Vlad Holiday Takes Us On a Mental Vacation

Interview by Mossy Ross for BREED

Vlad Holiday’s music makes me long for the days when we could sit in crowded bars. Specifically, ones with dark corners, waning candles, and strong pours of bourbon. Where you could inconspicuously drink your cares away, feeling like it’s romantic rather than alcoholic-y, while Vlad’s voice carries you somewhere else. Letting you forget for a moment about the chaos in the world, and just focus on your broken heart.

Writing music that makes you feel a certain way, is a feat unto itself. Writing music that takes you to another time and place is another thing. Vlad’s music came from the past, to lead us into the future. He mixes a nostalgic sound with lyrics about modern times. He released his single “Rain” shortly after the BLM protests began (he gave 100% of the proceeds to the cause), and over a series of pitch-bending organ sounds and xylophones, he quietly sings of lost innocence and newfound guilt. It’s like a new take on emo, where instead of whining, he quietly and melodically mourns having to reckon with reality.

Mossy: What do you remember about growing up in Romania?

VH: It seems like a different life. I’m so disconnected from it at this point. But I go back sometimes. Most of my family is there, and my immediate family is here. I moved with my mom and my brother. My dad was already here for nine years at that point. It’s a long story, but basically the short of it is, he came here expecting us to follow him really shortly after. We were escaping the corrupt state that Romania was in. But our visas ended up taking around nine years to get. So it was really hard. It must have been especially hard for my parents. But I was raised by my mom, her mother, and my dad’s mother. Actually, that probably shaped a lot of who I am, being raised by three women.

Mossy: What do you think your life would be like if you’d been born here?

VH: I don’t know. I mean, it’s not something where I’m constantly thinking, “I’m foreign,” and that my perspective is different because of that. But it is always there. So I don’t know how I would be different if I was born here, but I definitely fell in love with music because I was such a loner, and I barely knew English when we moved here. And at the time, I don’t know if it was the climate in America or because kids are generally more mean, but I got a lot of “Go back to your country” from other kids at school. It wasn’t a cool time to be a foreigner.

Mossy: What year was it?

VH: 1999 was when I moved here, so around 2000. And then…

Mossy: 9/11. 

VH: Yeah, that did not help. I mean, obviously, I’m white and so many other kids had it way worse than me just based on the color of their skin. But still, just the general consensus felt like it was “If you’re not American, go back to your own country.” Which is a funny thing.

Mossy: In America, a lot of the attitude is “Us against the rest of the world.” So it doesn’t really matter where you’re from. If you’re not from here, you can be kind of isolated.

VH: Yeah, and it’s a silly concept, especially if you look back at America and how it was founded. But that changed, and when I got to high school it was like, “Oh your name’s Vlad, that’s awesome.” Before it was more like, “Why is your name not like, Jack or Mike or John?” And it flipped and, at that point, I had been doing music a little while. So maybe that gave me a bit of confidence to start a band and all that. But at first, I definitely started to play music because it was an escape, you know? And it was more fun than anything else.

Mossy: What’s a typical day in the life for you?

VH: It’s a little different now. I wake up…pretty late. Walk my dog. And sometimes I’ll tell myself, “Alright I’m not gonna do anything today.” I’m just gonna try to, like, survive, and maybe try out new experiences. I’ve been going to this place called The Chess Forum, and I’m just trying to experience new things and meet new people to have new things to write about. Not just constantly be trying to be productive, or to write all the time. Because I’ve hit a lot of roadblocks. But the other day I wrote a song I really like for the first time maybe since March (newly released called, “I’ll Probably Never Be Somebody”). So that’s a good thing. I’m feelin’ pretty good right now. (Smiles) But yeah, for the most part, 80 or 90% of this lockdown has been unproductive, me trying to be productive, or me just being like, screw it, I’m gonna take some time off. But then I felt like taking so much time off made it hard to get back into the rhythm of it. With live music gone, which was always my absolute favorite part of what I do, it’s been hard to keep motivated.

Mossy: When you say “survive,” what do you mean?

