The first day Tegan and Sara entered the studio with producer Greg Kurstin, they knew that their new album, Heartthrob, would sound unlike anything they'd made in the past. "We were working on this song, 'Now I'm All Messed Up,'" Tegan Quin tells Rolling Stone. "It was originally a piano ballad and he just went crazy with all this bass-and-drum programming. I was like, 'Well, we can't really go back from this now. This is a power ballad.'"
The duo have spent the last decade earning credibility on the indie circuit – but this time around, they want to sell records. "We did have to make a conscious effort to make our record sonically more smooth and pleasing," says Tegan. "We have a huge back catalog of guitar-driven music, and the idea of just making another guitar-driven record seemed boring."
The result is the most commercial record of their career, and Tegan and Sara hope it'll introduce them to a new audience. Rolling Stone talked with the twins sisters about making the record, why they decided this was the time to broaden their sound and how they got over their vicious sibling rivalry. They hate doing interviews together, since they tend to talk all over each other, so we spoke to them separately.
It's been a few years since your last album. Is that something you planned, or was the break more organic?
I think it was more organic. As the time started to add up, we realized that we could take what we had written and go back into the studio and sort of bang another record out, but there was no need. We also didn't have that nervousness of, "Oh, jeez, we have all this momentum; we should really just sort of capitalize on it." We felt like we had put in a ton of work between The Con and Sainthood. We did those two albums back-to-back and toured back-to-back, and we thought people maybe needed a break, anyways.
The time off was really nice. We were able to do some collaboration stuff with other bands and we were able to do this DVD that we put out. And then, instead of just taking the first batch of songs we wrote and making a record out of them, we were able to have a few batches of writing that we were able to pull multiple songs from and eventually start to accumulate what we thought were the best songs we had written.
This was really the first time since I got out of high school in 1998 when I was like, "I'm just going to fucking chill for a minute and see what happens."
You really have a new sound on this album. How did you decide it was time to mix it up like that?
This was a deliberate choice. We didn't want to take a small step. We wanted to take a big step. We felt like we closed out our decade with Sainthood. We turned 30 at the end of that album and we had officially been in the industry making music professionally for a decade. This is the time to say, "What is Tegan and Sara now? What is the future gonna look like for this band?"
Some of the answers were really boring. We are very literal people. We went through numbers: "How much do we want to sell? What kind of venues do we want to play? What's our dream size of venue? What countries do we want to play that we haven't played before?" We took all that information and said to ourselves, "OK, we can't make another record that sounds like what people expect from Tegan and Sara. We can make a record that maybe marries what we've done with the band in the past and then work with a producer who is going to help us embellish and sort of amp up the sound a bit."
I honestly didn't know what to expect from this process. Tegan and I work extensively, independently on our own, writing and creating full demos with bass drums, programming, the whole thing. We're used to keeping a little bit of that, and adding other musicians into it.
Within a day or two in the studio with Greg Kurstin, I was like, "Oh my God, this is amazing." It was very obvious he wasn't going to take gentle, slow steps towards something. He was just going to throw it out. If we didn't like it, he would throw it out, but he wasn't going to fool around.
Are you worried about how your fans are going to react to the poppier sound of the album?
We've learned to sort of put our fans into a couple of different categories. There's sort of the general fan, and this is somebody who maybe would see us once out of every three times we come to a city; maybe they'll see us at a festival and run over to the stage and go, "I'm a huge fan!" But they didn't, like, buy our last two records, so like they're a general fan. Maybe they're into a couple of songs. That's a huge majority of people that listen to most bands. Most people are casual music listeners.
Then there's the really intense fan. That's the person who knows everything about your catalog, they have every B-side, they have all your DVDs, they're on the message boards, they are sort of like your bread and butter, they are always there with you, they buy the tickets first. Those are the people that I worry won't like anything we do ever again because they are so committed and devoted to what you've already done. It's very challenging to ask them to like something new.
We have to trust that we are truly aware and know best. And if you lose some people, I think it's natural and I think it's also natural to gain other people.
Do you think any of these songs could work on mainstream Top 40 radio?
The emotional, normal, average person just listening to the radio, knowing what I know about the music industry kind of person, says no, I can't possibly imagine how this can work. Even the business part of me and the part of me who has the knowledge that we've been getting adds all over America for the last two months in places that we've never been played before, like KROQ in Los Angeles. In 13 years, they've never played us and now they're playing "Closer," so there's evidence to prove that I'm wrong.
