I came across Porches’s newest album, Shirt, right when it came out in September, and I’ve been listening to it since. It’s equal parts hypnotic and melodic—hard to describe but also perfect for the transitional seasons here in New York City, where both he and I reside. Born Aaron Maine, he grew up in Pleasantville, New York, 30 miles north of Manhattan, and has been making music under the moniker Porches since 2010. “I grew up doing a lot of skateboarding, got into music at a young age, always been interested in clothes, and in one way or another I’ve always been really picky,” he says. “My mom told me that even when I was a kid, I would feel fabric and shake my head.”
At this point, the sentiment is probably like beating a dead horse, but you can tell Aaron’s clothes are really worn, which is what makes an item as classic as a piqué polo or cargo pants feel uniquely his. In spending an afternoon with him, I got to know a bit about him and how obsessive he can be, which is apparent in listening to his music and reading this conversation, surely, but also in seeing how he puts outfits together. Below, Aaron and I discuss growing up in a house surrounded by music, the recording process of Shirt, drinking beer before shows, style and its essential role in his art, and plenty more.
Fit One
What were you doing before making music, and what prompted you to pursue it?
I went to art school at SUNY Purchase and studied painting; I was always in a band there. I never really thought that it would be a career. I just did it because I was into it. Then I started to do some touring, some super, super DIY—like borrow a friend’s old prison bus where the benches faced each other in the back. We would drive around anywhere that would have us and play to like six people, and eat at the soup kitchen, and dumpster-dive. The best and wildest memories of my life. We just couldn’t be stopped. No matter how dirty or empty the shows were, we felt totally alive. Once I caught a whiff of touring I knew that’s what I wanted to dedicate my time toward or make as much room for as possible, so I dropped out of school. I didn’t even think about a record label or send anything to anyone or know that was a thing you could do. Things slowly picked up, and more people started coming out to the shows, and I felt a shift in the energy. All of a sudden there was label interest, and I was like, “Oh wow, this could be something.” Ever since then—I was about 25—I’ve been making music every available second that I have because it just feels like the coolest job to have in the world.
Can you remember how you first fell in love with music?
It’s in my blood. My dad is a musician. He’s a drummer and songwriter. From a young age there was original music being made in the house. That played a big part; making original music was not this mysterious other thing. I remember banging on his drum set when I was a kid, just messing around. I loved playing trumpet and being surrounded by 40 other musicians during school band rehearsals. My mom played piano. I’ve always been making a racket. If anything made a sound, I was over there touching it and trying to mess around. It’s been a slow, forever kind of love.
Fit Two
How would you describe your music?
Hardest question to answer of all time. The one thread throughout my music—because I feel like the genres and stylings have been all over the place and I’ve experimented with a lot of different sounds and instruments—is it’s really melodic and really emotional.
You’ve been making music for over a decade and just put a new album out this year. What was different for you about the process or content?
The process was a little bit different because I started renting this rehearsal/studio space in the basement of a building in SoHo. I never had a spot. I’ve always made the majority of the records in my room. I could make music at all hours of the day and night and could really crank it up and not have to worry about the neighbors. I felt really isolated, being underground and quiet and in this derelict fantasy-weirdo-cave thing. I was really able to dig into some freakier subconscious thoughts and themes. The voicings and the chords are darker and edgier and more angular than in the past. Being in a basement and alone like that with no service—the WiFi worked one day a month—I got in touch with this weirder side of myself that I don’t usually put forward in my music. It felt good to embrace those feelings and sentiments as opposed to navigating around them. It all felt very balls to the wall, and I liked going with that. I probably wrote like 200 songs over the course of making the album and picked 12 at the end.
Fit Three
Do you have any preshow rituals?
There’s no set ritual, but I think ten to 15 minutes before we’re about to go on, something shifts in the green room and everyone starts to get up or start making weird sounds as the anticipation builds, and it’s really beautiful. It’s like a primal little monkey tribe getting loose, getting in touch with each other, and then we’d go on the stage and do a huddle or hold hands or something like that. But we never talked about it. It’s just kind of this natural group bubbling up before the show starts.
But you’re not drinking tea every night or something?
Drinking beer after beer after beer. I try and keep it not too crazy before. Beer, maybe a little shot of tequila before the encore, if there is one—get loose. We just try and have a good time. My voice is a miracle, knock on wood. It doesn’t require too much maintenance. It seems to hold up on tour, in the studio.
When you’re home, do you set hours when you’re going to write, or do you just pick up a guitar if inspiration strikes?
I treat it like a job. I get up, shower, shave, get a coffee, and head to the studio. I like to work during the day. I feel brightest and most alive and awake and creative from 10:00 to 8:00, or something like that—almost like a day job. It’s the first thing I want to do when I wake up, and I have to pry myself away from it every night and come home and go out and have a couple drinks and see some friends and have some social interactions. At this point I don’t really know what a day would look like without it. I have to try and not make music if I wake up, like, “I’m not going to go to the studio today. I need a break.” It’s fun. It’s a weird routine. It’s meditative. It feels like part of my system.
Fit Four
Do you have a dream collaborator?
I want to make some music with Lana Del Rey in some capacity, someday. I don’t know if that’ll ever happen, but I’m a fan. I love her voice, and I feel like we could make something cool together.
When did you first become interested in clothing and style?
Probably when I was like two or three. I’ve been interested in clothing and style, never got deep into “fashion.” I’m a super visual person, so as long as I can remember, I’ve been very picky about what I wear. I like getting dressed and I like shopping, whether or not I have money to shop. I like to express myself almost too much, with the music and the drawing and the painting and the clothes.
Does style play a role in your music and your stage presence?
A thousand percent. I think what’s so fun about music is that the style, the clothes, and the fashion and the music, they’re sort of inseparable. Maybe some people would argue differently, but I feel like it’s so important to have the image. Not even like an industry way. It’s just the ultimate expression of style and emotion: singing and the harmony and clothes and your attitude. I get really into it. I don’t intentionally reinvent myself. It never seems like I’m on to a totally different vibe or mood board than I have been in the past. But when I look back at album after album, I feel like the looks are so funny and so all over the place. In the moment it just felt right to bleach my hair, or part it in the middle, or to grow it in a Ramones cut. I like experimenting with the way that I look. It’s like painting myself. The world is important to me, and the photos and the clothes, and I try and keep it coherent enough, at least for the album cycle, before probably switching the whole thing up for the next thing.
Fit Five
Are there any musical artists that have had an impact on your style?
Every single musician and person I see at the grocery store or the coffee shop or on the street influences my style. Most recently, it was probably pretty obvious that I’ve been having this obsession with Kurt Cobain and Nirvana and secondhand clothes and shredded blue jeans and flannels and primary colors. David Bowie, just overarching, the way he was able to sort of navigate between these characters and pull them off. It never seemed grabby or wishy-washy. It was all very intentional, and that’s beautiful to me as someone who’s ADD and is interested in all sorts of stuff.
What are three nonnegotiable albums you think everyone should listen to?
Please Please Me by the Beatles. At Action Park by Shellac, Steve Albini’s band. I can’t stop listening to that. Everyone should listen to because it’s live fucking music. It sounds like more of a band than any music I’ve ever heard, and it makes me emotional and well up listening to it. And Shirt by Porches.
If you had to wear one outfit for the rest of your life, what would it consist of?
I was reading the answers to this question. Everyone says jeans and a T-shirt. I would say slacks, a button-up, and a tie, because I’m in it right now. It feels good.
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