Tacoma Folk-Rocker Kye Alfred Hillig Takes The Long Way Home With Advance Single “On Small Wings”

Kye Alfred Hillig – On Small Wings and Widowmaker Express

1. “On Small Wings” feels quietly optimistic without ever becoming sentimental. Was there a specific moment or experience that became the catalyst for writing this song?

It’s not one moment, no. I think it’s more a slow emerging need of having to reestablish your relationship with hope. Like, a lot of us when we’re young see all this possibility in our lives, and as we get older that’s harder to hold onto. So this song is trying to combat that feeling in myself and other folks I know, and with good reason. I know a lady who found the love of her life in her fourth marriage, so you never know when the future you’d hoped for might arrive. Gotta leave the window cracked for it to sneak in.

2. You describe love as something that isn’t “coming cheap out of the vending machine.” What inspired that image, and what do you think we’ve lost by expecting relationships to happen instantly?

People are just so impatient nowadays. So few of us play the long game for the deeper payoffs. I often see this in my friends who are using dating apps. It’s like they’ll use any excuse to write some new prospect off, as they can always just go back for the quick hit of the dating app slot machine.

3. Hope is often harder to write about than heartbreak. How did you approach writing a hopeful song while still keeping it grounded in real life?

First of all, thanks. That’s a wonderful compliment. I kinda think I’m the last person people should turn to for hope, but maybe that makes me a passable spokesperson. Hahaha! For me the key is to write it to myself and just be honest. Tell myself, “Is everything really that bad? Come on, man.” If it helps me dig out of those negative ways of thinking then maybe it will do that for others.

4. Your songs often embrace ambiguity instead of providing neat resolutions. Is that a conscious songwriting philosophy, or simply how life has revealed itself to you?

It’s a life philosophy that bleeds into songwriting. I know that you can’t generally think your way out of many of life’s troubles. Anti-thinking might be more helpful. In songs I’m looking for understanding. Essentially, “Do you feel the way that I do?” As that already lets someone know it’s not just them. In that dynamic I can step out of the role of wise old sage and just be a friend.

5. Tacoma seems woven into your music—not just as a backdrop, but almost as another character. How has living and working there shaped your perspective as a songwriter?

Tacoma is so easy for me to love. It’s been kicked around, made tragically uncool, and coughs along dysfunctional in so many ways, but yet it’s so genuine and beautiful that I can’t fathom living elsewhere. It’s a place where winning isn’t an option. So free of that, you can just lead your best life. There’s something really honorable about that to me. It’s also got one of the strangest histories of any city I know. More to love. Wherever you turn here there are stories so dark and bizarre that you can’t help but say “that’s Tacoma”.

6. Before becoming known as a solo artist, you spent years with Destruction Island and Pistol For A Paycheck. Looking back, what lessons from those projects still influence the way you write today?

There was a freedom to both those bands that I very much carry with me. There existed an unflinching acceptance of the fact that we could make whatever kind of music we wanted, be as crazy as we wanted, and push whatever boundary. I still strive to be genre-less in the same way those bands were. You can bottle them how you see fit, but any act of that kind is somewhat an injustice to them.

7. You’ve worked in social services for years. Without sharing anyone else’s stories, how has that work changed the way you listen, observe, and ultimately write songs?

When you work in social services you don’t get the relief of looking away from what life does to people. It’s front and center every day. Having that perspective is incredibly helpful when making art. The reason for this is that you don’t have the luxury of fooling yourself into making or believing what’s untrue.

8. The title Widowmaker Express immediately grabs attention. What does that phrase mean to you, and why was it the right title for this collection of songs?

It means being fast tracked to the afterlife. It’s an acknowledgement that we’re constantly surrounded by elements that are corrosive to our existence. This grouping of songs speaks to that reality, I think.

9. You’ve described the new record as “a wrestling match with God.” Was making this album spiritually challenging, emotionally challenging, or both?

Yeah, there have been moments where I’ve been shouting at the universe. It’s just kind of a- “why are you putting us all through this?”- sort of thing. Why make it all so hard, you know? Maybe it’s just us doing it to ourselves. That might be the more likely candidate. Anyhow, many of these songs are direct messages to the universe speaking to that effect. Like, hey, what gives? That said, I also wrote some really silly funny songs in this batch that just didn’t ultimately get selected.

10. “On Small Wings” serves as the album’s introduction, yet you’ve hinted that Widowmaker Express also explores grief, heartbreak, and survival. Why was this song the right doorway into the larger story?

