Alex Farrar was doing sound for local shows in Asheville, North Carolina when the pandemic shutdown gave him a surprising new career path.
“Everyone was at home and they were creating a lot,” the 33-year-old tells me during a recent phone call. “I just got bizarrely busy recording during the pandemic. A lot of people were just trying to make records, and I took a chance on it being a full-time thing and I’ve just been doing that ever since.”
If the name “Alex Farrar” sounds familiar, there’s a good chance you’ve been studying the liner notes of some of the best and most popular indie records of recent years. In 2025 alone, Farrar has produced or mixed Wednesday’s Bleeds, Hotline TNT’s Raspberry Moon, and Fust’s Big Ugly, all albums I expect to appear on my year-end list. In 2024, he manned the boards for MJ Lenderman’s Manning Fireworks after previously producing that album’s beloved 2022 predecessor, Boat Songs. All told, Farrar has contributed to acclaimed releases by Snail Mail, Indigo De Souza, Wild Pink, Hurray For The Riff Raff, and Plains, among others.
If you know those records, you can probably pinpoint some common sonic touchstones — Farrar’s specialty is country-ish rock with muscular guitar tones that can pivot in the direction of ’90s-style alternative. That sound has become foundational for indie acts this decade, and I was curious to talk to one of the behind-the-scenes architects. So, Farrar guided me through some of his highest-profile collaborations.
Snail Mail
I did a bunch of records working for Brad Cook and that was one of them.
You engineered and mixed her 2021 album Valentine, along with other Cook-produced LPs from around the same time, including Hurray For The Riff Raff’s Life On Earth and Plains’ self-titled debut. Those are really your first “breakout” indie-rock records. Can you break down the difference between producing a record and mixing one?
As a producer, I look at it as the artist comes and they’re like, “I want to make this record, and these are my goals.” And then you determine all the things that need to happen to make this their favorite record, and how I’m going to facilitate all these things happening. And sometimes that’s like, “All right, we need to figure out how the song is going to sound.” Or it’s like, “You have a clear vision, and I need to just make sure it’s easy for you to get out there and do your thing.”
With mixing, it can kind of be similar. There’s some records I’ve mixed where the artist recorded stuff at home and they’re like, “I love the song and the vibe, but I’m not really sure that these are the right sounds. So, go nuts and add stuff.” And then sometimes you get something that’s just incredibly captured and you need to just give it that extra 10 percent.
Did it feel at the time that working with Snail Mail was a turning point for your career, in terms of getting noticed by the press and other bands?
I don’t know. I guess I’m not sure about that part of it. I will say I played a bunch of guitar on that record, and the vibe and the sessions were just awesome. I had a very easy time getting into the music, and the working relationship with Lindsey [Jordan] and Brad. It just seemed so natural.
Hotline TNT
You mixed the last two Hotline TNT records, Cartwheel (2023) and Raspberry Moon (2025). How involved were you in shaping the sound of those records?
Cartwheel is a more heavy-headed example. When Will [Anderson] and I started talking, he sent the tracks over and it was like drum machines and DI guitars. And that’s awesome. But I think we were both interested in making it as huge-sounding as possible. The before and after, I guess, was pretty stark.
My core formative music taste is heavy music. I wanted to play guitar after seeing Green Day music videos as a kid. And from there I was just obsessed with Metallica, Pantera, any kind of shredder metal stuff I could get my hands on. And I think that naturally finds its way into what I’m working on, even if it’s a delicate singer-songwriter thing.
Was it similar with Raspberry Moon?
Yeah, it was similar. The interesting thing with that record is they tracked as a live band for the first time. But Will is always looking to push things as far as they can go. So very similarly, it was like, “All right, let’s see if we just put the gas all the way down and really fry it as hard as we can.”
What does that mean, mixing-wise?
It’s a lot of technical stuff like distorting things or compressing them. But I just mean the impact. When you hit play, does it sound like it’s really trying to fight its way out of the speaker, or is it something you can casually listen to? With Will’s music, you want to hit play and be like, “Whoa, this is a force coming at me.” So it was about figuring out how to process all the sounds to where they add up to be this really, really grand thing.
Wild Pink
I feel like there’s something similar going on with the most recent Wild Pink album, 2024’s Dulling The Horns, which sounds bigger and louder than their other records.
John [Ross] hit me up and he was like, “I am in the middle of mixing this. I’m not sure about about the mixes, and I’m just curious if you would want to try a song.” I listened back through their record, and I was like, “I’m just going to do what I want to hear.” And, similarly, the thing I did was very big guitar music, because what he sent me, it sounded a little constrained. I just was craving to hear it more wide, big, intense.
That “big, wide, intense” vibe is instantly apparent.
I definitely was chasing that sound, but I think it was more like, “Man, these songs want to be big. And have an intensity that his vocal and his writing needs to all add up and feel like this one big powerhouse.”
Fust
This band is lesser known than some of their others, but I really like the records you’ve made with them, particularly Big Ugly.
