Q&A: 'Springs Eternal' Showcases The Resilient Journey of Harmless
LOS ANGELES-BASED ARTIST HARMLESS, BORN NACHO CANO IN MEXICO CITY, returns with his new album and the wait has been well worth it. Springs Eternal, Harmless' first full-length album in nine years, is out now. The hiatus stemmed from a life-altering hit-and-run. The album explores themes of acceptance, reconciliation, and revisits his teenage dreams of musical stardom.
Recorded in his home studio, Springs Eternal captures Harmless' artistic vision. The album was mixed within a tight nine-day timeframe, reflecting a deliberate attempt to recapture the creative spirit of his youth.
Harmless' music is deeply personal, drawing inspiration from his wife, his experiences as an artist and immigrant, and the ongoing impact of the hit-and-run.
Read below to learn more about the making of the album and what’s next.
LUNA: Can you walk us through the journey of creating Springs Eternal after the life-altering incident you experienced 6 years ago? How did this album come to be, especially considering the challenges you faced during your recovery?
HARMLESS: I think it's a common trope to want to create art out of life. We perceive art, or a body of work as a way to heal from a trauma or feeling. I think after I was run over, I was quick to want to make art out of it. I think this response was largely due to my impatience. If you know me, you know that I am a deeply impatient person when it comes to being in discomforting situations. I am the first to want to get a presentation out of the way, or a vaccination, or show, I wanna get it out of the way as soon as possible. Anticipation anxiety some call it. The first thing I did after I got out of the hospital was make little beats and interpolations while I was in a wheelchair. Afterward, I tried to make an EP, anything to try and get me out of the headspace of PTSD. I was in a medical lawsuit, working as a watch repairman at The Grove, I was miserable. I had just found this new lease on life and felt worse off than before and music just sorta seemed like the most sensible solution.
One of my songs went viral and the pandemic hit so it felt obvious to pursue that and finally be graduated from my past. Yeah, my body isn't the same anymore, my face is a bit different but we are over it, right? We did the art, we got a record deal, we've solved the issue, victory lap time! Finally, I can make music about other things. I've accomplished what I set out to and yet I felt weight still. I felt a bit vacuous and more disconnected from myself than before. I think... that's where I went wrong. I saw creating art something as a means to move on instead of as a meditation on a feeling. I felt that "I had the time to finally meditate on what I am struggling with and not punish myself because I'm not over 'it.'" I didn't want to set out to make an album whose goal was to make me feel fixed, I wanted to make an album that just made me feel like myself.
LUNA: The album is described as a conversation with your younger self about acceptance and the barriers you've experienced as an immigrant. How did you navigate these themes and emotions throughout the songwriting process?
HARMLESS:I think in being hit by a car and setting out to feel like myself again, I had to really face aspects of my identity that have challenged me. I moved to the US after having my childhood in Mexico. I moved to San Diego and went to a primarily white elementary school. I experienced being otherized for the first time. I didn't know what Nacho's were until I moved to California and I never heard the end of it when introducing myself. Kids made fun of my accent. I remember I would listen to hip-hop on my boombox and practice my pronunciation so that my accent would go away. I remember making a habit of overachieving where I could so that I could be accepted quickly by my environment. I felt that I had to sanitize myself from anything that made me different to be included, and I was. But I always felt that the rug would get pulled out from under me if I did so much as to rock the boat with who I was. Like, I'd get passed up, but I knew it might be my turn someday as long as I remained a good wannabe American boy. I sorta lost myself.
After I got hit by a car, I experienced an intensified separation from myself. I felt that I had taken over the body of this person who had been alive longer than I had imagined. Every memory felt like it wasn't really mine like it was someone else's. Like I'd been dead and switched spots. I wanted to make music that would help me reconnect with who I was. To feel like one whole person again. I picked subjects of things that I would want to tell this younger self. I imposed restrictions on myself, each song would take only a week to write an record because that's how I used to approach making music. If it wasn't done, then it was boring. Real young kid mentality. I picked sounds that only I know how to make. Sending myself little sonic secrets, maybe I could reconnect with this ghost. Maybe it would help me grow a bit.
LUNA: Your music has been deeply influenced by your experiences as an immigrant. How do you incorporate your cultural background and identity into your music, especially in this latest album?