And yet there's still a huge part of me that finds it very difficult to imagine myself amongst those people on the radio. I don't see them as my peers. I see them at rock stars or pop stars. And I think we're always going to be marginalized into this indie-rock or underground or left-of-center kind of world. But then, I see myself on playlists with the biggest pop stars and rock bands in the world.
I want to be on the radio. I think it's a fun accomplishment after seven albums to have a song played on the radio. And it's sort of thrilling and exciting in all the cliché ways to hear your song on the radio and you think, "Holy shit, I'm on the radio." It's awesome.
Do you worry that a big hit might change things? Devo built up years and years of credibility before "Whip It," but as soon as that song hit big, they were pretty much through.
If you had told us at the beginning of our career that it would take this long to achieve this much success, I don't know if I would have been willing to go through it all. It is a lot. We've been working hard for 13 years. There was a lot of ups and downs. Even if you sort of look at it on paper, there was an upwards trajectory, [but] it didn't always feel that way.
We really built a thick skin and built our own audience and learned everything we possibly could about the business. And I feel like if there's a time to weather a big pop single, it certainly wasn't before now. If we're meant to have the kind of success that a big pop single would bring, then I think that we're probably the most capable and the most qualified we've ever been at dealing with it.
Are you willing to put your music in commercials and TV shows and all the things it takes to get a hit these days?
I'm not afraid of placements and being co-branded with cars or computers and all those things. I think that the part of me that has a problem with it is also the part of me that thinks that cellphones and the Internet suck and that I really miss the Nineties. I think the times have changed and to take a hard line about not being in a commercial feels incredibly contradictory to what I mostly spend my life doing, which is essentially walking around as a brand. I use a certain phone, a certain computer; I make my albums using certain programs.
I feel like marketing and advertising has become complicated for bands and if you can't rely on MTV anymore to play your video and if you're not getting pop radio play then yeah, you start looking for certain alternatives.
The history of siblings working together in bands isn't great. I could name you 10 examples where it ended in absolute disaster. It seems like you're proving that rule wrong through. Am I wrong?
We hit a breaking point in 2006 when we were touring The Con. I was able to step back and look at what we had already accomplished, and I thought, "Here we are, literally at blows with each other backstage. We are verbally abusing each other to no end. This is unhealthy." On the other hand, I realized we'd never killed each other and we do have the same goals. I started to think of our relationship as being successful instead of being difficult.
This is getting a bit deep, but around age 10 or 11, our relationship became challenged. We got competitive. We were fighting. We chose different social circles and different friends. Since that age, I associated shame with my relationship with Tegan. We just couldn't get it together. We were being mean to each other. We physically beat each other up after school. I felt embarrassed at that conflict.
Now, I think it's the easiest time in our relationship since we were kids. We're really good at being in this band. We're really good at getting through conflict. We are actually quite accomplished at negotiating and compromising and not holding it against each other. And the more I started to think of our relationship as a success and less as a dysfunctional fuck-fest, I was basically like. "Yeah, sometimes I do want to punch Tegan, but 99.9 times out of 100, I don't."
I suppose it's a pretty complex relationship when you need to make business decisions and artistic decisions with your twin sister.
Weirdly, I'm not sure that I could do this with another person who wasn't my sibling. There's an unconditional sort of primal connection that I have to Tegan. It's sort of schizophrenic; sometimes I feel like I'm in a band with me twice. Like, I feel like Tegan is another external me and I'm in a band with her and I trust her implicitly and I feel like she couldn't hurt me or take from me in the way that any normal person probably could.
People are always baffled by our relationship. They see two people seem so indignant and hateful and then an hour later, we're laughing and eating chips and watching TV. I always say to people that if the band was my vision or the band was Tegan's vision, they would be entirely different bands. It truly is the compromise between us that creates this band.
Look, a lot of the songs we've had the most success with – "Walking With a Ghost," "Back in Your Head" or "Alligator" – they've been my songs. People always ask if we compete with each other. Our band has always been a 100 percent 50-50 split. We split everything; even if I go out and write a song with somebody for their project, Tegan and I still split everything 50-50. And I never wanted Tegan to not get what I was gonna get. It's something that goes very, very much back to a very deep childhood place. She was the most important person to me, and probably at some point developmentally, I couldn't even detach she was something separate from me.
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