Becoming The Madelines

Someone sent me The Madelines’ new single, and I immediately knew I wanted to write about them. I put “Amy” on repeat. I press play on the Q, on my way home to Brooklyn. It makes me want to turn it up, so I turn it up. Shimmering, fuzzy guitars, a vocal that sounds like it was probably recorded through some old mic, slightly hazy but still clear. For a second, it feels like the early 2000s again, and it feels great to be back. But the story behind “Amy” is more complicated than it seems, somewhere between desperately wanting to be with someone and wanting them to just leave you alone. “Oh I act so good / But I feel so bad,” the beginning of what already feels like the end.

“Amy” is the first of four singles leading up to the band’s debut full-length album. And if you think you’ve already figured out The Madelines, Owen has a warning: “Amy is just one small side of the band. The other songs on the record go in pretty different directions.”

We spoke with Owen Tressider about French cookies, perfect records, weird gigs, and becoming The Madelines. PRESS PLAY.

What’s the story behind The Madelines?

Owen Tressider: Originally, I always imagined it spelled “Madeleine,” like the French cookie. My mom’s Tante Madeleine was from Paris, and she was one of these larger-than-life European characters I grew up around, as was my Bonne-Mama, who was Belgian and came to the US in the late ’50s. So there was always this French/European influence in my family, people speaking French, talking about art. I didn’t realize until I got older how much that shaped me and the way I look at art and music.

The actual band name came together in a much less romantic way. In the early days, we were still playing under my name and were supposed to do this random podcast in a dilapidated building in Midtown. We waited around forever and the guy never showed up, so we ended up at a sports bar downtown near Parsons, having a bunch of drinks and throwing around band names.

Weirdly, at the time, everyone in the band except me was dating a girl named Madeleine. Ralph’s girlfriend suggested The Madelines, and it was the first name anybody said that I could actually picture lit up in huge letters behind us onstage. That was pretty much it. It connected back to something personal for me, but also somehow belonged to the band.

Photography: Mars Alba


What was the record that first made you think, “Fuck, I want to make music”? What was it about that album that hit you so hard?

Owen: Probably The Best of Led Zeppelin: Early Days & Latter Days, the compilation where they’re all dressed like astronauts on the cover. I was pretty young, and every song on there blew my mind. It activated something in me physically. I wanted to move, I wanted to perform, and I wanted to figure out how to make music that could make somebody else feel the way those songs made me feel.

I remember being in my room blasting that CD on the stereo, dancing around and trying to emulate Robert Plant, and turning around to see my dad standing there. I was so embarrassed. Growing up, my dad was always playing The Beatles, Wilco and The Feelies, he’s a Feelies superfan, but I remember asking him why he’d never put me onto Zeppelin. He told me he’d gotten burned out on them as a teenager because they were so overplayed. That’s when I really started venturing out, listening to different genres and opening my mind to whatever I could find.

Not long after that, I found The Velvet Underground & Nico, which hit me in a completely different way. I think I was around 10, and there was something about the darkness and rawness of Lou Reed’s lyrics that resonated with me in a way other music hadn’t. I remember loving “Venus in Furs,” and my dad actually took the CD from me and made me a copy without that song because he thought it was “too sexual” for me to listen to, but he left “Heroin” on there, which I thought was funny. Zeppelin made me want to play music, and the Velvet Underground made me want to write it. First Impressions of Earth by The Strokes was another huge one for me around that time. Those three records probably did a lot of the damage.


New York has been home to so many great bands. Do you think there’s something in the water here? What is it about the city that inspires so much great music?

Owen: I think New York forces you to have some kind of identity. There are so many people here making music and so many insanely talented bands that just being good isn’t really enough. You have to figure out what it is about your band that makes somebody stop and pay attention. There’s also just music everywhere. You go see your friend’s band, meet somebody outside afterward, and then six months later they’re playing on your record or you’re sharing a bill somewhere. Our rehearsal space is literally a shipping container at Rubulad, surrounded by other musicians and artists. The Madelines wouldn’t be the same band if we were making this record somewhere else. So yeah, maybe there’s something in the water, or maybe we’re all just living on top of each other.


If we threw three records into a blender to make the sound of The Madelines, which three would you pick, and why?

Owen: So the first and most obvious answer is Is This It by The Strokes. I know that’s probably the most predictable thing a New York guitar band could say, but to me, it’s a perfect album. There isn’t a wasted moment on that record. The songs sound simple without actually being simple, every instrument has its own place, and the whole album just feels effortless. The Strokes did for my generation what bands like The Velvet Underground, Jonathan Richman and The Pixies had done before them—they made a whole bunch of kids want to pick up instruments and start bands, and I was definitely one of them.

Then I’d say Hung at Heart by The Growlers. I love the swampiness of those early records, the spooky, surfy guitars mixed with these really beautiful, almost gothic love songs. They could make something feel kind of dark and fucked up but still really romantic at the same time. I’ve always loved that combination, and I think some of that definitely finds its way into our music.

“We’re still figuring out what The Madelines can be, and I think that’s probably the most exciting part.”

The real secret ingredient is probably the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Ralph is a big Flea fan, and you can really hear that influence in the way he plays bass. He doesn’t just sit underneath the guitars playing root notes—his lines are melodic and rhythmic and sometimes basically become another hook in the song. I think that’s a huge part of what makes The Madelines sound like The Madelines, and it brings something into the band that I never would have come up with on my own.

And I know I’m cheating because you asked for three, but The Beatles are in there as well. Growing up I was obsessed with their discography, and I think the biggest thing I took from them was that a band doesn’t have to keep making the same kind of song. If they heard something that inspired them, they’d go make their version of it. That’s something we really try to hold onto. We’re obviously a rock band, but I never want us to decide, “This is what a Madelines song is supposed to sound like.”

The Madelines, photosynthesizing.

What’s your weirdest New York music story?

Owen: I probably shouldn’t say who it was, but one day I found a wallet on the sidewalk in front of a bar that belonged to the son of a really famous late-night host. There was a bunch of cash in it, all his cards, his drivers license and his television network pass. I tried messaging  him on Instagram and couldn’t get ahold of him, so eventually after a week, I was like fuck it, I guess I’ll call his dad’s show, so I called the network and left a message saying “Hey, I’m pretty sure I found a wallet that belongs to your host’s son, I’d love to get it back to him.” The next day I get a call from a random number and it’s him, and he’s like, “So, you called the place of business, huh?” He eventually came by my place to get the wallet and he pulled up in this giant black Escalade and was super grateful because he hadn’t even cancelled any of his cards yet. 

Afterwards, we got to talking and it turned out he was in a band too, so we kept in touch and like a week later, we somehow decided our bands should play together. I ended up booking us a show at Pianos, and I definitely remember thinking, “This dude’s dad is one of the most well-known guys on TV, he’s probably gonna bring a shitload of people.”

I remember the night of the show, it was like a Tuesday, and he rolls up all disheveled and sick and tells me the rest of his band couldn’t make it, so it was just him and a drummer. And they literally didn’t bring a single person to the show. I think the only people who showed up were a couple of our bassist’s friends and our girlfriends, so it was probably one of the emptiest shows we’d ever played. But at least I was able to get this kid his wallet back. I’d definitely want mine back if it was me.


THE MADELINES ARE: Owen Tressider, vocals & guitar · Ralph Franco, bass · Alex Taylor, guitar & keys · Jack Barrett, drums.
Check out The Madelines here