VH: Just living, and trying to be okay with feeling like I have no purpose on this planet. (Laughs) I’m very proud of what I’ve accomplished so far, but some days I’m not. I would say, most days I’m not. But I also, I mean, I get to make music whenever I want. I can take months off, it doesn’t matter. And it’s all paid for by my music. I live in New York City, the greatest city in the world. And my Spotify streams are basically paying my rent because I did it all DIY without a label. I’m fucking lucky. But I was never handed anything, I’ve been extremely persistent. I’ve been doing this professionally since I was fifteen because that’s when I started my first band. We fought hard and got a record deal, and when I was seventeen I left high school, toured everywhere, and I’ve been grinding it ever since. So it’s been more than half of my life now, and I’m finally at a place where it’s sustainable. So I’m very lucky in that sense, and I’m very lucky to have anybody that really cares about what I do. And I guess the goal is to grow that further so that I can tour more. Or so I can print vinyl, pay my band, have a stage production I’m proud of. It’s good to always want more, but it can be pretty bad if you don’t take a step back and enjoy what you have. If I’m broke again, I’m not gonna stop doing this. But yeah, it’s hard to realize that every day, you know? And that’s fine. If I felt like everything’s a-okay all the time, what would I write about? (Laughs) So I feel like any artist treads that line of being content, and wanting more. And it’s kinda dangerous if you’re swaying to one side more than the other. But trying to find that balance is kind of the key. Which is why sometimes I try to be okay and happy with what I’ve accomplished and just let myself take in this city. Let myself just try to go play chess in Washington Square Park. I took a lesson from this guy with no teeth, and he was so, so passionate about the game, and so poetic about how he spoke about it all. And it was really an amazing experience for me and put things in perspective. So I’m trying to put myself in these situations where I normally wouldn’t find myself. Also, I’m fuckin’ good at chess now. (Laughs) So that’s what I mean by trying to get by and survive. Sometimes you have to be okay with what’s there, but also keep pushing yourself. It’s a whole dance. And sometimes it gets a bit dark. And it’s fine, it happens. You wouldn’t have the great days without the others.

Mossy: Do you feel like you put a lot of pressure on yourself?

VH: Yeah, a shit ton.

Mossy: Like if you don’t write a song a week or something?

VH: Nah, I actually work much slower than that. But at the beginning of quarantine, I wrote a whole album pretty much. Around ten or eleven songs. All of them were about 60 to 70% of the way there, but I can’t revisit them. I told myself it’ll probably be a year before I can revisit these songs, to then take them that extra final step. That’s how it works for me a lot of the time. Sometimes it just happens, and then sometimes I’m like, “If I keep working on this, I’m gonna hate it.” I need to let it breathe. Come back with a new perspective and fresh ears. And that’s a process that can’t really be rushed.

Mossy: I feel like that’s exactly what music should be, and what it hasn’t been for at least a couple of decades. I mean, it’s always been about making money for labels, but it’s been taken to a different level in the last twenty years that’s really stifling for creativity.

VH: Well it’s because of streaming. Because it’s a single-based market, and you just have to keep staying active and relevant. That’s what they all tell you. So everybody’s just constantly putting out stuff that’s mediocre, even to them. But in their head at least they’re staying active, and they can put a new photo up, and have more likes and follows. They can grow their fanbase, and Spotify can maybe push it. It all gets a bit too watered down. Because the idea of an album is gone at the moment. And if you’re only writing songs as singles, then that’s also a terrible thing for creativity, because you start thinking, “Okay what’s a single? These are the formulas that I know and like.” And then you start doing that again and again and again until you’re just creating a watered-down version of what you did before. You’re not experimenting at all. I’m in a lucky place because I’m my own producer, so I can afford to experiment. It doesn’t matter if it takes months. I’ve always needed to put quality first, or my idea of it at least. There’s no such thing as an obviously good song. But that’s what it is. Just my taste, the older I get, the more I do this, gets more refined, or clearer to me. And as a producer, I understand how to get that more. And as a songwriter, I chase that more. So I’m just kind of waiting for songs to happen, and I’m trying not to force them. Because it gets toxic when you start thinking of it too much as a job rather than a passion. I’ve been through a lot of those moments in my career, or with old bands talking to major labels. They promise all this stuff, and you start writing songs you think the A&R people wanna hear. It’s a horrible, horrible game. If any musicians read this, do not play that game. Just do what you like, and there’s bound to be one other person that likes the same things you do out there. It’s also just really hard sometimes to know what you like. And you get jaded. I know people where their only opinion on music is what music they don’t like. And that’s not a good headspace to be in, with art or anything in general.

