Big Thief found most of its Gen Z listeners on TikTok, which is kind of insane to realize about a band that seems flung out of space. They started as just Adrianne and Buck, who knew each other from Berklee College of Music in Boston but didn’t meet again until a chance encounter in Brooklyn a few years later. The kismet of this reunion and the ethereal nature of their music led me to picture them biking through 1970s New York City à la Patti Smith and Robert Mapplethorpe — in reality, it was 2013 when they began touring, and 2014 when they released their first two EPs. (They were, it turns out, in Lena Dunham’s NYC.)

The band was eventually rounded out by two more Berklee alumni: Max Oleartchik, bassist and Buck’s longtime friend, and their drummer James. Two of their albums, 2019’s “U.F.O.F.” and 2022’s “Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe In You,” have been nominated for Best Alternative Album at the Grammy Awards.

The last 10 years, Buck says, have been a lesson in learning to let go of fears and methods of control. “Being in a band is really challenging because you’re in a relationship with people who know you more than you know yourself. You know each other’s fears. You know each other’s strengths and weaknesses so intimately.”

“I have felt like we just get younger and younger in our spirits over the course of 10 years because we’re learning to just let (things) be,” he continues. “At the beginning of the band, we had a lot more desire to control things.”

Last July, the band announced the departure of their bassist, Max. While they cited “interpersonal reasons,” fans speculated that it was due to their planned concert dates in Tel Aviv, Israel — Max’s hometown — in 2022, which drew criticism amid Israel’s genocide against Palestinians. The band initially defended their decision to play in Tel Aviv, before eventually retracting then cancelling the shows. In May 2024, two months before Max’s exit, Adrianne released a song compilation to benefit Palestine Children’s Relief Fund.

The forthcoming “Double Infinity” will be the first record without Max. Buck calls it “the opportunity for a rebirth.” “It’s a reminder that we have the opportunity to challenge our own biases and instincts, and to treat every time we meet up as a band as if we’re a new band.”

The “spirit of adaptation,” after all, has always been a defining characteristic of the band. They have been known to change up setlists and improvise on tour. “That’s how we’ve always created music together, even as a four-piece,” Buck adds. “From the very beginning, we’ve always really valued being present in the moment.” It’s something they continue to carry in this new phase as a trio.

The album, which was two years in the making, contains songs the band has performed live but never released — like fan favorite Words and TikTok-viral Incomprehensible — along with songs they wrote in the process of letting go of Max. “We tried to record it as a trio, in the forest, in isolation,” Buck recalls. “We tried for a month, and we were struggling.” 

Their previous albums have been recorded in makeshift studios in the woods; a fitting, enigmatic setting for making enigmatic music. This time, the band was feeling stuck in their seclusion. “We were still grieving the loss of Max in the band, and (we were) not really sure who we were.”

So the band packed up and returned to New York, gathering their friends at the recording studio Power Station. “We’re more ourselves as humans when we’re in community, whenever we’re in reflection of others,” Buck says. “When we’re responding to the external world, our intuition comes out.”

I’m reminded of all the young artists in show business, or even those in the business of simply trying to make it, including myself, who have made authenticity our work’s anchor. What the hell does authenticity even mean, when we spend more time as our virtual selves — versions of us we can entirely curate? Big Thief’s authenticity is one born from unpredictability, from shedding away all pretenses. Their true selves were only revealed upon their erosion.

“We played with 10 people in a room,” Buck says of their recording sessions, “and when there’s that many people playing all at the same time, it encourages this lack of self-consciousness. There’s just so much stimulus; you’re automatically more focused on everyone else than you are on yourself. Your ears are just open.”

“It’s almost like your survival instincts kick in. It’s hard to hear yourself because there’s so much sound, and you’re responding more instinctually to what’s happening in the room. It’s more like a conversation.”

In the process, the guitarist recognized that so much of playing is really just listening. “You’re responding — that’s the essence of it, versus projecting your own identity into the space. What can be more authentic than reflecting what’s happening objectively around you?”

