NYC singer-songwriter Paul Dally is a master of his craft who for some reason is slept on by the Pitchforks of the world. Maybe this is the year. Maybe it doesn't matter!

New album Vagrant Vista is way off in its own world, nailing a modern throwback vibe. It's a mid-length project that goes down easy, composed of moderately twanged out rock n roll, with a sprinkling of harsh/ambient movie music. My record store clerk description: Tunnel of Love as produced by Oneohtrix Point Never. Familiar and trippy.

I've been following Dally for ten years and feel like this might be his most focused, career-best work. He has meandered along his path, but his baritone voice has stayed consistently unreal and for new listeners, I'd say start here.

On the phone he was chill, drinking a beer in his apartment in Manhattan as we talked the album and music in general. Please read our edited convo below–and/or simply listen to Vagrant Vista, the main point of why I’m writing this <3.

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Can you talk a little about your time at Tacoma School of the Arts, a decade ago?

I was going to Vashon High School and my dad helped me soundproof the garage, and I had gotten a Tascam four-track for Christmas, and I had a drum set, and a guitar, and that’s how I fell in love with songwriting. Then I find out when I’m a sophomore there’s this public arts high school in Tacoma, and I applied, but you have to do all three years. So I repeated that year in order to go to that school.

There’s a lot to talk about. There was a lot of us. I was in a band with Dylan Treleven and Brandt Dettling and Orlando McCray. I mean there’s so many people. Brad Oberhofer went to that school and we’re still in touch and talk about music sometimes. Ben Roth went to that school and he worked on the record and we talk about music still. Shayne Weeks went to that school and he did the animation that’s kind of like the mascot for this record. The main thing, there was a songwriting class at the school.

The songwriting program was taught by Paul Eliot, and he and another guitar teacher on Vashon, Daryl Redeker, were gurus for me. And saw something in me I didn’t see for myself.

Did you take a boat to go to school?

Yeah my sister and I would wake up early, get on a public bus, get on a boat that went from the south part of the island to Tacoma. Which a lot of times was rainy and gray but sometimes was clear and you could see Mount Rainier, and these beautiful sunrises. I still have dreams about that moment.

Sounds perfect.

Yeah, pretty idyllic. Privilege for sure. So I wrote that song “Skin” in 2008, that’s on the new record. It’s partly about leaving that idyllic scene and entering reality. That charmed life, eventually the fragileness of it will break in reality.

Your new website is really cool, seems like a great resource for corralling everything you’ve done over the past ten years. When you were putting it together, did you have any overarching realizations about your work or career?

The thing that jumps to my mind is money. I’ve been able to save and invest in the work. I always had this romantic idea that it was only the quality of the artist and their expression, and quality didn’t rely heavily on the tools. But now that I’m able to hire someone to master the record, or buy a $50 digital reverb thing, I see that ultimately it gives people who don’t want something unpolished or vulnerable more of an opportunity to experience your work. So to answer your question, it’s the different level of production.

Is Vagrant Vista your most expensive work?

For sure. Ever.

Is it a culmination of your powers?

Not at all. It’s the shiniest golden ticket I’ve ever made, to get to people I need to meet, to realize the best potential of myself. The best work I’ll make before I die, I’m guessing hasn’t been made yet. I have a lot of things floating in my head; that well has been overflowing my whole life. I’ve never been able to match the ideas. I’m trying to get to that. This is an investment in that trajectory. It’s a way of getting to someone who has magic at their disposal to think, that’s something I want to be part of. And they wouldn’t trust me if they hadn’t heard it. That’s how I convince myself to invest in my work.

It’s a resume.

Yeah it’s a resume, yeah I guess it is.

Do you have a philosophy of vocal takes? Like first take best take, or anything like that? Do you punch in? I’m impressed by your vocal performances, they’re really personality-packed.

That’s great to hear. Most of them are one take. But not necessarily the first take. I do agree that a lot of times the first take is the best take. If it’s not, maybe you have to come back and pretend you’re doing the first take again. Sometimes I record and I’m a little wasted. And that makes me sing with more authenticity or something that comes across that way, or maybe just confidence. And maybe I sort of sing accidentally with a lisp sometimes. But I don’t punch in that much. I like the idea of it being one thing.

What do you drink?

In quarantine I was drinking vodka. I’m drinking a beer right now. I like a fine cocktail but not all the time. I’m not opposed to it.