HARMLESS:I didn't know that I was different til I came to the US. I was especially reminded how different I was when I took a more serious part in the music industry. The being run over part was one thing. I went through the victim part of the judicial system here in LA... and man... It was rough. I don't want to list too many examples here, but even as a victim, comments were made that reminded me how different I am. Similarly, when I went viral, it was the first time that I had any administrative eyes on me. My entire career no one reached out. I was a blogosphere, email kid. I sent out my shoe to Captured Tracks once with Swing Lynn on it. With it a note that said 'I am just trying to get my foot in the door.' I never heard back. I basically had this vision that it would never happen, it was reinforced. So I go viral and that all changed and I felt like Carrie. I was the pretty girl at Prom but little did I know I was gonna get covered in pig's blood any moment. I met with labels that were stumped that I was latin and that I made non-urban latin music. Every meeting wanted the viral song but was hesitant to press forward with anything else I had to offer because it was too risky because they didn't know how to market to the latin-market. I make dream-pop, or bedroom rock, or indie rock, whatever you want to call it, I didn't know that by just being Mexican I was relegated to a corner of the industry. As far as I was concerned, bedroom-pop/indie rock is the most Latin genre. I felt deeply alienated and further otherized. I couldn't belive it. I watched other indie rock peers go viral and not go through the same situation as mine. I felt that I had to make this choice sonically, or well, the choice had already been made for me. Make Latin music or prove us wrong, is the harder choice.
I decided to lean in further and make the best bedroom rock, bedroom pop, dream pop, whatever you want to call it album of my life and fight for that space. I did add in a little joke of a song "What U Want" that was basically me commenting on how I am made to feel like I can only make latin music. I think the aim, every time I make something is to try and impose on a space that hasn't always been the most welcoming to folks like me. I think it'll open that door... I hope this answers that Q.
LUNA: Could you share some insights into your creative process while writing and recording Springs Eternal? How did you recreate the style and sound of your earlier work while still exploring new themes and subject matter?
HARMLESS: I was really strict with myself. Which is funny because I used to not be. I would write a song a week because I would grow disinterested whereas now writing a song a week is such a massive flex. We really do take advantage of that youthful artistic hunger... Regardless. I treated this album kind of like a teenage record. All of it would be recorded in my room, at my house. I would use only instruments that I could get a hold of when I was younger. I would limit the amount of effects to the things that came with my laptop, or the pedals that I could afford at the time. I minimized my avenues for sonic exploration and restricted myself only to the things that would be available to me at the start of my music journey. I dug up an old reverb pedal and tried to make the ambient guitar drones. It's how I open the record as if to greet my younger self. I close the record the same way, using similar sonic textures to say goodbye. As for the subjects, each track is trying to tell younger self, this ghost, about things that we've gone through since we were separated by being run over. I talk to myself about my marriage, my courtship, how we struggled to be accepted by the music industry, our dating history, cutting friends and family off after the incident, our dreams coming true, and feeling different than we thought they'd be.
Sonically, I tried to do my first 'mixtape' or album over but the way I wish I could have. Once I finished recording everything, I went to Yves Rothman and asked him to help me mix and finish out the record. We imposed a similar time limit on ourselves as I did with writing the record. We mixed and rounded out everything we could in nine days. Whatever blemishes, or mistakes, whatever you wanna call it, stayed on the album. I wanted it to sound impatient, just as I was... or am... haha.
LUNA: The album reflects a journey of reconnecting with your younger self. How did you ensure authenticity and sincerity in your music while exploring such personal and introspective themes?
HARMLESS:I think I ensured authenticity by doing something I don't think I've done for years which is reapproach fear as an ally. I think I have had a constant fear provoked in me since I moved here. I feared losing my green card if I was ever caught at a party or something in high school. I feared that if I didn't accomplish my goals, my mother's and my own sacrifices as an immigrant would be for nothing. I feared that if I didn't secure a deal or capitalize on my virality it would go away forever and I would miss out on everything I've fought for. I fear, I fear, I fear. It's why I've never made a record. I've always done singles and then jumbled them up together and try to call it a cohesive idea when in reality it's just a collection of things that I made up over time. It's probably why they're deeply uneven. I was pestered by my friend and drummer Chris Knoll to actually take advantage of having a label and actually make a record. I told him that everything was assets nowadays and no one cares about an album, and even though there is some truth to that, I think I was just saying that because I feared actually trying to make a statement about myself. I feared that if I did anything different, my ride would be over. That's been a persistent fear.
For this record, I faced that fear and allowed it to carry me towards making a cohesive, cumulative, statement. To be an artist entirely and not just here and there. I am terrified of not succeeding. It's what's prevented me from not touring as a headliner, or for making larger strides in my life because I fear that it will go up in smoke. I've been conditioned to fear everything, good or bad. With this record, I took that fear and worked with it. I got invested in seeing the process as the reward rather than the other way around by embracing my fears. I think it's the only way that I was able to be introspective enough to create music that was this personal. I feel that it is sincere as a result of me participating for once with my fear instead of letting it make me sit out of life. I've avoided being present for so long. I think that's the silver lining to almost dying, you have to choose to be present and look forward to something. I experienced a great violence that quite literally catapulted me into something different. I want that space to still have fear within it as long as I'm also present. I think I've created a body of work with this record that provokes that hope within me.
LUNA: What were some of the most challenging aspects of producing Springs Eternal, both creatively and emotionally? How did you overcome these challenges?
