MORE ABOUT ‘COMPLEX HOUSE PLANTS’ 

Safari Room’s sophomore album, ‘Complex House Plants,’ is about coming together in the face of adversity and finding self-love. The album was written, dreamt up and recorded between March 2020 and July 2021, a significantly more challenging theme than any of us could have fathomed. The album gave Safari Room an opportunity to refine the sound from the band’s debut album, pushing into new sonic spaces and heavier sounds. The album’s title comes from the idea that we all resembled “ complex house plants” during the pandemic. Trapped and in need of connection and substance, we were yearning for things that seemed unattainable. We all needed human connection and love, but it was in short supply and hard to achieve. 

Through the process of recording, Safari Room’s spirit was rejuvenated and – despite being less connected than ever – the band had never felt closer in music. The album was revitalizing to create after a year of stasis and separation amongst the Safari Room crew. But we were able to come together, coalesce and create something that will hopefully continue to strengthen the center of Safari Room: human connection. 

‘COMPLEX HOUSE PLANTS’ CREDITS

All songs written by Alec Koukol,
except Tracks 1 & 8 written by Alec Koukol and Chris Collier
Produced by Cole Yepsen + Safari Room

All songs performed by Safari Room

Safari Room is
Alec Koukol: Vocals, Guitars, Piano on Tracks 2, 6, 7, 10, 11
Bass on Tracks 1-7, 9-10 Synths on Tracks 1, 8
Austin Drewry: Drums, Percussion, Programming on Track 10
Chris Collier: Guitars, Bass on Track 8

Additional tracking by
Jeff Coffin: Saxophone on Track 5 (Jeff Coffin appears courtesy of Ear Up Records)
Natalie Mays: Cello on Track 10
Lauren Saks: Violin on Tracks 4 & 8

Tracked at Schematic Studios in Goodlettsville, TN
Engineered by Cole Yepsen and Brandon Highfill

Additional tracking at Westminster Presbyterian Church and The Safe House
Engineered by Cole Yepsen and Alec Koukol

Mixed by Collin Pastore
Mastered by Preston Cochran

Artwork by Alec Koukol and Morgan Slone

‘COMPLEX HOUSE PLANTS’ TRACK-BY TRACK

SMALL VICTORIES

“Small Victories” was the very first song we recorded for ‘Complex House Plants’. It felt like the most refreshing expansion of Safari Room’s sound. I brought a voice memo of a song called “Waffles” to the band, and Chris arranged the verse to chorus to instrumental part that you hear now. It completely changed the landscape of the song and allowed me to expand on that and finish out the rest of the song.

The song is about getting up and moving after being stuck in idle for too long. It is the yin and yang of action and stasis that ‘Complex House Plants’ discusses through the record. At a certain point, we can’t sit and wallow. We have to move cause time’s a wastin’! There are times to be methodical and plan ahead, and there are times to throw caution to the wind and run. It’s also one of the most fun songs to play live, as we’ve found over the past six months. The first big instrumental section hits and really shows an audience what’s up.

The single artwork for “Small Victories” was probably my favorite of the batch. My friend and co-designer of the artwork, Morgan Slone, helped to arrange the collage. We burned part of the photo and carefully took a candle I’d been burning for meditation off its resting place. It was cool to have our friend, Scott Boeing, then animate the candle to appear like it had just been blown out. Moving into this realm of visual and digital art on the album was such an exciting outlet.

BEST OF ME

“Best of Me” is about imagination. And I have feared about using that word just because of my generation’s relationship with Spongebob… “immaaaaaginnnnaaaation” … But that’s what it’s about! Attributes can be a strength and a weakness when too developed or sharpened. My imagination feels incredibly powerful, but when it’s on overdrive it absolutely pushes me to overthink. I’ve defined Safari Room as “a coping method of imaginative recontextualizing,” and “Best of Me” delivers that message acutely.

“Best of Me” is about wearing your imagination-induced nerves or anxiety like a tin foil hat. Thinking everyone can see what you’re going through, even though you try your best to keep from broadcasting it. When I wrote the song in the Summer of 2020, I about worrying that Safari Room would no longer be a thing past the pandemic, thinking life would never go back to the way it was. Real fears that were calcifying and manifesting in negative ways, most to the point of distortion.

And, two years later, this song feels relevant with everything in total flux. We’re still in this nebulous space of “will it, won’t it” in most parts of our daily lives. Collectively, we’re all trying to shed the past two years when they probably haven’t been adequately processed yet. There’s always something gnawing at us, and that’s what “Best of Me” is all about.

IT JUST TAKES TIME

This is probably some of my favorite lyricism to date. I especially had fun writing the pre-choruses, diving into the extended metaphor of landing planes and submarines. It feels incredibly biographical and personal, while still being light and hopeful. This was one of the tracks that, when sitting down as a band listening to about 50 demos, was a unanimous yes from everyone. It needed to be on this record.

