With 32 albums under his belt—and at least eleven more in the works this year alone — Longboat is not your average pop experimentalist. Known for character-driven, often genre-defying songs that rarely lean on romance, he weaves stories that both provoke and entertain. His latest album, Word Gets Around, is a tapestry of tightly packed narratives, sonic mischief, and quiet rebellion. In this interview, Longboat opens up about abandoned songs, bending musical rules, and why sometimes, even he surprises himself.

If this album had a secret subtitle that only you knew, what would it be—and why?
It would probably be “Short Stories.” I know that’s very general, but nearly all my songs are about something. Time limitations encourage brevity. Each tune manages to bring its story to present and advance the narrative, sometimes without resolution, but always with some insight to what’s happening and some inkling to how things will end.

Did you throw away any great songs because they didn’t belong to this album’s world? Can you describe one?
The song selection process for a Longboat album is a ritual shrouded in secrecy. But I will tell you that much of it depends on whether any given tune can hold a lyric. No matter how awesome a melody or progression is—and every song begins as just music—if it can’t hold lyrics that are about something, its chances of existence greatly diminish. But there’s hope for everything, I revisit each song start that I’ve rejected and quite often, it eventually becomes an actual track. It’s only a matter of time and inclination. I’ve written something like 500 songs. Things happen over time.

Did you use any “rules” while making this album? Did you ever break them on purpose?
Of course! That’s part of the fun! I could describe the specifics, but you’ll have to investigate for yourself. There’s been a lot of rule breaking. That’s the only way things get done.

How does this album challenge the idea of what people think they know about you?
I’m not exactly sure of what people know about me, so the music I make doesn’t have much bearing on that. Most of my music challenges general beliefs and what people think about themselves.

If someone played this album backward, what kind of hidden meaning should they find?
I’m not sure, but it would probably sound like a lost Slavic language. Honestly, it’s much more rewarding listening to Longboat in the regular forward fashion.

You’re known for creating complex, character-driven pop without relying on love songs. Was there ever a temptation, just once, to write something simple and romantic—if only to prove you could?
I did. There’s a song on my second album called “So Gangsta.” It’s about a guy using outdated slang to impress some potential squeeze. I had fun with it. It’s a very gentle song and also a nice video I made from Hollywood movie outtakes from the forties and fifties. I wrote the string quartet arrangement and nurtured it along with all the love in my heart. Although it wasn’t directed at any specific person, I hope that love is evident to those who have heard or seen it.

Is there one moment on this album where you surprised yourself—sonically, structurally, or emotionally?
Absolutely. The song “Euro vs. Disco” was something of a revelation. I lived in Europe for a time back in the day and I acquired the Eurodisco vocabulary. It’s generally a compilation of clichés that make for good thumping dance music. But this is very much a different story. What happens in this tune is that the conventional clichés exist alongside this very sinister action that is reminiscent of the film Suspiria. It evolved in a very surprising way and it’s one of the better songs I’ve written in a while. Plus you can dance to it in weird and terrible ways.

Do you ever think about what a casual listener—someone stumbling on Longboat with no context—might make of Word Gets Around?
I think my music speaks for itself. It always has. For anyone stumbling onto it, I say, “Welcome! There’s something for you here. Stay as long as you want.”

You’ve already released 32 albums—at this point, what’s more satisfying: finishing one, or realizing you’ve just started something that’s going to mess with people’s heads?
Funny thing, Word Gets Around was the first album I made this year. I recorded another album days later. In May, I made three albums with a live band and at this moment, I’m in the middle of making a record with electronics and live strings. Tomorrow I’ll be conducting a small string orchestra playing my own arrangements. This summer, I’ll be recording two albums in the UK and later this year, I’m recording three albums with just voice and electric piano. That puts this year’s output at eleven. I don’t cut corners. I don’t give in to hackery. And I truly hope that this onslaught does mess with people’s heads. It’s about time that happened in music. Let me know if it does.