The War on Drugs’ I Don’t Live Here Anymore is an album that somehow feels both familiar and otherworldly, like a half-remembered dream set to the perfect soundtrack. With its grand, sprawling arrangements and deeply introspective lyrics, it’s a record that sounds like it was crafted with surgical precision—but as frontman Adam Granduciel reveals, much of it was guided by chance, experimentation, and a whole lot of time spent chasing inspiration.
For an artist known for obsessive studio work, Granduciel doesn’t always start with a grand vision. “Some songs had an immediate identity,” he says, like I Don’t Wanna Wait, but others changed drastically as the recording process unfolded. “The early version of the title track sounds nothing like where we ended up,” he admits. “You start with something simple, and three years later, it’s this mishmash of inspiration, references, and happy accidents that somehow becomes an album.”
One of those happy accidents? The glitchy, alien-sounding intro on I Don’t Wanna Wait—which wasn’t planned at all. “A computer glitch made the keyboards freak out, and instead of fixing it, I embraced it,” he explains. “It gave the song this eerie, spaced-out quality, and we just kept layering on top of that.”
One of those extra layers came from a surprising source: Radiohead producer Nigel Godrich, who randomly walked into one of their Electric Lady studio sessions. “He was friends with our buddy Mike from Here We Go Magic,” Granduciel recalls. “And suddenly, Nigel Godrich is just standing there while we’re working.” The band tried to keep it together, but internally? “Everyone was losing their minds,” he laughs. “We’re all trying to play it cool, like, ‘Oh yeah, what’s up, man?’ But inside, it was like, ‘Holy [expletive], Nigel Godrich is right there.’”
While the album is filled with rich, poetic lyrics, Granduciel doesn’t always write with a deliberate theme in mind. “I never sit down and say, ‘This record is going to be about something,’” he says. “But as life happens, that seeps into the music.”
A lot of that life, it seems, revolves around movement—escaping, running, searching for something just out of reach. Lines like Maybe I was born too late for this lonely freedom fight (Change) or We danced to Desolation Row (I Don’t Live Here Anymore) capture that sense of wandering, both literal and emotional.
And sometimes, lyrics arrive from the most mundane places. Take Occasional Rain—a phrase Granduciel heard while absentmindedly listening to the weather report. “The weatherman just said it, and I thought, ‘What a great name for a song,’” he says.
Speaking of I Don’t Live Here Anymore’s nod to Dylan’s Desolation Row, does that mean a Bob Dylan cover might sneak into the setlist? “We used to do Tangled Up in Blue, and we also covered Born in Time,” Granduciel says. “But lately, my son Bruce has been obsessed with Absolutely Sweet Marie. He just points to the phone and says, ‘Bobby.’” So maybe the next tour will feature a Dylan deep cut, courtesy of a toddler’s excellent taste.
Another band with impeccable mood-setting abilities? Lo Moon, who will be joining The War on Drugs for their European tour. “We’re old friends, and the vibe between us just makes sense,” he says. While the band had to scrap some openers due to COVID precautions, they’re making up for it where they can.
Celebrity fans are always a trip, but one encounter still sticks with Granduciel. “Carrie Russell was cool, but if someone told me David Gilmour was in the audience, that might throw me off a little,” he admits. Turns out, it’s already happened.
“We were doing Jools Holland, and he was the non-musical guest, just sitting three feet away while we played Red Eyes,” he says. “I had a Pink Floyd sticker on one of my pedals, so I was just thinking, ‘Does he see this? What does he think? Is he judging me right now?’”
If the past few years have taught Granduciel anything, though, it’s that he belongs in these moments. “Honestly, working with Chris Nolan wasn’t even on my bucket list because I never thought it was possible,” he says. “But when something like that happens, you have to trust the process. Just take it all in, do the work, and enjoy the ride.”
That seems to be the perfect metaphor for I Don’t Live Here Anymore—an album shaped by time, patience, and unexpected magic.
Watch the interview above and then check out the video below.
