Mikal Cronin, Ever The Seeker, Opens Up About How He Started Over

By Eli Enis


For several artists, a four-year gap between albums is a brief lapse. Janelle Monáe and Vampire Weekend took five and six, respectively, between their last two albums, and these new Frank Ocean singles almost feel like early birds compared to how long fans waited for Blonde and Endless. Yet in Mikal Cronin's world, four years is an eon. The 33-year-old songwriter/multi-instrumentalist, place on Earth and currently based in L.A., Was one of several musicians to break out of the San Francisco garage-rock scene of the late 2000s. He emerged from the same circle as Ty Segall, John Dwyer (Oh Sees), Tim Presley (White Fence), and numerous other Bay Area songwriters who were largely defined by their insatiable creative appetites.


To give some perspective, Cronin participated in five different bands between 2005 and 2010. In the five years that followed, he released three albums as well as a handful of EPs under his own name, while also networking with on a bevy of assignments. In the time since his last Mikal Cronin record, 2015's MCIII, he's played on at least 11 other albums, six of which were written by the dizzyingly prolific Segall.


Nevertheless Cronin’s kept busy with session work and touring in Segall’s backing musical group (dubbed the Freedom Musical group, the last few years have been tough for him personally — and in turn, creatively. His long-awaited fourth album, Seeker (out October 25 through the Merge), was both informed and delayed by relationship turbulence, depression, getting priced out of San Francisco, and myriad other early thirties lifestyle changes that culminated into a frustrating bout of writer's block, a condition that's rare within his ceaselessly efficient community.


"Each record is sort of like a purge of a creative idea," the soft-spoken Cronin mentioned throughout a telephone call with MTV News. "So right after that last big idea, things weren't coming with each other as well. I was having a hard time writing. Depression sort of makes it hard to write as well as makes it hard to be happy with anything you're creating. And not being creative sort of leads to getting depressed for me, because that's my main thing."


Right after MCIII, the most maximalist of his three-album run of sprightly, psych-y power-pop, Cronin knew that he wanted to switch up his approach. Yet he appreciates the Pet Sounds-esque contrast between chipper songs and gloomy lyrics, he felt that it was time for him to explore a darker sound altogether. "There's been some dark years, [so] it sort of made sense," he mentioned. "Honestly, the years just flew by. Life keeps on happening and tours sort of speed up time it seems... In case you don't pay attention, all the sudden, it's next year, and also you feel like you haven't made also much progress creatively, or in life and stuff."


That bewilderment with the speed of life, and why challenging it is to create sense of experiences any time the present quickly becomes the past, is a major through-line on Seeker. "I took the long way round the side road / Leaving time to look around / I even got a good impression / And got the hell out of this town," he sings while in the stormy initial track, "Shelter." The portion of that line about leaving "this town" is both metaphorical and literal. In one sense, Cronin's transplant to L.A. And his choice to quit drinking yielded a fresh perspective on life. Yet Cronin also physically confined himself to a cabin in rural California for a creative retreat that spurred most of the record.


“It was certainly an experiment,” he mentioned. “I was very worried about not getting anything done yet it turned out well, I got a lot done. Just getting away from distractions.”


With just his cat along with a boatload of demo tools, Cronin spent nearly a month up in the mountains of Idyllwild just peacefully writing and self-recording the bulk of Seeker. The plan was to spend four full weeks working diligently, yet a massive wildfire ended up cutting his trip several days short.


"Three-and-a-half weeks in, I woke up one morning and the sky was orange and filled with smoke," he mentioned. "And then I saw the flames coming up over the ridge. It had been a really intense fire season for California, there were some pretty devastating fires. This one was an arsonist who began the fire in Idyllwild, which is insane... It was sort of astonishing and dramatic once it happened. Yet I just had to speedily pack up my studio of demo gear and grab my cat and went home."


"I did not have to stand out of the second story window to avoid the flames or anything like that," he continued. Nevertheless it felt pretty fucking close."


Once Cronin returned to L.A., He became obsessed with the idea of fire, specifically the reconstructive qualities of such a destructive phenomenon. He started to be able to see the tumult, and subsequent reconfiguration, of his own life in the flicker of the proverbial flames.


"Like, [fire's] organic place in the world as far as a cleansing process, like a forest or shrubbery," he mentioned. "It certainly catches aflame and drops its seeds and begins over again. The parallel of destructive, hectic turbulent life things — it just seemed like the metaphor was there. I could visualize the parallels between a forest fire and just living out my late twenties, early thirties."


In the ashes of his artsy awakening, he determined to bring the most dependable constant of these whirlwind years onto the record: the Freedom Musical group. Unlike his previous solo records, for which he played nearly every musical instrument, he had the musical group he's been touring with for years (which includes Segall on bass) along with a handful of other California musicians accompany him in the studio to live-track the complete record. As a result, Seeker sounds significantly grander, richer, and more instrumentally eye catching than any of his previous releases — while also retaining the intended murkiness. And due to the unspoken musical chemistry they developed while playing Segall's songs, the particular recording process was incredibly smooth.


"We play so well with each other that it was going to be the simplistic transition. It's pretty different music, style-wise. Nevertheless they're very interchangeable as a musical group and as musicians overall so I knew it could be a good fit," he mentioned. "And they killed it, they did a really fantastic job. I'm lucky to have those people around to work with and play with."


He remarked that just being in the same proximity as someone as prolific as Segall was inspirational in and of itself. "Ty and Dwyer, they write fast and so they work so fast. They just get things out there. Along with a lot of my other companions are actively recording and releasing records, too."


"It certainly lights a fire under your ass to have companions like that," he added, fire evidently still on his mind. Immediately after escaping a mighty blaze in the woods and harnessing that power into his latest music, how could it not be?