There’s no one in Durham (my partner excluded) who I have known longer than Michael Pham. We became friends in late 2018 and grew closer through video games and mutual cat-sitting. He’s truly one of those golden retriever humans who radiates warmth and kindness.
Over the years, he’s evolved into an active musician in the Triangle music scene. He plays piano in Late Night Lowlights and Husbandos, the latter of which he started in 2021. I’ve seen him go from solo piano performances in local coffee houses to the legendary Berkeley Cafe and countless local businesses.
Michael wasn’t just eager to meet for an extended chat about his musical journey—he also picked the perfect (and quintessentially Michael) venue for it. On a crisp Saturday morning in early October, we gathered at Duke Gardens when more groundskeepers were out than actual visitors. I came prepared for the upper 40s temperatures like a weathered dad, complete with my hoodie-over-beanie, hand-me-down L.L.Bean jacket, and long johns under my jeans.
We found a pleasant spot on a stone bench, nestled amongst the trees and plants, and dodged sun rays as post-sunrise faded to mid-morning. It was serene, y’all. We watched a bird drink and bathe a mere five feet away from us while talking about music. I highly recommend you visit if you’re ever in Durham.
And if you can’t do that, then at least read on.
What have you been listening to lately?
Michael: I’m listening to this new EP called Dolphin by Tennyson and Leslie. It’s a lot of electronic music, not stereotypical rave music, but more like bedroom pop meets Zedd.
Luke Pretty [of Tennyson] is a very low-key guy but a phenomenal producer. He has a YouTube channel where he goes through each song on the album, breaking down the Logic file with like 500 tracks. It’s awesome to see all of the little nuances he does and musical tricks in full detail. He makes these subtle sounds that they would pass you by if you’re not looking for them.
What was your introduction to music? Was it discovering artists you liked or playing an instrument for the first time?
I started taking classical piano lessons at age 10. I had this crazy Russian piano teacher who had me doing hand exercises every day and learning all these composers whose names I could barely pronounce at that age. That’s just what you know Asian kids start with, I guess.
Eventually, I branched off into listening to songs on the radio and starting to emulate them on the piano. The first song I ever played by ear was “Clocks” by Coldplay. It’s a pretty simple song with three straight broken chords, but something about that awakened something in me. I finally realized I don’t just have to play dead people’s music; I can play whatever I want.
I learned more songs by ear and often messed up, but it would sound way better than the original. But that’s just jazz, baby! [laughs] Seriously, that was my first introduction to jazz, and I think that’s everyone’s first introduction to jazz: you mess up, but you think it sounds better.
That’s spot on. Sometimes, riffing on a song and doing something a little different is more fun. That makes it more engaging and feels like you’re flexing the skill. Hearing a song and saying, “I can play that,” makes a lot of sense as a catalyst for musicians. It’s like opening a whole new door of expression in music.
Exactly. It was so eye-opening. When you first start your musical journey, it feels like you have one path to go. But the more artists you listen to and the more music you’re exposed to opens up different paths, leading you into crazy new areas. Sometimes you go into this country forest where it’s all twang blue jeans, and others you may be in a jazz world that’s sultry, sexy, but also weird and eyebrow-raising.
Occasionally discordant.
I would say more than occasionally.
And yet, the cool thing about jazz is that the regular layman can appreciate it. It’s technical, but there’s some natural coolness, like when someone plays a crazy scale for a minute straight. And the more you learn about it, the cooler it gets. You learn about chords and modes, how they interact with each other, modulation, and stuff like that. Then you’re like, “This guy’s throwing in 20 concepts to this one-minute lick, and it’s just amazing that people can learn to do this stuff. Even the people reading this interview.
That journey from classic to playing pop songs by ear badly ultimately led me to composing. I thought, “This chord is way better than the original, so I’m just gonna stick with it.” And if you mess up 20 times in a row, you’ve got a new song. You’ve deviated so much from the original that it’s now your original. At 15, I figured if I could mess up a song badly enough to come up with something new, why not intentionally try to come up with something new? And I never stopped.
I did some solo piano performances in college, but at that time in my life, music wasn’t playing that big of a part yet. I knew I could always rely on it as an outlet for expression. All I needed was to sit at the keys and play out my emotions if I had a bad day. When I moved to North Carolina, I decided to play in a band and make music with other people. It was a very intentional move to make music the forefront of my life.
As you’ve been on this musical journey and have now played in multiple bands, how has your approach to songwriting evolved?
