Martin Saint’s latest solo record, ‘The Seekers,’ hums like an exposed wire, warm to the touch and faintly dangerous.

These are songs born in solitude but made to haunt the spaces between us. After years of leading the band The Ember Glows, Saint is exploring his own quiet, personal stories. Lyrically, he travels through wide landscapes, from Dostoevsky’s gambling dens and Kerouac’s backseat poems to the ruins of personal belief. You can almost hear echoes of old movies, the friction of Catholic guilt, and the hush of a Montreal winter night. The music cradles these ideas gently, like a flame shielded from the wind. Saint doesn’t pretend to have any answers. He writes because he has questions he can’t quite put into words. He sings because sometimes it’s the only way to truly say anything at all. The album’s sound, created with friends instead of polished by producers, shifts between a soft, intimate glow and a sudden, electric clarity. It’s imperfect, which makes it feel all the more real.

What stays with you is the strange comfort of hearing someone who is also lost in the fog, searching for something they can’t name, and choosing to sing about it anyway.

“I do not like to waste any material I believe in.”

Alright Martin, let’s cut to it. ‘Look At Me That Way’ dropped, … taken from ‘The Seekers,’ and it feels like a new chapter. After The Ember Glows, did you ever have that moment of “Is this solo thing actually the thing?” Or was it always just a natural progression for you?

Martin Saint: It went without saying for me. I had already started on this solo venture in 2019, almost by accident because I had so many songs already written I had never had a chance to place within a band context. Since I do not like to waste any material I believe in, I decided I would just go ahead and release them under my name. Then, I caught the bug and decided to do more on top of what I was already doing with the band. So when The Ember Glows ended, it was only natural that I should carry on.

You’ve got this intriguing blend of influences – Nick Cave, Bauhaus, The Mission, even a whiff of The Doors. If you were stuck on a desert island and could only bring one album from each of those acts, what are you packing and why? And don’t tell me it’s their greatest hits!

On a desert island I would not bring anything with vocals or remotely close to anything I do musically. I get enough of that as it is and would surely need some escape. Most likely some Glenn Gould playing Bach and some ragas by Ravi Shankar. But I will play along and list one album by each. By Nick Cave I would take ‘Push The Sky Away’ for the groove and atmosphere, Bauhaus it would be ‘Mask,’ ‘Children’ by The Mission, a grandiose album, and The Doors, probably ‘L.A. Woman’ for the angst and rawness. You feel the end is very near.

Okay, so ‘Seekers’ is all about this “constant search for something bigger than us.” That’s a heavy concept. When you’re writing, are you consciously trying to unravel that search, or do the lyrics just kinda spill out and you realize the theme after the fact?

It was not planned this way. The songs were written within a short time-frame so on a subconscious level there is no doubt that whatever was going on in my life, whatever ideas I was absorbing at the time came to play as the songs took shape.

I do not like to force anything, any heavy-handed concept, it would sound too contrived. I find it more interesting to let these things flow naturally and in the end they take on a life of their own. It is just later on in hindsight that you start realizing that there are some common threads pulling in one direction. It is not just the words, it is more of an undertone.

I personally do not find it so heavy, it is more a case of observing and asking yourself some questions while being fully aware you will never really find the answers, and that is okay. Sometimes you just want to listen to rocking songs and have a good time and that is totally fine, but I do not see why music should necessarily stay away from expressing deep personal thoughts and asking difficult questions. I do not mean this album per se, I mean in general.

If I am to have lyrics on top of my music, then I want them to be strong enough to stand on their own. I have zero interest in dumping whatever boring, formulaic clichés and easy rhymes on top of a groove because I need some words, then drown the voice down to minus one hundred and drown it with reverb up to ten in the mix.

There is a strong longing for connection on this album, I feel. Whether with loved ones, oneself, or God, the universe, whatever you want to call it.

Sometimes I express it in a more joyful way, other times it is a little more ominous. In the end, this is all very subjective. Once it is out there, people are going to make what they want of it, based on where they are at in their own lives and that is the beauty of it. I have no control over people’s reactions, if they like it or not.

Home recording for half the album, then into Studio Orange with Frank Bones. What was the vibe like making that jump? Was it a relief to hand over the sticks and let someone else bash away, or did you have to bite your tongue a few times?