HARMLESS:I think the first and most obvious answer is... I did this now, what? Will anyone care? The social-media-addicted part of my brain is seeking instant gratification. But in truth, I think that's just a surface-level response to a much deeper insecurity. Creatively, this is the best thing I've done thus far and I feel deeply accomplished. I made a record, that even I - a deep music cynic, would enjoy. I think it rips. Truly. I've put out a lot of stuff and I look back at a lot of it with a tinge of cringe but not with this. It's honest, it's precious, and I am beyond happy that it exists. Emotionally? That's the biggest challenge to overcome. This record being done doesn't change the fact that part of my face still has no feeling after it got torn off at the lip and eyelid. This record being out isn't going to change the fact that my pelvis and leg still experience chronic nerve pain. This record finding a home doesn't change the fact that my friends and I refer to the summer as the spicy season because I feel as though I am in danger because of the PTSD caused by being run over. I gotta live with that. I know that art, and the entertainment industry at large moves on after you make a body of work that stems from your trauma and it sort of creates this pressure that you have to move on too. I feel that unlearning that is my biggest challenge.
Since I turned the record in, I've felt this great depression that stems from feeling like I haven't overcome what this record is about. I'm still meditating on what it is. When I was in the ICU or trauma ward, I kicked out a doctor for telling me that there was a long road ahead. I didn't wanna hear it. It's been years and that road is ongoing. Every year gets a little better. Every year some victories appear minor but are enormous. Just putting this out into the world feels like that. My challenge is allowing myself to believe that. That I am safe and that I will be safe. I gotta learn to enjoy being me.
LUNA: This project touches on intimate details of your life, such as your marriage and relationship with your father. How did you approach writing about these personal topics, and what message do you hope listeners will take away from these songs?
HARMLESS: You'd think that the marriage part would be easy but I'm not going to lie it wasn't. The courtship with my wife happened as I was still in recovery, in a lawsuit, broker than I have ever been before. I still can't get a credit card my credit crashed so badly. The honeymoon phase was accompanied by profound stress. After I was run over my life also entered a bit of a cleansing phase. A wedding and a near-death experience are both events that allow you to reanalyze who is and who isn't going to be a part of your life. My dad was at neither of those events. My dad didn't go to the hospital, he claimed a plane left him and he decided to visit at another time. Nearly dying will have you look at something like that and the totality of your relationship and help you go "hey, I don't need that anymore, I think we're good." Same could be said about other friendships or affairs. They sort of fade away with the need to be alive, or something else. There's a purge. Ultimately, that purge makes it easier to talk about these things. They're over and done.
I think when I create work, I use art as a signal or beacon to try and reignite a dialogue with the past. Art has a way of bridging the gap of silence or distance between yourself and the people who you maybe don't have in your life anymore. Because of that I never made art that was totally personal about some folks. Out of fear that the art would bring them back into my life or drive them out of it. It always made me filter myself and my work. I think as a result of my near-death experience and the purge that came with it, I just lost that fear. I didn't care who ended up where after that incident. I made up my mind about who was going to be in my life and who wasn't. Yearning kind of took a different meaning as a result which made it easier to marry my wife. I wasn't driven by fantasy but rather the drive for reality. Rather than sit in my room and dream up a life, I felt it was time to actualize it and to live it. After all, I am alive for a reason, no? So are you. I just hope that a listener doesn't have to go through what I did to discover that. Maybe the record will just help you fall in love, or have a great party, or whatever. I've learned that once it's out there, it's not mine anymore and whatever I said out to say will change based on whoever listens. I just hope they catch a good feeling. (If I didn't totally answer this question let me know)
LUNA: Looking ahead, what do you envision for your music and your journey as an artist after this release?
HARMLESS: I always think of that song by the Books when I get asked something like this. Smells Like Content, I think is what it's called. It's like this... super intense song about anything and everything. It's got the most insane vocabulary. It aims to be about everything but at the end Zammuto just says... "expectation leads to disappointment, if you don't expect something huge and exciting.... I don't know" and then it cuts out. It makes me laugh. That's sort of how I feel, I am trying not to have too many expectations and be patient. I feel that if you make good and honest work it will find a home. My song Swing Lynn is a testament to that. I can only control making good work, everything that comes after that is just a gamble that I gotta make. All in... All the time. That being said, I also just really want to be out there and tour. I treat my shows as a celebration of life. I am so happy that I still have the capacity to do it. It costs a lot physically, and all I ever do is look for the green room but man... making a crowd laugh, smile, or even outright dislike you, elicits such a grand feeling for me. I hope I get to do that. I dream of it. I work out and try to keep my disability in check as much as I can in order to give this part of myself away. Outside of riding a bike, performing is one of the only spaces where I feel present. That's all I hope for. To be here. I've never loved a job more in my life than this one. I just want to be able to do it for as long as I can.