Do you start songs with lyrics first? Any favorite lyrics on this album?

OK what happens to me a lot, and if any songwriters happen to be reading this, give this a shot: If you’re a songwriter you maybe have a lot of voice memos, or maybe you take notes on your phone, but if certain words pop into your head, don’t even think about it. Turn your editor off and just sing. Almost every time that’s the beginning of a song. Doesn’t mean it’s a good song. But that gets the whole ball rolling. At that point I ask myself questions, like who is this person? What does this mean? To answer your question exactly, my favorite line is in “Kimmy Rolla,” “I was drinking drive-through daiquiris with the girl of your daddy’s dreams.”

So good!

The alliteration is cool cuz it’s so tongue in cheek and literary and stupid. As a songwriter I look into every single detail more than any listener would, I imagine. If someone wanted to dedicate themselves to the work, even in an unhealthy way, there would be material there for them in the vessel of the song.

Another lyric I like is on “Jackpot,” it sounds like you’re riffing. That song is unusual for how it goes in an arc and doesn’t repeat, it just keeps building. But I love when you say “in my prime” on that. You’re singing about hoping to hit the jackpot, and it sounds like maybe you’re singing about people who are dreaming of being rich. But then you sing that and it’s like, well, what if it’s someone who really wants to see what they could do, before they lose what they have? It’s not necessarily that the jackpot is all they have. Maybe that person is also feeling themselves, and thinking, I just really want to get in the ring and prove myself.

That’s a really cool interpretation. But I was also thinking about maybe billionaires in their 80s. We all have three things in common, we’re born, we’re conscious, and we die. Doesn’t matter if you hit the jackpot or not. A handful of people tell me they think that’s a love song, and I’m critiquing capitalism, and the real jackpot is love. And that’s not wrong. But I was writing about gettin’ rich. The feeling of getting rich, the endorphins of hitting the jackpot, is an entirely different thing than zeros in your bank account. That’s why the coda is so long, and the character repeats himself so much, like he’s seduced or hypnotized.

That resonates with me from working in fashion. There’s an aspect to the time of the year when people shop for vacation: few people are actually going on vacation, but the feeling of seeing jpegs of beaches and buying a swimsuit is powerful.

All that shit is so depraved and rich with story. There’s a uniquely American version of it and I’m attracted to all that.

The selling of dreams.

Yeah.

How has COVID been for you?

This record wouldn’t exist without COVID. No way. I wouldn’t have had time to make work like this otherwise. I’m an introvert and I like being in but I know it’s not good, so when nobody could go out, I just like turned the faucet on. And I got another one, almost ready to go. It’s a confused, complex blessing.

What’s your favorite music lately? What have you been listening to this fall?

My most recent listens are Young Thug, Power Trip, Drexciya, The Gap Band, Don Gibson, Mink Deville, Oneohtrix Point Never, Richard and Linda Thompson, Fela Kuti, Beethoven. Oh have you ever heard of this French dude Jacques Dutronc?

Never listened to him.

He’s cool. Oh, also, what’s up with Dean Blunt? He’s cool. And Charlie Crockett. And I’m always listening to Lucinda Williams and Nina Simone.

I brought your music up to a friend today and he was like, this reminds me of Spike Fuck. Ever heard of Spike Fuck? I think it’s apt, I think you could put you two on a mixtape next to each other.

I’m listening to it now. I love Alan Vega, and Suicide, but the solo stuff is really trashy in a good way. This almost has that vibe. I’m seeing this song “Tomorrow We Get Healthy,” and around 115bpm there’s a 1-4 progression maybe, and I can already tell, OK the lyrics are some wild shit, and the voice is cool, I’m going to like this.

I was describing your record as Bruce Springsteen’s Tunnel of Love if Oneohtrix Point never made it. The drum beats and atmosphere, highway romanticism, then mixed in with these tone poems.

That’s really cool. But my insecurity or attempt at being humble won’t believe that to be true. I really love that song OPN did with Iggy Pop. That’s why I like Lucinda Williams or Nina Simone, same as Iggy Pop, it’s like they open their mouth and it’s just raw humanity.

Last question: Got a Mt. Rushmore of songwriters?

Lucinda Williams, Iggy Pop, Nina Simone, John Prine. And you have to add Lou Reed.