Madison’s Eric Kjelland was already in an emotional place when his band, The Mascot Theory, began recording songs for their new album “Cosmic Hit and Run.” His dad had died the year before after a long illness, and Kjelland had poured his grief into many of the songs on the album.
And then Kjelland got his own diagnosis.
After months of severe headaches and blurred visions, Kjelland was diagnosed with having a rare and potentially fatal brain illness called an arteriovenous fistula. In the spring, in the months leading up to his scheduled brain surgery, Kjelland felt a sense of urgency to finish the record.
“The night I had the procedure, I was all wired up in a hospital room in the middle of the night,” he said. “They wake you up every hour to check cognitive stuff, so I wasn’t sleeping anyway. That was the first time I listened to this album all the way through with the first mix.
“That’s an experience I will never forget,” he said. “I hope it’s never duplicated.”
While he still gets headaches and has to be careful about overexerting himself, the brain illness is no longer life-threatening thanks to the surgery. And, with the album being released on Oct. 3, The Mascot Theory is celebrating both the album and Kjelland’s new lease on life. On Oct. 5, they will perform at Atwood Music Hall, in a show that includes an onstage conversation with journalist Teri Barr.
Kjelland talked about the inspirations for making the album and where he goes from here:
First of all, how are you feeling?
I’m still recovering. Some days are really, really good. Some days not so good. We haven't had to cancel any shows or anything, but there's definitely sometimes where I'm just like, super worn out, super tired. I get headaches, dizziness, all these different symptoms that just sort of come and go. So it's just kind of trying to manage that and really trying to take it easy.
Listening to the album, I can’t help but interpret the lyrics as being about your illness. I was floored that they were mostly written beforehand, when you were grieving your dad.
Some of the lyrics during the recording of it, I actually did change some lyrics as I was going through all of my medical stuff, especially the very last song on the album, “Still Here.” That was kind of the biggest change. Trying to record this while going through what I went through was a trip, and really gave me a whole different perspective. It was no longer just about the grieving process. It was like, “What’s my fate going to be?”
The album is very expansive and cinematic, and uses a lot of found sounds. Was that always the plan?
My guitar player and I were driving to Colorado a couple of years ago. It's like a 14-hour drive and we were just listening to all kinds of our favorite music. We realized we had a lot of things in common, like Pink Floyd albums, you know, those concept albums that they used to make. And we're like, “Man, [it] would be really fun to do that someday, where everything lyrically tied together, but also musically, paying attention to what the songs are in.”
We just made a plan then, okay, we're going to use found sounds. We're going to take our phones out and record trains and all kinds of elements. That was our plan with this whole album.
Was your dad a musician?
He was a bass player and singer. He and my mom and my aunt actually played in a Christian rock band back in the 80s and sort of ended up as a worship team at a church in Darlington. They always had great harmonies.
And then my dad was this incredible bass player. He really loved the Beatles. Unfortunately, he and I only got to perform together a couple of times. We did a Beatles set opening for one of my old college bands. And actually, a performance of that is on the album.
There's a part towards the end of one of the songs where it kind of goes into radio static, and then you hear the Beatles’ “I’ll Be Back.” That’s my Dad and I, one of the only times we performed together, at the Mineral Point Opera House.