There is an oft-recirculated video of young Buck and Adrianne busking in Washington Square Park, singing the then-unreleased Paul, faces close together as they share a microphone. It has been one of the band's most popular songs (and my favorite) since its release on their 2016 debut album “Masterpiece.” A song about wondering what could have been had the singer not been the cause of the relationship’s death, the part that constantly haunts me is Buck’s voice slowly appearing behind Adrianne’s during the chorus. It was as if the singer’s lover was confessing it was partly their fault too; that sometimes things simply refuse to fall into place.

Many things have obviously changed since that video was taken. Adrianne and Buck were married for three years before divorcing in 2018. While they remain close friends, the pair had to take a brief break from touring at the time. All three members have also been releasing solo music and producing other records in between Big Thief projects, sometimes helping each other out during production. 

Buck, for instance, released his third solo album “Haunted Mountain” in 2023, and has worked on “a couple” more after being inspired by “Double Infinity.” “What I love about working with my own project or playing guitar in other people’s bands is that you see everybody having a different relationship with the creative process. There’s no dogma. When you’re in your own process for too long, you start to develop attachments to your own methods and biases.”

He continues, “It helps me re-approach the band in a new way. It feels like we’re all bringing new energy every time we meet up.”

“Double Infinity” also includes Grandma, featuring multi-instrumentalist Laraaji and the first track that all members co-wrote. While Buck and James have helped Adrianne write certain tracks over the years, this was the first time they intentionally wrote something from scratch together. 

“We said, ‘What are we going to write about today?’ and we went on a long walk,” Buck remembers. They decided on “the wise, elder feminine,” and the feeling of “stability and wisdom we find in a grandmother.” It captures the transitions the band has been going through, and everything that has pushed them to let go. “It's all right, everything that happened, happened,” sings Adrianne in one of the verses. “So what's the use of holding?”

“(It’s about) the bridge between our youth and a world that’s passed; (about) someone who can see the loss, who has an aerial perspective of time and can see how things change through experience,” Buck explains. The song ends with, “I saw love through the pain, gonna turn it all into rock and roll.”

I ask Buck how the band stays adamant in their process of discovery during music-making; how they don’t succumb to the pressures of a fast-paced world. I’m asking for the interview, of course, but also myself — as our attention spans race to shrink, how do you linger? 

“I’ve always seen writing songs as a pretty sacred practice,” he says. “I treat the song with respect and intention as you would something precious.” Buck adds that there’s often an oscillation between moving slowly and simply moving with thought and intention. “We put a lot of intention leading up to the (songwriting and recording) session, but then when we get to the studio, we let go of control. We don't give the players any direction.”

Still, letting go is easier said than done, but it becomes less of a challenge with the rest of the band in mind. “The power of a collaboration is we never release anything into the world until the whole collective feels good about it.”

“We've never made music based on what we think other people want, or any kind of pressure from the industry. But we definitely want the collective to feel really good about it,” Buck says.

While it’s inevitable for friction to form during the creative process, it helps to “really get in touch with your feelings.” “If I have an opinion about something in the studio, where is that feeling coming from? Is it coming from a fear in myself, like from vanity or my ego? Learning to recognize where my opinions are coming from — and learning to choose when to vocalize them and when to fight for them — have been really valuable parts of being in a band.”

Generally, Buck describes “Double Infinity” as possessing “a calm strength.” Something that has weight but also weightlessness, “like it’s levitating.” Dense and powerful, but also light; perhaps not unlike a heavy burden collectively getting lifted.

As we wrap up, I can’t help myself: when is Big Thief coming to Manila? “We want to come there so bad. We talk about it all the time,” Buck says, which I am choosing to believe. (And reader, I invite you to believe with me.) To the Filipino fans, Buck imparts: “Just treat each other with kindness.”

***

“Double Infinity” by Big Thief will be released on Sept. 5 via 4AD. 

Story by Andrea Panaligan
Photos by Alexa Viscius, Genesis Báez, and Daniel Arnold
Cover design by Alyza Laforteza
Special thanks to 4AD and Beggars Asia