I am the primary composer in both of my bands. Late Night Lowlights was my first; we’ve always been very improvisational. The three of us usually get together and start jamming on a couple of chords, but I get bored quickly. It’s both a bad and good habit of mine. As a musician, it’s good to know when to sit on a couple of chords or a melody. But for me, it’s like, “I got to move. I’ve been playing these same four chords for two minutes now.”
Fortunately, my bandmates are adaptable because they’re great musicians. They’ll follow my lead and build off chord progressions with their own contributions. Our bassist, Aaron, doesn’t play bass like a regular bassist; he plays like a vocalist or lead guitarist. That’s great for me because my left hand is doing the part of a bassist. Gabe holds the beat and goes nuts to match what we’re putting out.
With Husbandos, I usually bring songs to the band. I write out these chord charts in an Excel sheet. The left-hand column is our parts and how many times you repeat them, and the right-hand column is just cells of chords. [laughs] It’s so weird that if I gave this to the best musician in the world, they would be unable to play any song we have. But if I bring it to my band and explain it, they’re pretty good at picking up.
When I’ve made a sheet, that means I have a song in mind. But each is different. One of our earliest tracks (“The King Hunt”) took me almost two years to write. It’s weird; I just didn’t know when it was done. I kept feeling like it needed a new bridge, a new verse, or an outro. But bringing it to the band and playing it with them made it all come together.
I’m super lucky to play with phenomenal musicians who can pick things up. I’m a very selfish player. I say, “Hey, this is the song I want to play. Can you guys play it?” they say, “Yeah!” I’ll bring the chords and the feeling I’m trying to aim for, and we turn it into a collaborative effort.
You have been very active playing shows these last few years. What has your experience been like playing out with multiple bands and sharing this music with people? Do you have any routines for getting psyched up, or are you always ready to go?
I can’t name a single time before a show where I’ve been like, “I’m gonna I’m gonna kill this. I’m gonna play it perfectly. It’s gonna go flawlessly.” It rarely does.
I do have a routine where I won’t listen to our band songs before a show; I’ll just play anything else. I don’t know how it started, but stepping away from it helps me play the best I can rather than obsessing over every bit. Otherwise, I feel like I’m on a self-destructive path. Ultimately, I want to have fun and become a better musician, and that’s the goal of both bands.
Also, part of being a jazz musician is the act of looking cool, and I don’t think listening to your music before you play is that cool. [laughs] You want to give off this air of nonchalance. That’s a huge word in jazz. You see these players, and they do it so effortlessly but could probably fall asleep at any moment.
Does the audience influence how you play or what you write?
I always say that you’re the first listener. You play this music and can mold it to how you want to listen to it.
I see my bandmates as the secondary listeners. When I bring a song to the table, I keep them in mind because I want something they would enjoy playing. If not, how can we tweak it to make it enjoyable for them? I want them to have fun, but I also want them to improve, so I write very technical songs.
For me, the audience is the tertiary, or passive, listener. They don’t have an active role in how I write music. I’ve never sat on the keyboard and said, “What’s the audience gonna like? What can get them to follow a band and make us successful?”
On the one hand, it’s a little self-destructive not to keep your consumer in mind. Music is a business, and sometimes, you have to think of it that way to get further in this industry. To that end, you do have to consider the listener. But more importantly, you should consider yourself, what you like playing, and what people around you want to play. That will set you apart from other bands and leave an impression, even if it’s just on a few people.
The last time I saw you, you mentioned that you have been learning how to mix your songs on your own. What’s that process like?
Oh yes. I said, “Mixing is like a musician’s form of eating your vegetables.”
You did! I still love that comparison.
I still feel that way, and I’m pretty adamant about it. All musicians, even ones with world-famous producers, will be involved in their work. I like the band The 1975, and their lead singer and drummer are listed as producers for nearly all of their songs. I can relate because they have these sections where it’s just a single piano, and that alone can be a multi-day decision: what piano sound, how much compression and reverb?
Mixing a song takes me several days when a professional producer could have it done in a few hours. On the one hand, it’s incredibly frustrating because you’re pretty much testing out all these different variables, throwing them into this machine, and getting a product that gets scrapped nine times out of ten. But it’s gratifying when you finally hit the exact sound you have in your head.
Do you try to make recordings sound as close to your live performance, or are they solely focused on the listening experience first?
We take what we play live and try to emulate that in the mixing. We don’t want to lie to the audience with a completely different mix from what we play live.