I never bit my tongue once because I worked with someone I fully trusted and I had complete faith in the end result. It was at once very efficient, a lot of fun, and a big relief for sure. It took a big weight off of me as I could let him handle the drums with some basic direction, and I greatly benefited from his artistic input when it came time to redo the vocals and the final mix.

Speaking of Frank, how did that collaboration come about? Was it a “Hey man, got some tracks, wanna lay down some drums?” kind of call, or was there more of a master plan there to elevate the production?

Again, that was not planned either. So much unpredictability with this particular album. More so than in anything else I have ever done. I had gone as far as I could with the limited means I have at home. I thought that was it, I was going to put it out just like I had done with my previous releases. But then I got lucky. My friend Frank offered to get involved and take the recording to new heights. I did not expect this at all. But now I have been very spoiled and want to reach the same, or even higher, standards for everything else I want to do.

“Personal friends have enriched the end result with stellar guest spots.” That sounds like a jam session turned album. Give us the dirt: who showed up, what did they bring to the table, and did anyone surprise you with their input?

Solo artist does not have to mean alone by yourself. I am not a jammer at all, actually. The songs were set, the arrangements too, but I always leave room for whoever I invite to play to express themselves. There is no point in having talented musicians show up if it is just to tell them what to do note by note, beat by beat. These are all people I like and care about, so that adds an extra human touch I am very fond of. I love collaborations, guest spots, and it is a favour I love returning for others too if I am asked.

So I had Julie Abel on piano because she can do in five minutes what I can do in a half-hour, and it will be played ten times better. The album opens with ‘Airwaves’ and her beautiful piano line. I asked Delphine Dupont from Montreal’s power-trio Lagora to surprise me with some dirty bluesy guitar on ‘Look At Me That Way.’ Her improvised lines became a major hook in the song. She also added some eerie vocal lines on ‘In The Dark,’ again with very minimal guidance. My ex-bandmate with The Ember Glows, Kevin Hills, currently with Scene Noir and Seaver, played some bass on two tracks, particularly dazzling on ‘Airwaves.’ Hugo Joyal of The Mirrors and HJ & The Constellations laid down some gorgeous pedal steel on ‘Inner Child,’ Jack Vignavong added a great groove on bass on the same song. Ursa Minor of SU sang beautiful Julie Cruise-like background vocals on ‘Midnight Ghost’ and of course, Frank Bones played drums and percussion on all the songs.

“I have no taboos about writing very vulnerable songs.”

‘Seekers’ delves into both the positive and negative aspects of longing: love, peace, nature, but also power and greed. Is there one side of that coin that you find yourself gravitating towards more in your songwriting? Or is it always a dance between the two?

Very good question. I try not to intellectualize these things too much, think as little as possible. My overall goal is to cover as wide an emotional and mood range as possible. So there are times where I might gravitate more towards one or the other but then like you said, I will want to dance back and swing the pendulum a little. The Yin and the Yang. I would not want to just write sweet songs because I believe that art is not there to make us feel overly comfortable about ourselves all the time. It is good to find things disturbing and troubling at times. It is good to look at ourselves with brutal honesty as human beings, as nations, entities. What drives us. On the other hand, I do not want to be pegged as just writing dark songs for the sake of being dark. That is not the goal either. I have no taboos about writing very vulnerable songs, whether about love or introspection, if I feel so inclined.

From 2019 to 2024 with The Ember Glows, and now four solo albums under your belt before ‘Seekers.’ That’s a serious output. What keeps that creative engine running? Do you ever just stare at a blank page and think, “Nope, nothing today”?

Of course. There are days that no matter what I do, it comes out as complete garbage. Then it is wise to just put it away and completely forget about music. These moments keep you humble when it is easy to get too big for your britches. It makes you appreciate the magical moments all the more. You cannot have one without the other. I like to think I am never as good or as bad as I might be tempted to think I am. One of the things I found most liberating a few years back is when I decided to stop trying to be too good. I do not fear failure, I just go for it, and sometimes something that initially sounded like absolute shit can lead you somewhere else if you let it sit a bit. It is easy to put too much pressure on yourself and try to be too clever for your own good.