I knew a lot of those guys from when we went to college together, and we were good buds. Aaron [Dowdy, the band’s singer-songwriter] and I were always friends, but we ran in different circles. He’s such an interesting mind. I feel like we push each other in very different ways. Aaron’s got this sort of fine-tooth song radar. He’s always listening for these very little nuances, whether it’s his lyrics or arrangement things. And sonically, I feel like I am pushing things in a way that maybe weren’t on his radar before.
It’s probably the most straight-up country-sounding music you’ve worked on.
The aesthetic presentation definitely has that. But his lyrics are what makes the band to me. His writing is just so good. I could just read the lyrics and be content. I love the records, obviously, but I feel like what makes Fust so special is Aaron’s writing.
Wednesday
Karly [Hartzman] and Zandy [Chelmis] both worked at this music venue called The Mothlight, and I did sound there. And I knew Jake [Lenderman] from his solo project, which was already active way back then, and I did sound for him a few times. Right when the pandemic happened, they had plans to go to Philadelphia to record Twin Plagues, but then they had to shift their plans. The owner of The Mothlight was like, “Hey, there’s this studio, Drop Of Sun, you should do your record there.”
We really got close through that process. If the band had gone to Philly and made that Twin Plagues record, who knows? But we hunkered down in the summer of 2020 and made that record in probably, I don’t know, a week and a half. And we’ve been super close buds ever since. Very shortly after that, I worked with Jake on Boat Songs, and we just all continued to work together since.
It occurs to me that Wednesday, sonically, is this natural meeting point of the southern rock thing you’re known for, and the “heavy” music influences of your youth.
Totally, yeah. My heavy music inclination, and obsession with guitar sounds, they definitely like that about working together. They like that I’m trying out seven distortion pedals and super down to layer the guitars and make it really big and hectic sounding.
You mixed Twin Plagues, and then you were credited as producer on Rat Saw God and Bleeds. How did that relationship evolve?
It has just been a natural thing. With Twin Plagues, we didn’t really know each other super well. But quickly we were like, “Oh yeah, we have super complementary tastes and interests.” Every time we work together, we get closer and try new stuff. Karly’s writing continues to just evolve and get so much better, and she’s very interested in writing different sort of kinds of songs. So “Elderberry Wine,” for example, is pretty outside of the Wednesday wheelhouse, until now.
MJ Lenderman
He’s such a talented musician. He just hops around. I’ll typically set up drum kits, a couple of different guitar rigs, a bass set up, and a bunch of keyboards. And he just jumps from one instrument to another and layers stuff. He has guests in, too, but he builds tracks out largely by himself.
The transition, sonically, from Boat Songs to Manning Fireworks is significant.
With Manning Fireworks, the idea was to make it a bit more natural-sounding, as opposed to Boat Songs, which is a little more lo-fi and kind of grungy. And that production didn’t quite match where his writing was headed. So, walking into Manning Fireworks, we wanted to try to make it a little more timeless.
You mentioned how Lenderman tracks a lot by himself. But Manning Fireworks also has spacier, jammier songs like “You Don’t Know The Shape I’m In” and “Bark At The Moon.”
Those are two of the more collaborative songs on the record, with Jake and I and other musicians. “You Don’t Know The Shape I’m In,” for example, I actually played drums on that and he played guitar and then this guy, Landon George, played stand-up bass and we tracked that as a trio. And then “Bark At The Moon”, that whole outro section, it was comprised of two or three tracks of Jake plus one or two other people playing drones. It was a little bit more spontaneous that way. It wasn’t as part by part.
Whereas a song like “She’s Leaving You,” that seems pretty composed.
I think that’s right. Yeah, that was definitely a “part by part” one.
When you’re working on a record, do you have a mood board of music that you’re trying to emulate, just from a “feel” standpoint? Like, “We want it to sound like this”?
Not really. Honestly. I think that can get in the way a lot of the time. I just think that the song asserts itself the more you work on it and the more you get to know it. I try to just follow intuition rather than drawing directions from other artists. I mean, obviously, we’re all a composite of things that we like. But I’m not listening to Neil Young in between takes or something.
The Wednesday and MJ Lenderman albums are some of the most acclaimed and beloved indie releases of the decade. Are artists reaching out to you like, “We want to do something that sounds like that, or has that quality”? I would assume that’s become common for you.
Well, I don’t know. That’s not typically how the creative conversation starts. I’ve definitely met a lot of people. After making those records, I’m really lucky to have a lot of awesome conversations with new artists. I think it’s amazing that those records have broken through. But a funny part of living in Asheville is it’s a small place. I’m not a super “plugged in on the internet” kind of person, either. I remember somebody sending me a message like, “Yo, really digging Boat Songs out here in Colorado.” I’m like, “Oh, whoa, shit, Colorado, that’s awesome.” My sense of the reach of these records is kind of not great, but it’s amazing when somebody does hit me up and they’re from a completely different scene or place and they’re really digging it. I’m just so happy to hear that music is speaking to them.