Time may not be on our side, but we have to keep pushing as best as we can. Through difficult times, through adversity or through our own feelings of inadequacy. It feels like a spiritual sequel to “Young Water” from our first record, ‘Look Me Up When You Get There.’ Things may not make sense right now, and there may be no light over the hill. But trust the process, trust yourself, and the path will make sense eventually. And get up and move! Nothing is gonna happen by waiting for life to come to you.

The artwork for this one is especially meaningful, as it features my dog, Special Agent Dale “Cooper”. I have the same photo of him taped on my wall in my room above his crate. And when being a dog parent is difficult and I’m upset, I look at that and am reminded of the goofy pup I love. I think this song represents that. there’s so much backwardness and confusion in life right now, and this song is that picture of Cooper embodied in a song, reminding me of the good times and that things will be okay.

That theme, of pseudo-nostalgia, was a big inspiration for the music video I made for the song as well. I acquired a digital handy cam from the early 2000s and took video on our tour in March 2022. The age of the camera made it look like videos we had of our childhood and instantly felt nostalgic. We even had someone take the camera and film us playing “It Just Takes Time” while we played it on the road. Risky but I think it totally paid off, even for some outstanding bloopers! The music video became a little home movie/video documentary of tour, my favorite thing in the world to go do.

ALL IS SAID AND DONE

A ton of my lyricism feels directed at myself, notes I want to tell myself. I’ve found, throughout the last few years, that I’m sage when giving advice, but I can never turn it around and use it on myself. The medicine I give is the poison I receive. This song is a highlight of the themes of the record, I need to learn to love myself. Through the ebb and flow of life, trials and tribulations, there has to be a way to find center and know I’m doing the best I can with what’s being thrown my way.

This was a song we jammed on for a while with no real end-point in mind, but once the lyrics started to shape around the skeleton we formed, things felt much more clear. I think it was even something we tossed around for ‘Look Me Up When You Get There,’ but it didn’t land until well after that was recorded. Safari Room’s writing/arranging process looks different from song to song, but this one is exciting for just how collaborative it became. Working in the room together, toying with the arrangement, was beautiful. We’re hoping what comes next will follow that trend even more.

IKWYT

Originally, the intro riff was played by a bouncy synth bass from a Logic sample library, but around the time we were recording in 2021, I got into this record ‘ ‘ by Hannah Gorgas. The opening track features ONLY saxophones and horns, acting as these lush and robust pads. It reminded me a ton of ‘Love This Giant’ by St. Vincent and David Byrne, where a majority of their orchestrations were with heavy brass and woodwinds. I did some tinkering with midi instruments, and we felt it was worth an attempt, going a little out on a limb…

My friend, Jeff Coffin, was kind enough to record sax on this and work with me on the “choir” arrangement I wrote for about five overdubbed saxophone lines. It was fun to work with the different timbes of each kind of saxophone, much like a choir of voices. It was something he hadn’t done in that exact way before, so it was cool to embark on that journey in tandem. It was also fun to sit back and watch Jeff do a few takes of purely phenomenal solos. Grateful be in a world where incredible musicians like Jeff are some of the kindest and generous folks out there.

The lyrics of “IKWYT” come from a place of understanding and kindness. It’s about watching someone going through hell, a place you’ve been before. The song was written by me to me, but it’s become so much more than that. It’s a reassurance that no matter what gets muddled in the middle, things will be okay in the end. And above all, you are loved.

 
THE HISTORIAN

This was one of the first songs we recorded for ‘Complex House Plants’. It think it embodies the lyrical content, instrumentation, composition and vibe-switching manner of the record. There are soothing moments juxtaposed with intense rock scenes. To me, this song is about the loneliness of seeing everything around you swirl on without you, and then the intense emotion that comes suddenly with no real place to channel. It’s why we arranged the song to kind of blitzkrieg into the final notes. The up and down, swinging between sad and angry, or desperate and exasperated. This song was a big tone setter for my writing and composing on this record, and I’m excited to play it live.

“The Historian” is a true embodiment of our second album, from the lyrical content to the juxtaposed light and heavy sounds. The verses are melancholic and have the strum and plod of Big Thief, whereas the choruses rise to a distorted riff and pleading vocals. It’s the up and down, swinging between sad and angry, or desperate and exasperated. This song is released the same day as the rest of our second album. Been releasing singles for the past 6 months in prep. Excited for this one.

VIOLET

“Violet” was hugely inspired by listening to Big Thief’s album, ‘Two Hands’. I admired the simplicity of the grungy guitar and vocals, and the ethos of the record paved the way to me finding the granules that became “Violet.” The song is about the mystique and baffling nature of death, how we truly have no idea what’s after this life. We can pontificate and theorize, but I don’t think we can truly ever know. Perhaps, it’s something glorious or perhaps it’s nothing at all. Or somewhere in the middle.

