Photo by Kevin Westenberg

We're used to seeing Philip Selway behind a range of drums and cymbals as the unswerving and inventive back beat to Radiohead. But on his forthcoming solo album, Familial, Selway steps away from the kit, singing and playing acoustic guitar on 10 hushed folk songs in the shadowy tradition of Nick Drake. The album is quiet, but there's an unnerving sense of dread that connects the material to his main gig; it's music for a foreboding twilight. Guests including Wilco's Glenn Kotche and Pat Sansone, and veteran singer-songwriter Lisa Germano. (The album's out on August 31 in the UK via Bella Union and a day later in the U.S. through Nonesuch.)

We recently met up with Selway at a posh downtown Manhattan hotel. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a view of some rare NYC greenery outside. Inside, the drummer/singer/songwriter was thoughtfully polite and casual in a fuschia t-shirt and brightly striped socks that could've been on loan from a pre-teen's dresser. He talked about what it feels like to be the guy answering all the questions for once:

Pitchfork: How long have you wanted to do your own record?

Philip Selway: I've been playing guitar and writing songs since I was 15 but I started really thinking about making an album around four years ago. But I didn't know I'd sing on it; I didn't feel I had a convincing voice at that point. It took four years of trial and error to find out the stretches I could make. It's a bit of a leap of faith. The first time I actually heard my voice coming back in the studio was when I thought, "OK, maybe I can do this." Even so, you do feel very vulnerable. When you're singing, it sounds a particular way in your mind-- like how you think your speaking voice sounds like James Earl Jones in your head but it's really more like Mickey Mouse. [laughs]

Pitchfork: Do you feel like listening to Thom Yorke live and in the studio made it easier or harder for you to feel comfortable singing?

PS: Both. It's a very high bar to have hanging over you. But, over the years, everybody has very much developed their own voice in what we do.

Pitchfork: Another surprising thing about your album is how little drumming is on it.

PS: And the drumming that is on there is mostly by [Wilco's] Glenn Kotche. He's fantastic. He took drum parts and mixed in all these delicate layers which throw things off kilter. For me, if Jonny [Greenwood] played drums, he'd be Glenn. They work in very similar ways. It was a revelation working with Glenn on the material because, in my mind, I hadn't heard any drum parts on these songs at all. If you're working on more of a muted, delicate level, it's very easy to end up sounding too tasteful, so finding somebody who could scuff up these really rich sounds was great. I just sat there with my notebook.

Pitchfork: What really drew me into the album were the disquieting, atmospheric touches you're talking about, which make the record more than a singer-songwriter-type thing. I also feel like that slight creepiness offers a continuity with your work with Radiohead. How much did you think about that off kilter element?

PS: Quite a lot, actually. Because I knew if I over-prettified the songs it'd be really precious or saccharine. And, lyrically, that's not what's going on.

Pitchfork: Yeah, like "The Ties That Bind" seems to be about hoping your son doesn't make the same mistakes you did. Do you feel you've made a lot of mistakes that way?