The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.

The idea for Bartees Strange’s new album Horror surfaced suddenly, at an inopportune moment, from somewhere deep within. Strange had just released his debut album Live Forever, and was beginning to write and work on its follow-up Farm to Table, when he received a complete vision for a whole other album. It was a terrifying vision, dripping with bloody truths and gruesome vulnerability. “A record will grab me like that… I will just be living life and then – BOOM – all this music will appear to me and I know I have to record it.,” explains Strange. But creating this album would involve opening a boarded-up door to a closet filled with everything from Strange’s life that he didn’t know how to address. At first, Strange pushed the calling aside and finished up Farm to Table, which was released to much critical acclaim, earning best-of nods from the likes of The New York Times, Rolling Stone and NPR Music. However, it would not be long before Horror would rear its monstrous head again.

Bartees Strange was raised on fear. His family told scary stories to teach life lessons, and at an early age, Strange started watching scary movies to practice being strong. The world can be a terrifying place, and for a young, queer, black person in rural America, that terror can be visceral. Horror is an album about facing those fears and growing to become someone to be feared. Throughout the record, Strange lays down one difficult truth after another, all over a sonic pastiche of music he loved as a kid. His dad introduced him to Parliament Funkadelic, Fleetwood Mac, Teddy Pendergrass, and Neil Young. Those influences merged with Strange’s interest in hip-hop, country, indie rock, and house, culminating in a record that feels completely original.

Strange began Horror at his home studio and went hard on the production. He did a session with Yves and Lawrence Rothman who provided a rhythmic and sonic backbone for chunks of the record. Then Strange met Jack Antonoff at a music festival by chance and they became fast friends. Strange worked on some material for Antonoff’s band Bleachers, and Antonoff worked on Horror. The twosome finished the record together, working the songs raw, editing, arranging, and dressing them up in clothing bound to inspire fear.

The album opener “Too Much” picks up where the last track on Farm to Table left off, quickly dunking us deep into the inner journey of Horror. “Too Much” is Horror’s thesis statement. It’s a sonic and lyrical love letter from Strange to himself. The song’s protagonist grows from a deflated ego into a feral giant. “You’re too much to hold, some days you’re heaven to touch” Strange sings before being overtaken by an instrumental hook that nods to early hits by the Isleys and the Brothers Johnson. “Sober” hits on one of Strange’s biggest fears — uncertainty in a romance. Poetry of the insecurities floats over the 1970s acoustic guitars, Rhodes piano, and taped-out drums, reflecting on why it’s so hard to stay sober under the scrutiny of one’s own mind. “Wants / Needs” is a song that seeks to shake the fears around being seen by listeners. Strange puts it, “I used to want fans, now I need them – and that’s scary to realize. It’s tough not knowing if you will be liked when you’re doing something you love more than anything.” Strange searches for a place to live and feel safe on the pastoral folk, culture-clasher “Baltimore.” The Phillip Roth-inspired tune culminates with Strange settling in a city that goes unnamed except for in the song’s title.

A closing statement for Horror’s shadow essay exists in the final track “Backseat Banton” — Banton meaning storyteller in Caribbean mythology. In life, Bartees cannot decide whether to be along for the ride or struggle to grasp the steering wheel. “Being scared has made me bigger now, bigger than I was. The darkest side of waking up is seeing who I’ve become. Grace is still a savior, every moment that it comes. I’m reminded of a hopeful me and how fast that I could run.” Strange sings over a particularly tender moment in the song’s bopping alt-pop groove. Scary movies may have been the training ground for young Strange to practice facing fear, but for grown-up Strange, it’s crafting his genre-bending pop songs that manifest the perfect space to laugh in the face of Horror.