Mossy: Do you have any stand out “starving artist” stories?

VH: One that comes to mind is touring and sleeping in the van, in places where you’d get woken up in the middle of the night to someone banging on your window, saying you can’t sleep there. And then you’d have to start driving, all while being just so emotionally and physically drained, and feeling like you’re a homeless person. Like you’re not even welcome to sleep in a parking lot. It’s a bit soul crushing. And that’s all tied into, let’s say label problems, and shows that aren’t what were promised. That’s happened a lot. Or not even being able to afford to take a subway to a studio session. I was trying to do co-writes for a while for my publishing company, which turns out was actually good for my career later on. But in the beginning I was like, “I need to get there somehow, can you lend me some money so I can pay for the subway?” And then I would request, something like, twenty-five dollar checks every now and then. And it would be a whole process for those checks to even get to me. Man, that was hard, and I felt like shit. Also, when people tell me, “You should be so much more successful than you are!” Which almost seems like a compliment. (Laughs) And it is! But then you keep hearing that for fifteen years and it’s like, man obviously something is wrong. Either with me or the industry. (Laughs)

Mossy: (Laughs) It’s like when people say you look good for your age!

VH: Yeah! I mean, I get it, and I know that nobody means that in a bad way. But it’s like shit, every other day, I’ll see a YouTube comment that says, “Wow that’s got so little views! So underrated!” (Laughs) Thanks. (Laughs) But I get that. And I mean, obviously I agree, because I wouldn’t be doing what I do if I didn’t believe in my music. It’s just a funny thing to keep hearing. Hopefully I’ll get to the next level, but I’m starting to think if I don’t, I need to be okay with where I am. Kind of build a little pocket for myself to be able to keep doing this for my whole life. That’s what I’m kind of focusing on. My early years, I think with any musician… I wanted to play sold out shows. I wanted to be playing in front of tons of people and get that rush all the time, and not have to do anything else. Which is great, and it can happen. But if that’s the only goal, it’s really tough, because it’s completely out of your hands. And you start forgetting about songwriting. You start forgetting about the good things that do happen. It’s really easy to fall into a deep, dark hole, and that’s not a good place to be in.

Mossy: I spoke to a producer a few years ago, who told me that when major labels decide whether or not to sign an artist, they don’t even listen to their music anymore. The artist just needs to have at least half a million Instagram followers, and two percent engagement.

VH: To some degree I’m sure that happens, and that’s ridiculous. Because you know what that means? That the artist who gets handed those deals, and the radio and playlist slots, cares more about building that online personality than the art. Or maybe somehow just fell into it because of their proximity to fame. But at the core of who they were when they started, they cared more about their image, likes, followers, than the actual music. And that kind of says something, if those are the only people that are going to get selected anyway. That’s not a great business model.

Mossy: It also speaks to our culture. Our ears aren’t trained to appreciate music as an art form. I think now a lot of people who make it in music are groomed at a young age to only care about being huge on social media, instead of leaving a cultural or artistic legacy.

VH: It’s the same with modeling too. My wife is a model, and that whole industry is also all about Instagram followers.

Mossy: It sucks that you have to care so much about social media if you want to advance yourself.

VH: Yeah, it’s crazy that you have to be so focused on that to have a relevant career. But in the end, who cares? None of that matters anyway. Personally, I’m just trying to live in the moment as much as I can, focus on the music, and do what I love as best and as honestly as I can. 

About the Photographer for this story, Nicole Mago:

Nicole Mago is a Brooklyn-based portrait and music documentary photographer.

“It’s always such a great experience creating art with a good friend. Having known Vlad for many years, I find it easy to step out of my comfort zone, to push myself to see differently and be a little more experimental with how I shoot. We each bring our own ideas and perspectives to the table and communicating those ideas with one another feels effortless.

I love environmental portraiture, and shooting subjects in their personal spaces is something I’m drawn to. I was excited to shoot Vlad in his new apartment from the moment I saw the space.”

To Find Vlad Holiday on Instagram: @vladholiday

To Find Nicole Mago on Instagram: @nicolemago

To Find Mossy Ross on Instagram: @moss.e.ross

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