On his second record, Eli Korwin sounds like a person who has finally stopped negotiating with the song. He grew up in a small Pennsylvania town that most people drive past on their way to somewhere louder, and the new album is the first one in which he has stopped pretending he came from anywhere else. He plays a half-finished song on his phone for me twice. The second time, he closes his eyes.
You came up writing in coffee shops. Is that still where the songs start?
Mostly. I tried to upgrade to a desk once. I had a beautiful chair. I bought it. I sat in it. I did not write anything good for two months. I sold the chair. The coffee shops do not care about me, and that is what they are useful for.
Track seven on the record — the slow one — you tried to cut twice. Why is it on there?
Because it would not leave. I would mix the rest of the record and then it would be back in the folder the next morning. At some point you have to admit that the song has more opinions than you do. I admitted it. It went on.
A lot of the new songs are about your hometown. Have you been back recently?
Once. I drove past my old high school. I did not stop. I am not ready to write that song yet. I am ready to write the song where I drive past it and do not stop. That song is on the record.
There is a quiet in the production that feels deliberate.
It is. My producer kept saying "what if we did nothing here." I kept saying "we are already doing nothing." We would both laugh and then she would do less. By the end I think she had un-produced about thirty per cent of the record. It is the best decision either of us made.
You wrote down a phrase on the inside of your lyric notebook. You will not say what it is.
No. I will not. I should keep something for myself. I will tell you it is six words long. I will tell you I have looked at it every day for two years. That is all.
What is the worst song advice you have ever been given?
"Make it big at the chorus." I understand why people say it. It is also a great way to make a song that nobody will play twice.