Prince Of Lilies hit me as hard and intense as the Duracell Bunny jacked up on top-quality Ecstasy would have stomped away at Manchester’s infamous Hacienda on a late February night in 1989. Liberty in all its effortless noisy grace. I felt it the first time I heard them. I feel it now. You might, too!
Words: Lea Wagner
On a December California night, amongst smog and Moon dust, certain stars above Los Angeles are aligning. Joining forces from San Francisco, Brazil, Greece and the East Coast, the ducks are now all in a rock’ n’ roll row.
When you have talent of this caliber, Pyn as the band’s frontman/guitar, Kyle Brian on drums, Gabe Maska on bass and Frank Abreau on guitar, it could be absolutely no other way than: A ride to freedom. And after all, is that not what it is all about?
It is Prince Of Lilies.
In between recording sessions with a Grammy Award-winning producer (third studio album coming out 2025), I spoke to Pyn. By now, we have had a few cross-Atlantic curiosity-driven sunrise/sundown (due to time difference) talks. We could easily have gone into a rabbit hole
more than once.
Pyn, as we say in Danish “talks like a waterfall” and has at least three lifetimes worth of stories to tell. A man with an all-embracing raspy voice, a lot on his mind and without a doubt an everlasting burning flame, igniting and fueling his passion for writing and playing music with Prince Of Lilies.
I can best describe your sound as uncompromisingly raw, stripped back, in-your-face, loud guitar-driven rock that draws heavily from the gritty ’90s alternative grunge rock scene, beautifully paired with stellar melodic songwriting, straight from and to the heart.
In one way, it is a storming return to something oddly familiar and old school in the coolest possible way. At the same time this is not a ticket on the nostalgia locomotive. How would you describe your sound?
Pyn: I think you did a great job at describing our sound! I definitely like distorted and loud guitars, and I need to be moved by sheer volume. But there is a very big difference between what we do and what most metal and punk bands do. We might all have loud, distorted guitars, but our sound is very organic and pure and has no limitations or expectations.
Our guitars also carry a specific well of melodic energy that is quite unique to us, I feel. We just plug in, turn it up to 12 and play, but for us, it’s all about the song. The music. Nothing else matters.
Obviously, sharing an immense passion for music and the Californian sun, how did you guys all meet and decide to be in a band together?
Pyn: In Los Angeles, there are so many bands and musicians, and after seeing each one of our band members separately live on stage, with their previous or other bands, I freaked out! I just had to have them in my band too. I invited each of them at different times, and after hearing my unrecorded songs, they all one by one said yes, I’m in. They are absolutely fire and the best of people too.
I know you have a long history with the skateboarding and surfing community in L.A. Is there a lot of deep dreaming diversions happening when you hit the waves or where does the inspiration to your lyrics come from?
Pyn: Surfing is where I get so many melodies popping into my head. I’ll be there waiting for a wave, and I’ll just start singing a brand-new song. I let it go once I catch a wave and then I’m just curious to see if I remember it later when I’m holding my guitar once home. As for lyrics, they come automatically as the melody comes. It’s not a struggle to write a song. It’s just a reflection of something that I’ve lived and felt pain with. I need to write songs to exist. It’s a gift that the Universe gave me, so I must treasure it and respect it.
The vast majority of people these days seem to have been swept up by a surging tide of a constant need of affirmation and approval. A meaningless mass hysteria driven by swipes done, gone, and likes closely followed by a lack of same that propels people into despair, anxiety, jealousy, hang-ups and low falls, and for some, to the end of the cliff, if not beyond.
What is your take on this? And how do you think the toxicity of social media affects the music industry?
Pyn: If you don’t approve of yourself, you’ll look to others for it. If one is to create something truly original, they can’t give attention to what others may think. People and the music industry have lost their inner connection and strength to be warriors of the soul. It’s the soul we are all searching for, not disposable music and likes on our Instagram posts.
If there ever was a perfect moment, then the guitar solo on Low is it. To me, it’s an all-time high. It melts the veins, turning every string in my body into warm, glowing gold. Can you shine a light on your process of writing and creating music looks like?
Pyn: Well, that song was written at 4 am on the night that I had decided to take my own life. As I wrote out a suicide note, my guitar kept staring at me. So I put the pencil down and picked up my guitar as a last stand. The song just came out instantly. I heard the solo in my head too.
Needless to say, after that song came to me, I’ve never felt like killing myself ever again. It gave me the light at the end of the tunnel, and I never looked back again. I live now freely and gratefully. I’m glad you feel the immense power in that simple solo. Each note comes from the Heavens and Ether. It’s pure grace.
Cult behemoths of America’s underground scene, Iggy Pop, Pearl Jam, Queens Of The Stone Age, and now Prince Of Lilies have all graced that hallowed stage. How was your latest gig at Sunset Strip’s notorious The Viper Room? And what do you hope people took away from that night?
Pyn: We’re here to honor the past legends in music, but to also destroy the past, so we can create a new future for rock ‘n’ roll.
California Way, out now via Grungepop Records, is the soundtrack to that scene in my life where I left Jack and Desolation Peak behind and now come charging over rock ‘n’ roll mountains with hair blowing wildly in the wind and the blazing sun on my face.
No more years of accumulated consciousness, no sorrows, sadness, worries or regrets. To Hell with it all. At this point, all is in sync. All that is left is one immensely overpowering feeling. A magnitude of gratitude.
Riding on, in the midst of that perfect (heart) beat of Kyle’s extraordinary drumming and Pyn’s deep, full-fueled voice. Not a single soul, dead or alive, nor an AI clanky bone clone in the World can piss on my parade right now. Pure bliss.
By the side of the dusty, deserted road, I see an old acquaintance of mine on a majestic horse. Even though he has been around since 1954 he does not seem to age. Despite the deadly consequences, the unpleasant smell and the exorbitant price he has always reminded me of freedom.
Eyes squinting, he hands me a pack of the old faithful lung bleeders. A timeless temptation. The Marlboro Man nods. The invisible gates to what most people yearn and search for their entire life opens before me. And I am on my way.
I, too, will permanently ride off into the sunset of freedom.
To all my fellow malcontents out there, I am left with just one question:
Are you looking for a ride to freedom?
I give you Prince Of Lilies.
Prince Of Lilies play The Viper Room, Sunset Blvd, West Hollywood, on Saturday, January 18. 100% of profits will go to MusiCares. Prince Of Lilies’ new album Zephyring is out now. Listen on Spotify.