There is one part in our song “Glitterbop” where there’s a choir of saxophones at the end, but it’s just Casey doing the same line from different parts of the room with all these funky effects. There’s no way we could do it live because we only have so many hands. Would I just press the button, and then the choir would come alive at the end of the song? Probably not, because something is endearing about being human and not perfectly emulating the recording.
In Late Night Lowlights, Aaron never plays the same thing twice. His melodies are constantly changing, partly because he’s having fun but also because he’s a big Phish and Tool-head who does what he wants. It works because he’s talented, and it sounds good, which makes the live show worth it for the listener.
You searched for a vocalist for Husbandos for a while and finally brought someone onboard. What was that process like, and how did you settle on the right person to join the band?
Since moving here and playing in bands, I’ve always wanted a vocalist. Someone who could connect with the audience. I got tired of being a band that only musicians can appreciate because most people gravitate towards lyrics and vocals, sometimes ignoring the rest of the band. A vocalist brings a sort of two-way communication with the crowd that I just craved.
Aaron vetoed the vocalist idea in Late Night Lowlights, so I started Husbandos to make it happen. I interviewed and auditioned several vocalists but couldn’t find the right fit, so we stuck as an instrumental band for a couple of years. Then I was on Facebook one day, scrolling through the NC Gigging Musicians group, and I saw a clip of Mariah singing covers at an open mic. She had a fantastic voice, so I asked if she’d like to try out.
I sent her a couple of demo tracks, and she sent me some recordings back with her singing over them. I thought they sounded wonderful, so I brought her to the rest of the band, and she vibed really well. We meshed well together, which is a fantastic feeling for a musician in a band. You want to play with friends, not people you don’t like, and she was committed. She lives in Raleigh but drives for over 30 minutes to practice in Durham every week.
And listen, I know this is just a part-time thing for us, but that doesn’t diminish its importance. Music is my priority, and I hang out with my bandmates more than anyone else.
When you’re making art with people you like, there’s something special about that.
I never feel more human than when making music with others. And there’s no evolutionary benefits to it. It’s so weird if you think about it from an outside perspective. You get this group of strangers, sit them in one spot, and they’re just making different sounds come together in a good way.
What have been some of your favorite or more unique experiences that you’ve had playing shows in the Triangle?
One of my favorite experiences has been playing at the Carrboro Music Festival. They bring on all these local musicians, and it’s such a community event. All these bars and random places in Carrboro get together to have this music day, shut down business for a bit, and have local musicians play. It’s free to wander the city and listen to different artists.
Who are some of your favorite local bands you’ve played with?
- Teacup Gin is fabulous. I love their Great Gatsby energy. They play Prohibition-era jazz with a three and five-piece variation.
- Turnabout Players are also fantastic. They promote themselves as a video game music band. We’ve played with them several times, and they’re locked in with the music community.
- Organ Failure is an organ-based trio that does funk covers and originals.
- My bassist, Aaron, from Late Night Lowlights, is also in a live karaoke band called The Local Vocals. They’re a super fun band if you like karaoke and want to be a lead singer in your own band.
Do you have green flags and red flags when booking shows? How would you define those?
The biggest green flag is good communication, and the lack of it is a huge red flag. We’ve booked places where communication was low. They take weeks to email us back. We don’t have any contact phone numbers. They aren’t responsive on Instagram. We get to the venue on time for load-in, but no one is there. Things like that.
Sometimes, these aren’t even paid gigs; they are just us doing the business a favor, but they expect us to set up and do not give us the time of day.
But on the flip side, some huge green flags are when a booker appreciates our band and the people we’ve brought and treats us right. We’ll play places, and the drinks will be in them. It’s a collaboration at the end of the day. We get to do what we love most at a cool place, and you get more customers buying drinks.
Do you have any green flag venues that you’d want to name?
Old Mill Farm is an absolutely beautiful space. But what keeps us coming there most is the owner, Alec. He’s just such a down-to-earth and generous guy. He loves music and treats bands so well. If you look at their schedule, they have Fridays on the Farm almost every week, and they always have a diverse variety of musicians.
His team is also super supportive. They come in whenever we’re loading in, help us load, set up the mics, sound check, and take pictures for us. It’s such a great collaboration in a beautiful place, surrounded by amazing people.
What I love most about it is that it just exudes positivity. And that’s one of my favorite things about music. There’s just so much positivity that comes from it, whether it’s the music itself or the musicians, listeners, and community. And in these times, we deserve optimism and hope. We all need something that makes us feel good.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
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