I’ve had a lot of death in my life over the past few years, and I think it has really effected me in a big way – whether I’m actively processing it or not. Whether it’s family or close friends, it’s been a handful of seasons marked with the passing of loved ones. I wanted to externally process through this song, and bring up questions that seemingly have no clear answers, all the while longing to have more time with those around me. In a stretch of time marked with so much death – everyone being touched in some way by the pandemic’s toll – it’s hard not to feel that the message of this song resonates with a huge population.

But we all carry on with those we’ve lost on our shoulders, pushing forward.

YOUR CITY DOESN’T LOVE YOU

When this track was initially released in March, I had a lot of people reach out to me wondering why I thought “my city hated me, more specifically Nashville.” And I felt like the point was being muddied in the emphasis of the lyrics. It wasn’t that my place of residence hated me – it was more that I just haven’t totally felt the love. The song is about moving away from a comfortable existence into a new world that I had to completely build from the bottom up. Relationships, career, self-identity, community, passion, etc. There were few, to no, safety nets being hundreds of miles and two oddly timed plane rides home. But the thesis is that, no matter how lonely or disenfranchised I feel by the community around, my best shot at comfort and a way to persevere forward was to love myself. Or at least have trust and faith in myself that I’m on the right path, no matter how nebulous it may seem.

It’s not a song about hate or ostracization. It’s about an absence and search of love.

“Your City Doesn’t Love You” was brought to life by a beautiful guitar part Chris wrote in 2020. I had stewed on it for a while and finally took it to the piano, an upright parlor piano that I had acquired mid-2020, where a lot of the record was actually written. I then flipped through a printed and bound notebook I had made of about 5 years worth of phone notes. It was one of the first I tried, and it felt so right. That melancholy yet hopeful sound and feel. I originally tried to fit “five score and seven years ago” but then I had to realize that a score was a lot longer than I’d thought and scrapped that.

SPEAK SLOWER

All lyric sheets I wrote had the subtitle “An Ode to Social Anxiety,” and I think it sums up “Speak Slower” pretty succinctly. I wrote most of the song sitting on my floor with my KORG Minilogue on arppegiator mode, just riffing lyrically. It was fun to hit record and see what came out, what I was having an internal argument about. It ended up being about how I felt in social exchanges, whether it be talking too much, not knowing what to say, overthinking situations, or just feeling like people would see right through any attempt I made.

Playing this one live has felt cooler than I had initially expected. During the beginning, Chris and Cole/Hunter have been playing shaker while Austin/Cole rock that funky beat. It’s oddly entrancing and eerie and people have been stoked on it. Especially when we divebomb into the outro. That section is probably the heaviest Safari Room has gotten, and it’s a place I never though would be attainable with this music. However, I’m excited to continue pushing in that direction on future music as it meshes well with music I grew up on but never modeled after. It’s cathartic as hell.

 
GARDEN TALKER

From the get-go, Chris told me that “Garden Talker” felt like a huge step forward and maturation of my songwriting (thanks mom). And further and futher we dug into this song, the more it became a huge milestone in my writing for myself. It’s a different approach than before, but I think the message is still clear.

I truly did see someone in their garden on my way home from work one day, appearing to speak to their plants. I was in a really heavy place, but I knew from speaking to friends and peers that everyone was going through hell at the same time. And perhaps this gardener was feeling the same.

“Garden Talker” has felt important in its message, that we all need help sometimes, whether we like to admit it or not. We have people around us that are willing to lend an ear or a word of advice during our toughest times. And sometimes we find ourselves being that sounding board or affirming word. That love between one another is how we persevere through life dolling out its worst storms, and “Garden Talker” is an anthemic reminder to look out for each other and speak up.

Tracking this song was an emotional process but also one of euphoria. One of the most special parts was adding strings to final chorus. Getting Natalie Mays to play cello (like… 32+ times?) was incredible. She was a damn trooper, and that addition was so exquisite. I think Steven Tyler was once quoted saying “if it’s gonna be a hit, you have to put strings on it” or something to that effect. Just waiting for a CBS drama to put it as their end credit song…

MYTHS

“Myths” is an epilogue to ‘Complex House Plants’ and my most concise note to self. This song truly flowed out of me, tapping into what I’ve been needing to absorb and internalize for years. I know that there are people around that care even when I can convince myself they don’t, or when I can’t see them. Our mind plays tricks on us, constantly muddying the waters and distorting the truth. Knowing what’s real is imperative, and the journey to that acceptance is important but grueling.

In a world where everyone is constantly trying to figure out what the heck we’re doing, the line “no one is thinking about you quite as much as you think they are” became perhaps my most important lyric to hear myself sing on the entire record. While feels dismissive at first, it’s liberating to know that each of us are working on ourselves and sometimes not being constantly thought of or considered is a good thing. It gives freedom to find yourself and find that love within.