On May 5th, Philadelphia-based multi-instrumentalist Dave Hartley, best known as the bass guitarist of indie rock titans The War on Drugs, will release I Can Feel the Night Around Me, his excellent third studio album under the moniker Nightlands, on Western Vinyl.

Meticulously recorded over a year at The War on Drugs' rehearsal space, the album is a beautifully-crafted gathering of hazy synth-pop jams, featuring contributions from his War on Drugs bandmates, alongside other noted collaborators, including prolific harpist Mary Lattimore and multi-instrumentalist Frank LoCrasto.

Speaking to The Reprise over a cup of morning coffee at his Fishtown home, Hartley discussed the all-encompassing process of writing and recording an album, the Nightlands live band, and his enduring love of The Beach Boys' lesser known creative peaks.

It's been over four years since the release the last Nightlands album, Oak Island. How does it feel to be on the cusp of releasing your third studio album and are you excited for what lies ahead?

Yeah, it's been a while! It's funny, because this is my third record, and after the first, and after the second, I sort of thought to myself, 'Oh, man. I don't know if I'll ever do another record.' Every time, it's a painful process; it's so immersive. I just go really deep on it. Some people just kind of crap stuff out, but I don't do that. It feels like I've made each record ten times [over]. Each one took over a year [to record], and then I've toured on each one. I then get sucked into a bunch of touring with The War on Drugs, and then as [that] touring goes on, it replenishes my desire to make another Nightlands record.

So, part of me right now... I'm super proud of my new record, for sure, but part of me thinks that this is the last one I'll make, and that I'll move on to new musical projects. I know, though, that as soon as I'm back out playing shows, and playing bass [in The War on Drugs], a year from now, I'll start itching to make a new record. I'm in part of that cycle of birth and regeneration; death and rebirth. I'm making it sound more dramatic than it is! It's the life cycle of your creative power, and, right now, what I'm trying to do is figure out how to bring this album to the stage.

Who's currently performing in the live Nightlands band and helping you with that process?

It's really such a sweet band! There's my friend Eliza Hardy Jones, who has pretty much always played in Nightlands. She plays with a bunch of people; she was in a band called Buried Beds, a classic Philly band, and she went on to play with Strand of Oaks and Grace Potter. She's sort of all over the map, and a very personable musician. She's helped me put all of this together.

Also, [The War on Drugs guitarist] Anthony LaMarca. Do you know his music? He's opening the tour, and also drumming with Nightlands. He's just such an amazing player. I met him through Nightlands, and that's how he got involved in The War on Drugs. Over the years, I've played with him more and more, and I'm just so in touch with him [in terms of] musical sensitivity; he's one of the most humble musicians.

Then there's my friend Jesse Hale Moore, who has a burgeoning solo career in his own right. He is a phenomenal, phenomenal singer, and if you listen to the record, I'm sure you can tell there are just so many vocal harmonies that I need all hands on deck! My friend Scott Churchman is playing bass, and I've never actually had a bass player before, which is sort of funny.

I guess it must be funny having another bass player on stage, when traditionally that's your role within The War on Drugs.

Yeah, for sure! I mean, on the first record I didn't put any bass on there. I think, subconsciously, I was trying to do something that I hadn't done before, you know? As a result, there wasn't any bass in the live show, and then, on the second record, I just wanted it more stripped down. So, I've got my friend Scott [now], who is just this shredding bass player that plays fretless [bass] really well. He actually plays with Chubby Checker.

Sweet!

Yeah, I know! He's a young guy, and Chubby is like eighty and still tours! He gets younger musicians to play with him live, so Scott's day job is shredding the bass with Chubby, but he's eager to do [Nightlands], and I'm happy to have him. That's the band. We've just finished a bunch of rehearsals and it's sounding pretty amazing!

You noted that it took over a year to record the album. When did you first start writing the material that would become I Can Feel the Night Around Me? Were you working on the songs while still on tour with The War on Drugs?

Yeah, a little bit. If I had a week off, I would do a little bit of exploratory writing and recording, but it didn't start, in earnest, until the last Drugs album cycle was over. I'm not the kind of person that can sit in the back lounge of the tour bus with an acoustic guitar. I think part of it is that, when I'm playing bass [in The War on Drugs] with Adam [Granduciel], Charlie [Hall], Robbie [Bennett], Anthony and Jon [Natchez], I'm just so immersed in that project. It's like my whole being becomes that; it becomes focused on being in this great American rock n' roll band, and I'm not making a solo album in my mind. It's only when the dust settles, and I'm like, 'Oh Shit! I've got a year and a half off right now.' Everybody goes their separate ways, and you get into your routine; you wake up in the morning, you get coffee, you listen to some music, and your mind is free to roam, and that's when the juices get flowing. I pretty much write when I get home. I actually got married right as the last Drugs album was wrapping up, and as soon as we stopped touring, my life kind of settled into this nice, domestic, creative groove.

Congratulations! That's incredible news. Did this new-found domestic groove end up influencing your songwriting in any way? What music were you listening to at this time?

I think sharing music with the person you live with is a really cool and special thing. You know, I still listen to music on my headphones, and in my car, but that's more just for me. When you're living with someone, you find these albums that become the connective tissue of your relationship. We have music on in our house all the time. We listen to a lot of Paul Simon, tons of Brazilian music, Georgie Benson, and The Beach Boys, who are a constant presence in my life.

I've read that you're a huge fan of The Beach Boys' lesser-known albums, and as a fellow Beach Boys obsessive, I was wondering which albums you consider to be their most underrated?

[1968's] Friends is probably my favourite ever. I mean, it's hard to compare it to Pet Sounds, which is this towering [piece of work], but that album has been so explored that the mystery is sort of gone a little bit, and it's a bit like Sgt. Pepper's. I think it's a masterpiece, but there's something about Friends that is so fascinating to me. I think part of it is the decline of Brian [Wilson]; he's sort of sitting in the back at this stage, and that album is so out of step with what was happening musically at that time. You think about the counter culture, the civil unrest, psychedelia... all these things happening in America at that time, and The Beach Boys make this album that's almost super delusionally happy. Songs, like "Anna Lee, the Healer" and "Little Bird", they're so fairy tale, nursery-rhyme-happy, that they almost sound surreal; it's like the songs are psychedelic in a reverse-psychology kind of way. I think that one is probably my favourite; it's pretty invincible straight through. But, you know, all of the albums from Wild Honey and Sunflower [through to] Surf's Up and Holland - which has some moments! Pretty much anything from that era when Carl Wilson was taking the reigns of the band.

I've always been fascinated with the overall psychology and mythology of The Beach Boys, and you're right, you have these distinctly different eras of the band where different members take the reigns to varying degrees of success. It makes the lesser-known Beach Boys albums a fascinating listen.

I agree. I think a lot of people actually check-out because it just becomes so scattered. You have other guys coming in like [long-time Beach Boy] Bruce Johnston, who wrote amazing songs. You have that guy, Blondie Chaplin; he was only there for, like, a year, but was a huge part of [1973's] "Sail On, Sailor", which is this super towering song in their canon. He was almost like an interloper, who came through the band for a while. It's the most fascinating thing. If you were to chart out the web of The Beach Boys, it starts with Brian, and then it spiders out: you have Charles Manson, and then you have NBA players [Mike Love's nephew Kevin Love]. It just gets so tangled, so quickly. I could talk about that all day!