The honest answer is that I felt if I led with a more emotionally devastating track that folks might not invest as much in the story arc of the full record. If you just depress people they tend to lean away. “On Small Wings” is the final track on the album and it’s the only sane place I felt I could land this particular plane.

11. You reunited with producer Daniel G. Harmann for these sessions. After knowing each other for so many years, what does he bring out in your music that someone else might not?

Dan brings an authenticity to everything he does. When it comes to making art, Dan can’t fake it. It just isn’t in him. That is always a great place to start when making art, so I always know he’ll be an excellent counterpart. He also doesn’t do anything half way. Dan goes in big on everything he touches. He also understands my work to a degree that I knew he would get what I was driving at with this one. When I initially described what I wanted the record to be he immediately got it. The record is pretty much exactly how I’d imagined it. He was the perfect choice.

12. The production feels warm and understated, allowing the lyrics to breathe. Were there moments where you deliberately chose restraint instead of adding more instrumentation?

Dan had a great feel for when to step in and out with his production. At his heart, Dan is a songwriter, so he knows the importance of hearing the voice and allowing it the space to tell its story. We knew this record was going to be a minimalist endeavor from the start. We just wanted a big haunted space for the songs to live in.

13. Listeners often compare your work to artists like Wilco, Damien Jurado, and The Jayhawks. Are there records—or even books or films—that influenced Widowmaker Express beyond those comparisons?

I love all those artists, but other people’s music didn’t have much of an influence on these songs. These were more of the sound that gets made when you accidentally touch a hot stove or something. I am a big reader though. Graham Greene’s book The End Of The Affair had a big influence on this record. I was reading that as I was writing these songs and it just leveled me.

14. Many of your songs feel like conversations rather than performances. When you’re writing, are you imagining a particular listener, or are you mostly trying to make sense of your own experiences?

Many times when I’m writing songs its my subconscious trying to explain my life to my brain. So in a way that conversation is really just me processing what I’ve been subjected to.

15. As someone who’s been part of the Pacific Northwest music scene for many years, how have you seen the songwriting community evolve, and what continues to inspire you about it?

I’ve seen it more devolve over time. As life has moved online it’s slowly eaten many of the clubs and bars known for hosting songwriters. It’s also made quick work of perverting what remains, reducing us down to how many followers we have or how good we look in a ring light. That said, songwriters are dark soldiers. They cannot be easily snuffed out. We’re like cockroaches. You put one of us in hell and we’ll start strumming a tune about the heat. I’m more just proud of any of my peers who have been able to survive in the inhospitable climate without having to shake their ass on Snapchat.

16. What surprised you most about yourself while making Widowmaker Express?

Listening back, the despair surprises me. I’m like, wow, some really heavy stuff I was working through there. When you’re in it you’re just kind of powering through, so I have been shocked to look back at what a heap of twisted metal was left back along the highway there.

17. If listeners take only one thing away from “On Small Wings,” what do you hope stays with them after the song ends?

That you don’t yet know how your story ends. Leave that window cracked for the possibility of good to arrive in your life. I always think of that line from the Bob Dylan song that says something like “Don’t speak too soon for the wheel still in spin”. I think it’s kinda like that.

18. The album arrives during a time when many people are feeling uncertain about the future. Do you think songs can still offer genuine comfort, or is their role simply to remind us we’re not alone?

Often art is our only comfort. It reliably works to shift our moods and perspectives. Even if the message is ‘smoke ‘em if you got ‘em’. That’s still at least celebratory. The darkness is all just some horrible weather passing through. Tomorrow, who knows.

19. After all these years of writing and recording, has your definition of success changed? What does a successful album release look like to you today?

For me anymore it’s all about the art, giving it the life it deserves. I’ve tried to take myself out of the equation and more just act like a parent trying to give a kid a hopeful future. All my art is a success in that it’s what I wanted to make. When I was younger I dreamed of mansions, beautiful cars, and globe trotting. I pictured myself playing to stadiums full of adoring fans. Now having seen some people I know go through all that I can tell its nothing but a thresher, and I feel lucky that I’ve escaped to bop around Tacoma, write my songs, and do things my own way. It’s like getting to escape a serial killer. The biggest compliment and success to me is someone telling me my album made them cry. You can’t fake that. That’s worth more than all the gold in the world.

20. Finally, when audiences hear Widowmaker Express in its entirety on August 5, what conversations do you hope it starts between you and your listeners?

This one is for the broken hearted, the down-spirited. I want them to take a pair of headphones out by the water somewhere, bring some whiskey to sip, and hit play as the sun is going down. I think they’ll find that to be quite a satisfactory experience. This one’s for them. Skal!