Announcing the release of debut record, Young Old Man. The new album for indie alternative/folk artist Albert Kass was produced in his hometown of Los Angeles by Grammy nominated producer Billy Mohler. 

Kass has returned to writing and performing after two careers and two decades: “Call me a late bloomer. All the perceptions were there. But I didn’t feel I was called to music until now.”

The album is a coming-of-age tale—a culmination of years of original songwriting and a coalescing of sound, style and aesthetic. The young old man: broken-in yet modern, vintage vibes that echo of tomorrow. Raw with an edge but softened with bittersweet nostalgia, like the worn leather of a favorite jacket. 

In this interview spotlight, I chat with Albert about his latest release, challenges, technology and more.

Full Q&A along with links and music below.

Where are you from and what style of music do you create? (In your own words, not necessarily in marketing terms or by popular genre classifications.)

I was born and raised in Los Angeles. A child of the ’80s and a teen of the ’90s. I knew of Laurel Canyon as a street, not a music scene. Musically, I liked what I liked because it moved me and still do. Like friends, and a lot of new-wave ’80s pop, some songs get grandfathered in, and others have to work their way into your heart. I tend to write music that might sound folk-inspired, rock-driven, or some amalgam of the two. That said, a great song can exist in any and all genres.

What led you down this path of music and what motivates you to keep going?

I’ve been playing and singing on and off throughout my adult life. In the last few years, just before recording Young Old Man, songwriting seemed to take on a life of its own. I did not make the conscious decision to start playing again. It just seemed to manifest itself. It’s the way my body and soul express and purge angst, depression, and gratitude. I discovered The National late and listened to the song “Pink Rabbits” a lot. Somehow, someway, that song–I mean, it is a breakup song–created an opening. I had drawn everything I could emotionally from the song–the emotional dope–but it still left me in a way where I had a deeper chasm that nothing could fill. The only way I could seem to address that was by picking up my guitar and allowing my own bottled emotions to spill out. That is what ended up becoming “Shallow Sea” and others like “Darling,” “The Void,” and “Downward.” Each of them was my attempt to address the torrent that life had unleashed.

How is this new release different than previous ones? Were you trying to accomplish anything specific?

“Darling” represents a phenomenon that I’ve experienced growing up a superficial world that links happiness to some external goal, possession, or person. It’s the forever-moving goalpost out on the horizon. You get what you want, and the moment you do, it’s all but forgotten. That object of inspiration passes from desire to being taken for granted in the very same moment. So in the song, the lyrics reflect that with the idea, “there’s no peace, no quiet, in my head,” just the noise of the ego.

Name one or two challenges you face as an indie musician in this oversaturated, digital music age? How has technology helped you (since we know it does help)?

Breaking through the noise and distinguishing yourself as an artist can feel daunting. I don’t think any particular platform or technology helps to bridge that gap. But rather, meaningful connections and performances seem to be what propels an artist.

What was the last song you listened to?

Cannonball Adderley, Autumn Leaves

Which do you prefer? Vinyl? CDs? MP3s?

Vinyl

How about this one…. Do you prefer Spotify? Apple Music? Bandcamp? Or something else? Why?

I happen to use Spotify. There’s no particular loyalty there, tho. I do like the All Blues station on Pandora.

Where is the best place to connect with you online and discover more music?

Insta and Spotify
@albertkassmusic on Insta

@albertkass on Spotify

Anything else before we sign off?

At the end of the day, I’m doing what I’m doing not because I’m trying to get somewhere. I’m grateful for whatever comes of my career. Even if I were stuck on an island by myself, I would still be writing these songs and playing my heart out.