Real Estate: ‘Our awareness of the world we’re in has changed’
Frontman Martin Courtney and bassist Alex Bleeker speak to Roisin O'Connor about dealing with allegations of sexual misconduct against their ex-bandmate, and how they’ve replaced the golden-hued nostalgia of their previous work with themes of deeper realism
Real Estate are on edge. Yes, the US rock band who formed in Ridgewood, New Jersey, more than a decade ago and have become synonymous with a laidback sound built on languid guitar melodies, muted percussion, and frontman Martin Courtney’s airy vocals. But the conversation we’re currently having – arranged to promote their lustrous new album, The Main Thing – is a difficult one, because it’s about their ex-bandmate Matt Mondanile, whom they parted ways with in 2016 and haven’t really spoken about at length before.
“It was a complex, maddening, terrible situation,” Courtney says.
“Even now I’m hesitant to talk about him so much,” bassist Alex Bleeker says. There’s a pint in front of him but for now it remains untouched. “Because weirdly that gives him – I don’t know, some kind of power almost.”
Mondanile was a schoolfriend, with whom Courtney wrote songs that would eventually be released under the name Real Estate. In 2016, it was announced that he was leaving the band to focus on his project, Ducktails. But Courtney made a rather weighted comment in an interview later that same year: “He didn’t just quit. There’s more to it than that.”
Then, in October 2017, seven women came forward to accuse Mondanile of sexual misconduct, while his former girlfriend, the musician Julia Holter, alleged he had been emotionally abusive during their relationship. Best Coast songwriter Bethany Cosentino called him an “absolute creep”.
Mondanile initially denied the allegations, then released a statement expressing regret for his treatment of women. “I’m far from being a perfect person and I have made many stupid mistakes in my life but I am now fully aware of myself and feel confident that I will never make any of these mistakes again,” he said. “For any of the women I’ve directly caused pain to I am once again incalculably sorry.”
When the allegations emerged, a band statement explained they hadn’t revealed the real reason for their split with Mondanile because his accusers had requested privacy. “That’s the truth,” Bleeker says now. “The choice [to part ways with him] was clear. We came to understand what was going on, and when we did, we had to act.”
I sense they’re apprehensive about discussing the situation further, but feel compelled to point out that, as a woman, I find it depressingly rare to see a group of men so willing to speak up for women who call out unacceptable behaviour.
“It was easy,” Courtney shrugs. He continues: “‘Positive’ is not the right word, but at least for myself and I think like for all of us in the band it’s been very educational, and it’s been a really positive experience for us as like friends…”
“Well, no, don’t,” Bleeker interrupts.
“No, no, no,” Courtney backtracks.
“That’s not the right way to say it, it hasn’t been a positive experience,” Bleeker says, then almost together they decide: “It’s awareness.”
“What I’ve been discovering as we promote this new record is, I’ll say a kind of party line, like ‘It’s a different world that we’re putting music into’,” Bleeker says. “And I actually don’t think it is, but I think our awareness of the world we’re in has changed. On many different levels.”
“For sure,” Courtney says. “I think that’s well put.”
He and Bleeker remain close, perhaps even closer than before given what they’ve been through. At school, they bonded over a mutual love of bands such as Weezer and Built to Spill; now they poke fun and speak over one another with a brotherly familiarity. At first, Courtney seems like the more reserved of the two; his dark hair is swept away from his eyes, framed by large glasses that give him a look of serenity. Yet as our conversation moves away from the past and onto what they’re doing now, the 34-year-old proves to be just as voluble as his bandmate.
“It’s an idea of life becoming more complex as you get older,” Courtney suggests of the themes on The Main Thing. He has three children now, aged between one and three, and addresses his fears for their future in songs such as “A Silent World”, where he frets: “Can’t let you wander off / Out in this wicked world.”
“There’s definitely this feeling of wanting to shelter them,” he says. “That heart-breaking realisation that they will have to grapple someday with the things we’re grappling with now. And also realising, I’m a grown-up now! And we have to grapple with that s***.”
Which explains how the golden-hued nostalgia of previous records has been replaced by something more alert; around half the tracks run over four minutes, but never drag due to the way the band forgo traditional song structure. Breezy Seventies folk mingles with Chic-inspired disco, and the lounge-pop and tropicalia of early Stereolab. And the lyrics, with their talk of generational complacency and apocalyptic wastelands, leave a deeper mark. On The Main Thing, Courtney can “smell the smoke from every bridge” (“Friday”), and casts out old phantoms (“Gone”). This at a time when the rest of the world seems obsessed with nostalgia, from Brexiteers to Trump voters.
“Yeah, ‘Make America Great Again’,” Bleeker laughs. “It’s like, when was America great?”
“Maybe we’re cutting into what’s flawed about nostalgia,” Courtney suggests. “You look back on your past with these rose-coloured glasses, and there’s a tendency to smooth over the deeply complex history of it.”
Bands such as Real Estate get treated with a certain reverence by both fans and critics. They try to undercut this where they can, which explains the video for “Paper Cup” – starring a giant animatronic squirrel going through hard time – which manages to be at once uplifting, poignant and unnerving. “That’s a perfect embodiment of what we’re talking about,” Courtney says. “It’s a narrative animatronic video that has some comedic elements but actually almost beautifully, accidentally, mirrors a lot of the themes of the way that we might be feeling, five records in. It has depth.”
The Main Thing has pushed the band, perhaps harder than ever before, resulting in an evolution where each member has experimented with different roles – guitarist Julian Lynch wrote “Also a But”, while Kallman composed the languorous interlude “Sting”, in which the beat slips over onto the next track, “Silent World”. They brought in guest artists, too, such as Sylvan Esso’s Amelia Meath and Matt Barrick of The Walkmen. It’s paid off, but Courtney admits there was some push-and-pull as everyone adjusted to a different way of doing things.
“I have to give props to Martin for relinquishing this feeling of, ‘I wrote it though!’” Bleeker says. “Those are the things that make us grow and make the music better… or at least different. Because being in band is crazy,” he adds. “In a way it’s like a romantic relationship. It’s complicated, and there’s tension.”
The Main Thing is out on 28 February