Photo by Jason Rodgers

Not many artists can say they’ve had a career as prolific and evolutionary within a decade’s time like Shamir has. And that’s all been had by the time he reached 30. It’s not to say that it’s been a road paved smoothly for the fiercely indie polymath either. In 2015, he was anointed properly as a breakthrough house-pop prince behind the buzz of his debut album, Ratchet, on indie mega label, XL Recordings (note: his 2014 North Town EP was actually better because it was less slickly manicured and hinted at some of those non-dance music eccentricities that would come.) Shamir wasn’t in it for the money or to become someone else’s stage prop production, however, and so he broke out of the mainstream indie shackles and achieved true autonomy in one of this generation’s most intriguing run of albums that have shape-shifted into sounds more raw and tendril as well as punk, industrial, country, and alternative pop that can only be described as resoundingly Shamir.

That road has led to Ten, the songwriter’s purported final solo album as he retires from this world. What’s different on this swan song, however, is that the swan songs aren’t entirely his. It’s a poetic conclusion in a way where the circle comes full on a career that began with other people’s visions for him do so once again, except this time, it’s entirely on his terms. Written alongside a cast of close friends old and new, this collection of songs gravitate toward his DIY indie rock and steeped country traditionalism roots. Although other hands were behind its pen, you’ll find that you can hardly tell considering these kindred creative spirits also gravitated toward one another at some point in life for a reason.

+rcmndedlisten connected with Shamir (who should be noted has been a day one of supporting of this site since “If It Wasn’t True” dropped…) and did its best to discuss a career that has involved more twists and turns which these pages can do justice getting into, a surprising reason behind his retirement from recording music, how he went about writing Ten with his friends, and whether or not he’d do any of it all over again.

+rl: Your transformation from a tastemaker-acclaimed major indie label dance-pop breakout to an anti-industry independent songwriter who has stylistically reinvented themselves in varying degrees of darkness and light makes you kind of like the Scott Walker of this generation. Do you see yourself in a similar light?

Shamir: Yes, I very much embrace the Scott Walker comparison. I was really pissed off because I didn’t know about Scott Walker until he died, and when I did my research on him I was like, “There are parallels here.” I was angry because the media spent so long lazily comparing me to Prince, when I think my career very much resembled Scott Walker’s more, but you know… I look more like Prince and less like Scott.

+rl: My favorite thing about body of work is how you’ve always been able to navigate a genre agnostic approach to songwriting, but here, the art of playing other people’s songs is very much steeped in country and folk traditionalism. You’ve dabbled in country in the past, and I’d say that Ten — aside from blown-out indie-pop rockers that aptly carry on the Kill Rock Stars torch — is arguably your most country album to date. Did you intentionally approach styling the songs your friends had written onto that ear?

Shamir: No, I just think I’ve stopped holding back my country instincts since I’ve been playing in a Bluegrass band. That’s one of the reasons I’m retiring. I got tired of going out of my way to not do country. I also didn’t want to have to go thru a whole other sonic/genre change, so I just tapped out all together. 

+rl: The press release for Ten mentions that the songs we hear on Ten are “turning their words into something uniquely his.” I found that kind of a heady thing to wrap myself around while listening to the album, because for example, on its naked piano conclusion, “29”, there’s this one line about not wanting to cry over boys with pink-haired, and that is so very much a Shamir-ism. You mentioned elsewhere that you didn’t want your friends attempting to write Shamir songs, but did this approach to recording come with any further realizations as to how your shared experiences made that inevitable?

Shamir: Well, that’s one of the reasons why I didn’t want them to write songs specifically for me. It’s a birds of a feather type thing. I’m very close to my friends and we’re bonded by similar life experiences. I had ZERO worry about being able to find myself in these songs. Sizzy Rocket, who wrote “29”, is also from Las Vegas. The song was originally called “25”. That’s the only lyric I change.

+rl: Your songwriting co-conspirator, bandmate, and bud Grant Pavol wrote “I Know We Can’t Be Friends” while your Accidental Popstar alums Paige Pleger delivered the climactic ballad “Recording 291” as Drew Harmon from Like St. Joan gave us “I Love My friends” and “Neverwannago”. Torres came to you with “I Don’t Know What You Want From Me” Can you fill in the blanks as to who else contributed to your community effort?

Shamir: Poolblood (also Accidental Popstar alum) wrote “Pin”. “Offline” is by Australian kind and my adoptive father, Ben Lee. “Die” was co-written by artist Myylo with writer/producer Matt Parad. “Golden” was written by South African artist Moonga K and my frequent collaborator Justin Tailor. 

+rl: A lot of people probably don’t know this, but there actually is a nod to your Brooklyn underground, Godmode Music scene past on this album, but you have to look for it outside the album — Dale Eisinger, drummer of YVETTE and currently of Kareem Rahma’s Tiny Gun, wrote the album’s bio. I found that to be a very fitting way to tie in that distant chapter of your life with its goodbye bookend without needing to give listeners one last dance track that probably would have felt more like an inauthentic, gimmicky performance at this stage. Which underground success stories are you most happy to see have stepped into the space you left open upon exiting your Ratchet era?

Shamir: Firstly, Dale is a good friend and wrote my previous two bios. He’s just a brilliant writer. I think the BK underground is much different than I remember so I’m too removed to say who’s doing anything that resembles what I did 10 years ago, but I think YHWH Nailgun is cool.

+rl: Finally, after living many lives in just the past decade, if you could live your music career out all over again in any era, which do you think would have been the best suited for your spirit, or do you think you were born right where you were supposed to be in it?

Shamir: Yeah, I wouldn’t relive any of that (LOL). Every era was painful in different ways. My best years are ahead of me for sure!

Shamir’s Ten is available now on Kill Rock Stars.