Farbod On the Making Of “Brother”
Can you tell us about the inspiration behind "Brother" and the story it tells?
The song is a letter to my little brother. We had a difficult childhood marked by a lot of abuse. All either of us ever wanted was to be loved and have someone care about us and support us in becoming the people we were supposed to be. That never happened, so we’ve had to figure it out ourselves and learn how to be brothers to each other along the way. It’s been hard work and a long journey but, as it turns out, the story has a happy ending. The message of the song is that I know exactly what you’ve been through, I watched you survive it, and I’m right here with you as you heal. And, as the two of us together start shifting our gaze from what was to what can be, let’s find out how amazing life can be and what it’s like to thrive. I wanted my brother to hear what he deserved and needed to hear as a kid, now. And I wanted us both to feel: I’ve got you. You’ve got me. We’re good. Let’s live.
How did you approach the arrangement and composition of the music for this song?
“Brother” marks a major shift in my sound. When I started producing in 2018, I was making almost entirely trance and progressive house music. While dance music will always have a special place in my heart, and I’ll continue making it probably for a very long time, Brother is a return to my musical roots. I’m a classically trained pianist who learned to sing in musical theater and gospel choir. Brother places renewed focus on vocals, organic instrumentation (piano, cello, violin, and guitar) and, of course, the gospel choir climax at the end.
“Brother” is what I would make if I didn’t worry about “making it”—whatever that means. Attention spans are getting pretty short these days, and songs are getting shorter and shorter. I know a lot of musicians who, very understandably, are catering their artistry to the algorithm. I used to do it myself. Brother is the result of my decision not to do that.
The song is almost 6 minutes long. That’s because it needs to be to tell the story it needs to tell. Will that mean the song is less likely to go viral or have repeat streams on Spotify? Maybe. Maybe not. But it doesn’t matter. Brother is the first time I have truly leaned in to the idea that success can look like a lot of things, and among them is creating a work that is vulnerably and authentically me on a platter, without worrying about what labels or the algorithm are looking for.
Can you talk about the recording and production process for this single?
I wrote, produced and mixed all of it. I sang the lead vocal and I played all the instruments (believe it or not, the piano, cello, and violin are all electronic instruments).
One thing I really wanted to accomplish with “Brother” was that, every time you think this is the climax, you find out—nope, we’re going even higher, even bigger, even more joyful. The song is an exercise in erasing limiting beliefs and playfully exploring just how much magic we can really experience if only we allow it.
A lot of people will get to the end of the cello and string section and think that’s the end of the song—only to find the second verse comes in with a whole lot more intensity. Then you get to the end of that verse and think, ok that’s it, but then all of a sudden a gospel choir shows up. And then you think that must be it, but then I start ad-libbing on top of the gospel choir at the top of my range in full falsetto. And then you think we really must be at the tipping point here, only to have a final, full-blast verse with me, the gospel choir at the top of our lungs, and all the instrumentation together.
The idea is that we limit ourselves so often and in so many ways. If we are willing to go along for the ride and trust the process, we could end up at such higher heights than we otherwise would have allowed ourselves when we first thought “this is it.”
I fully experienced this myself when I was creating the song. So many times, I felt like “there is more I could do here. There’s something I haven’t said.” And I didn’t believe I had the skills or tools to do it, or that I couldn’t figure out where to go from where I was. That’s when the words “gospel choir” popped into my head.
I hired a group of vocalists with experience in gospel, and patched in from Los Angeles into a studio session in London where 16 people belted out a four-part harmony at the peak of the track. It was surreal.
Can you share a bit about your musical background and the journey that led you to where you are today?
I’m a classically trained pianist and vocalist and music has been a part of my life since before I could walk. My immigrant parents weren’t too pleased when I told them I wanted a performing arts career. So, law school it was. I became a successful big firm lawyer and tried to convince myself that music was in my past. But the yearning never went away and, about a decade into working 90-hour weeks at my firm, I finally listened to the little voice in my head that told me I had to get back to my soul calling. So I walked away from the big firm life and am now practicing law part-time (just enough to pay the bills) and pursuing music at the same time. It’s really challenging to do both, but I’ve learned to be flexible in both directions and build meaningful time for both my clients and my music dreams.
How do you balance crafting relatable stories with maintaining your unique voice as a songwriter?
I write songs about my life, my struggles, my fears, my dreams—things that every single person on the planet has experienced. Some people write about it, others dance about it, others sculpt or paint about it. I sing about it. The songs I write create relatable stories because that’s what they’re about. The everyday things (big and small) that make us human.