Ultimately, it really is a labour of love. Self-expression, passion pure and simple. That is what keeps me going, even when I have no one to tell me I am this or that. I just carry on no matter what because I love it and I feel the need to do it. Even when I do decide I need a break or feel tapped out, it does not take long before I am back at it, for better or for worse. I am obviously over the moon when people love what I do, but I have to please myself first and foremost.

You’ve got this poetic lyrical style. Are there any particular poets or authors that really resonate with you and perhaps subtly seep into your writing process? Beyond the usual suspects, I mean.

I have a background in literature, cinema, and history so that tends to permeate my lyrics here and there. I draw influences from outside music a lot. ‘Lucky 7’ on ‘Seekers,’ for instance, is partly drawn from Fyodor Dostoyevsky’s The Gambler novel. His short story The Double also had to do, that and the pandemic shutdown, with my song of the same title on my album ‘Radio Murmurs.’ Film noir imagery is something I go for at times too.

With my former band Citylake, the song ‘Sons From The Soil’ was a mixture of Nietzsche’s Thus Spoke Zarathustra and my own life experience. ‘Midnight Ghost’ were two words coined by Jack Kerouac in On The Road, albeit in a very different context. I loved the image so much I used it to write a love song.

William Blake for the romantic imagery. I have a new unreleased song that originated from Tarkovsky’s movie Stalker. Charles Bukowski for the merciless, take-no-prisoners, punch-in-the-gut style. Patti Smith, The Doors, and Leonard Cohen, even Happy Mondays, Nick Cave, The The for joining poetry and music. The Beat poets, haikus, I could go on and on.

I am also interested in spirituality, religious themes, so this will show up here and there too, whether I want it to or not. When I write for Portmanteau, a part-time electro thing I do with my friend DJ Sarcastic, my writing style remains poetic but more minimal.

I like to keep my mind receptive to all sorts of new ideas, both musically and lyrically. If I had to make the same record over and over again just to play it safe, I would be bored to tears and retire from music right now.

The jump in production value on ‘Seekers’ is highlighted. Was there a specific moment or a particular track where you heard it back and thought, “Yeah, this is it. This is the sound I’ve been chasing”?

Since I was quite advanced in the process, I was already set on what I wanted to hear. However, right off the bat during the first session at Studio Orange, once the first two bars of drums on Waiting For The Moon came on, I knew right away this had reached another level.

Beyond the music itself, what does “seeking” mean to Martin Saint in everyday life? Are you a hiker, a philosopher, a quiet observer? What fills your cup when you’re not in the studio or on stage?

I absolutely loathe hiking, let us make that clear. If I go to the mountain I will lounge about by a tree, with a guitar maybe, or walk at a very leisurely pace in the snow if we are in winter, sit on a tree stump and take in the silence. I feel a strong kinship with cats, who I consider to be my spirit animal. I love swimming, it helps me not think of anything. Apart from that, I am a very curious person about all sorts of subjects, the quiet type, really. It is important to me to retain my openness to learn, to wonder. That is what the song ‘Inner Child’ is about. I need balance, and that also includes the occasional wild night out, seeking absolutely no wisdom at all. Generally, I am slow-paced, naturally calm in a loud and hectic world. You can see why this can be challenging. I save all my extroverted instincts for when I perform. Other than that I like my peace and solitude.

Alright, last one. If ‘Look At Me That Way’ was a scene in a movie, what’s happening?

Hahahaha, I like how you picked the dirtiest song on the album.
So here are three variations.

Okay, so here is the PG-13 version.
The scene is set in some boring white picket fence conservative American town in the 1950s, and some clean-cut couple just got married, walks out of the church while everyone is throwing rice at them. Meanwhile, the nasty opening riff blasts out as the couple exchange some knowing looks. Who knows, this contrast is so incredibly lame that it just might work.

Or we have this very hot and slow striptease in a steamy, smoky, Twin Peaks-like bar or some decadent Berlin dive. But it is in the background, not all that visible. It is implied more than seen, left to our imagination. During that time we have two mysterious characters exchanging very enigmatic lines no one can decipher.

Finally, a masked ball type of scene.

You pick.

Klemen Breznikar

Headline photo: Jean-Sébastien Vaillancourt

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