominated for a Grammy.” It all felt surreal back then. And now I’m like, cool.
Do you think being on Roadrunner had something to do with the album’s success?
Yeah, I get what you’re saying. I do think more people got to hear the album because of Roadrunner. That’s actually one of the reasons we wanted to work with them- to present our music to an audience that might not have come across us otherwise. That said, if you make a bad album, you make a bad album – no label can change that. Even if we were on the biggest label in the world, people would still have to care. For us, choosing Roadrunner came from a place of faith – faith that the fans we already had would stay with us, and that this would simply be a chance to reach listeners who aren’t necessarily tapped into the underground scene we come from. And I think that’s cool.
I actually have a fun fact about Roadrunner. Did you know they were on the verge of bankruptcy when they signed Nickelback?
No way, I didn’t know that.
Yeah! Nickelback basically saved Roadrunner.
Well… god bless them.
Right? You kind of have to thank Nickelback for your career.
I’m happy to thank Nickelback. That’s great.
Since you’re clearly happy with the new album- and it’s been critically acclaimed too – what do you imagine might come next for the band?
God, who knows? I’m not sure. Lately, we’ve been talking about maybe not putting out a full album next – just to relieve ourselves of the pressure that comes with that format. The thing is, with every album, we tend to pour a lot of ourselves into it. And because of that, it’s honestly pretty exhausting. We usually feel kind of wiped out once it’s finished. So we’ve talked about just releasing a few songs – maybe one at a time, or a small group- and doing that for a while, at least until we feel like we have the energy to commit to a full-length again. Because the worst thing you can do is release something that feels like a half-measure. If we’re going to put out a record, we want it to be meaningful, to carry a certain weight. And until I can stand behind it with full confidence, just putting out individual songs might be the better route.
You’ve mentioned before that masculinity is still a bit of a taboo topic in the metal scene.
I was thinking specifically about the song Body, which touches on how men relate to one another – and how father figures, whether that’s a family friend or an uncle or whoever, often represent a kind of awkwardness in that dynamic. I think communication between generations of men tends to be pretty stiff and surface-level- especially when it comes to talking about women or relationships. In my case, women. To me, that’s a really interesting idea. It’s about asking why that is, and acknowledging that it might be one of the reasons we turn out the way we do. I don’t see that subject explored very often. It’s still a sensitive thing to bring up. A lot of what defines metal – thematically and emotionally – is about power, confidence, strength, self-determination. That kind of energy is what draws people to the genre. So when you start stripping those things away and bringing in vulnerability, emotion- it can feel like you’re going against the current. And that’s really what I meant by calling it taboo.
What’s your relationship with the metal scene like these days? Deafheaven has always had a complicated place in it – after everything that’s happened over the years, do you feel like you’re finally welcomed? Or do you even care about that anymore?
I do care about it – and yeah, I do feel like we’re welcome now. Honestly, ever since we started, we’ve always just appreciated when people appreciated what we were doing. If indie bands were into us, we played with indie bands. If someone reached out and said, Hey, we think what you’re doing is cool, want to play some shows? – that always felt like a win. And the same goes for metal bands, hardcore bands, anyone really.
So over the years, we’ve played metal tours, hardcore festivals, indie festivals – we’ve always moved between different spaces. I was saying to someone recently: last year we didn’t play many shows because we were focused on the album, but the ones we did included a tour with Knocked Loose and a short run with Interpol. That, to me, is one of the real gifts of Deafheaven – that we’re able to exist in both worlds and feel totally comfortable in either.
As for the metal scene at large- I think we’ve always had our own ideas about what heavy means, and what metal can be. Sometimes those ideas take people a while to catch up to. But at this point, we’ve been around long enough that it’s not really a debate anymore. No one’s asking “Are they metal?” It’s more like, “That’s just what Deafheaven sounds like.” A decade ago it was still, “What is this? What are they even trying to do?” Now, it’s just… accepted. And that’s okay. That kind of shift takes time.