Interview: Indie-Pop Artist Arlie Talks His New Album, The Devil, And His Soul

After two years on the road, indie-pop artist Arlie has released his latest album, a concept piece constructed in dialogue chapters and put together like a radio drama. The album, Someone You Can Believe In, dropped on December 12 via SoundOn. Recently, Arlie mastermind Nathaniel Banks took time out of his busy schedule to answer some questions for Total Apex Entertainment. In the interview, he talks about his new album, working with members of Switchfoot, being rabidly pursued by record labels, what he has in common with Chappell Roan, the fight for his soul, and several other topics.

Arlie — The Total Apex Entertainment Interview

Walk everyone through how you went from writing music in a Vanderbilt dorm room to signing with Atlantic Records.

Ooooh. Big question, pardon my big answer! To start, I was obsessed with composing music…to a degree that I had very little social life in college. There weren’t a lot of “serious artists” on campus at the time (since I graduated, I’ve heard this has changed quite a bit). I would have dropped out or transferred to somewhere else if I weren’t getting financial aid. But since I was, and since I was pretty introverted anyway, I decided to stay enrolled in order to learn as much as I could and stay near the musical lineage of Nashville.

I put out a solo EP in 2015 under another name, then took it down because the music didn’t feel like me. Through that period of frustration, I got a vision for what I wanted to make. In May of that year, I began the music that became the WAIT EP. I started really putting in the hours, learning to self-produce in a way that sounded like the kind of band music I loved. All this stuff is pretty common for a 20-year-old now, but at the time, it seemed like I was the only one approaching things this way.

As my final year of school began, some kind of switch flipped in me—determination to launch the new project finally outweighed perfectionism, and I started showing the recordings to people. I gathered an enthusiastic group of musicians to help me translate the songs live. My Soundcloud link of ten bedroom-rock tracks was passed around Vandy and Belmont kids, and there was a fun buzzing energy around the project. Thanks to my live band’s energy and creativity, the Arlie shows and the online presence had a post-internet, Dada-esque, existentially playful air about it.

A few other friends and supporters were crucial to that early stage. Aside from being the live drummer, Adam Lochemes was a trained audio engineer and great problem-solver, crucial to solving tech issues of any kind with the show. He helped me record overdubs on a couple of the early tracks. George, a composition major who played keyboard in my live band, was also acting as manager, helping book shows and make local connections. Carson, who played guitar in the live band, became my trusted go-to for critical feedback on creative choices. I also co-founded a sort of artist collective with George, Adam, and some other visual and performing artists, and we began putting on multimedia shows in combination with some dancers from a contemporary group called New Dialect.

Finally, with graduation impending, I mustered the courage to “officially” release the first track from the Soundcloud playlist, Big Fat Mouth. My friend Lucas (who is now a Buddhist monk) turned me on early to a platform called SubmitHub before it had become oversaturated. This triggered the Spotify algorithm, which attracted the Industry’s attention within a few months of the single’s release. The track came out at the perfect time when its sound was what kids wanted to hear, and the platform’s editorial playlisting was just starting to become a major music discovery channel.

Soon after that single release, the industry [representatives] came knocking, and seeing each other at the shows, they started to compete. It all spiraled very quickly. I brought a lawyer in first — he was really helpful. Then a prospective manager helped book the first real tour, which turned into a series of showcases for labels. In New York, there were A&R teams from 15 labels, and managers from five different management companies in a 150-capacity venue. Atlantic’s team didn’t even get involved through the showcases; they contacted me separately. To say it was surreal and disorienting would be an understatement. 

But actually, my real answer to this question is that just over a year before the record deal, in October 2016, I set a far-reaching goal for myself: that I was going to live off music alone by the end of October 2017. With nothing to lose, I decided it couldn’t hurt to try the affirmations and visualization methods I’d heard about — as a test, just to see what would happen. I didn’t have many expectations, but I tried my best to suspend disbelief. To my amazement, it totally worked! Sure, I’d been laying the groundwork for that moment my whole life, but still, the timing was too precise to be purely a coincidence. Maybe someone reading this is trying something similar? Hit me up if you discover anything interesting! I’m about to try another round of this type of mental experiment.

There was a moment at Lollapalooza 2023, when “the devil” tore some cardboard wings off of you during your performance. Could you explain the symbolism of that moment, your emotions at the time, and what that represented for your creative process going forward?

I was hoping it wouldn’t be too on-the-nose to imply the Major Label is the Devil — a tale as old as time. Make a deal with the Devil, sell your soul to get powers, musical or otherwise, then regret it. My twist on the myth is that I’ve been gradually taking my soul back without telling the Label, and they just found out! Actually, I truly believed when I signed to Atlantic that I wasn’t selling my soul or compromising my spirit at all. They were sneaky about that. I thought I’d won, but I hadn’t. Anyways, fast forward 6 years, I’d just gotten out of my record deal with Atlantic when I did this skit at Lolla (they fired everyone and restructured the company — I got dropped at the same time as Chappell Roan did). The skit felt like the right playful way to declare my independence to the public. 

But really, the Label isn’t the devil! They just act in that role sometimes. Even without the label, we all fight these same battles. You’ve got to declare your freedom and take your soul from the forces out there that want to keep you down, and often even more so, from the oppressive forces within your own psyche! 

Tell everyone about your unique new album, Someone You Can Believe In, and where the concept and format came from.

From the inception of the Arlie project, I knew that I would only be able to summon the amount of effort and sacrifice required to “make it” in music if I had created music I fully believed in and could stand behind. In this sense, “all I want is to be someone you can believe in” was the thesis from day 1 of the Arlie project. But really, it came from a series of life experiences that prompted songs, all of which circled around the theme of belief, from different angles. The chorus to the title track came to me in one of those flow states where you can’t even remember how it happened. But then every other song I wrote in this period wound up having a direct tie-in to that core theme. 

I’ve been wrestling with what Belief and Faith mean to me since I realized at age 17 that the limited worldview I was raised with didn’t match with my experience of the real world. I had to build a worldview from scratch. But as much as I tried to escape from the concepts altogether, in my constant search for truth and deeper understanding over the past decade, I have continued to find that faith and belief are essential. 

What was it like for you to work with Jon and Tim Foreman of Switchfoot on the song “Left Behind”?

This was a dream come true for me. I grew up listening to Switchfoot as a kid, in the days of the Satanic Panic, when my parents wouldn’t let me listen to anything that wasn’t explicitly Christian (Excepting a few old cassettes of the Beatles, the Beach Boys, James Taylor, and Harry Connick Jr). Switchfoot was the only real contemporary rock band that was Christ-centered enough to pass my parents’ critical filter. Thankfully, they are very much worthy of being a favorite band for life, with or without religious affiliation. Those early albums still hold up!

Writing with them in their studio in San Diego, I was still so nervous, a bit starstruck. I found myself talking faster than normal. They were incredibly kind and gracious towards me, patient and attentive, and the creative process was gentle and fluid. Jon made a few key revisions to the verses I brought in, then he had to go pick up his daughter from school, so Tim and I kept jamming until we found just the right chorus. It was also funny to make a title/hook that references a staple of the Christian bookstores we grew up going to. 

Did music play a big part in your childhood? When did you know that making music was something that you wanted to do?

Yes, it did. Music was my world, my escape, my connection to a sense of the divine, a place of play and fun and excitement, and also a place of meaning and truth. My mom was a dancer, and my dad used to sing and play guitar in an amateur rock and roll band. Dad taught me to pick out intervals by ear when I was about 4. I sang in the church choir a bit and was always tinkering with the toy electric piano we had in the living room. My most rigorous training was on alto saxophone, but we always had a guitar around. Once I discovered the magic of recording, I never wanted to do anything else. I didn’t have any idea what a career would look like, and I didn’t have the terminology at the time…but I knew I wanted to be a musical artist/composer since about age 12. 

When you listen to music now, who are you listening to?

I listen to classical music when I need to reset, which is quite often. Bach has been the one lately. He’s number one on my last two yearly wrapped stats. Can’t go wrong with Glen Gould’s rendition of the Goldberg Variations, or Yo-Yo Ma on the Cello Suites. I think it really does help organize your brain. Otherwise, I try to keep up with where culture is moving. I love Sharp Pins and Cameron Winter. I love The Hellp, Bassvictim, and Ear. I love the 1975, Daryl Johns, Mk.gee + Dijon, Andrew Aged, etc. I always revisit The Strokes, The Postal Service…and further back, the Velvet Underground, Carole King, Prince, The Beatles, The Zombies, The Who, Iggy Pop, The Beach Boys, etc. I try to balance between new exciting music that is making crowds go crazy right now, versus old things that have stood the test of time. 

How would you describe the state of the music industry today?

It’s in a state of rapid change. Most people who had a working way of operating ten years ago are now scrambling and grasping at straws. I don’t sense that anyone in the industry establishment really knows what they’re doing. It’s a great time to innovate, trust common sense over convention, and focus on in-person community. It’s a great time to slow down in order to get your priorities and values straight. I certainly don’t have it all figured out, but I’m working on it…and I’m keeping my ears to the ground. DM me if you want to talk more about these things. I’d love to know other people’s perspectives and ideas on all the above!

Now that the album is out, what is next for Arlie heading into 2026?

Now that I’ve relaunched with the best record I’ve ever made, it’s time to keep blasting into new territory. Books 2 and 3 are in the works, as well as a solo tour. I’m tired of social media algorithms, and I feel most people around me are too. [I’m] focused on making meaningful art, and building community and connection in person — giving real value to people’s lives, rather than building engagement on platforms that are working against our brain chemistry.

Where You Can Follow Arlie

For those who want to learn more about Arlie, you can follow him on Facebook, YouTube, and Instagram. Someone You Can Believe In is available to stream or on vinyl now.