TJ Novak Breathes Life Back Into the Live Album

It's not much of a stretch to say that the live album is nowhere near the spectacle it used to be. Now that we watch almost any previously recorded set on YouTube, fewer artists bother releasing live albums anymore. Luckily, our very own TJ Novak (@teejnovak on Instagram) is putting the format on his back and showing out for Dallas with his Live in Deep Ellum records.

As soon as the needle drops on one of the Florida-born, McKinney-raised musician’s live joints, the listener is whisked away to a candle-lit, moody speakeasy with a dim spotlight illuminating Novak and his band. It’s easy to picture him strutting around, holding one of those old-school steel-grill mics as he croons through tracks like “Terrifying Nightmare” and “Blood Moon.” His band’s nothing to shake a stick at, either; Justin Hoard runs the show on “Racoon” with a heavy backbeat while Novak, keyboardist Randy McGill and Alec Zieff on sax jaunt along overtop.

“It's like jazz for people who probably wouldn't normally sit through a jazz show,” Novak says. “I try to make it fresh and exciting.”

Novak breaks down the significance of live recordings by comparing his music to that of his band, Curl. While they’re undoubtedly one of Dallas’ premier alt-rock outfits, their songs don’t vary much from show to show. Novak, however, approaches every performance ready and willing to veer off a song’s beaten path and end up in a new tempo or an extended improvisation.

“I just get up there and we really improv it and stretch it out and see what happens,” he says. “I can't capture that on a studio recording. I've even tried to get a band together and get in a studio, and it doesn’t sound the same without the crowd there.”

Something about the feeling in the room or the musicians’ nerves in response to an audience provokes a special energy from live performances that Novak loves to lean into, for better or worse.

“The worst thing that's gonna happen is everyone's gonna hate it,” he says earnestly. “It's not that bad. I think once you fuck up on stage so many times, eventually you're like, ‘Oh, I fucked up on stage and the world didn’t end.’”

Such a forgiving mindset takes the edge off being on stage, but it’s one that was hard-earned. The 27-year-old cut his teeth in Deep Ellum’s clubs and bars, so of course he’d feel right at home winging it under pressure.

“It's almost like you're playing for your life,” Novak says. “That's something I learned from Jerry Garcia in The Grateful Dead because they’re so improv. Whenever he was asked, he would always say, ‘You have to play for your life, as if your life depends on every note.’”

The Grateful Dead is a major inspiration for Novak, from his wah pedal prowess to his thought process behind live performances. After all, The Dead’s live shows were legendary; each one varied so greatly that “dead-heads” would travel from one city to another to hear each different performance.

He also draws from Ca7riel & Paco Amoroso, an experimental hip-hop duo from Argentina. Their music is heavily produced, utilizing 808s and synths to curate instant classics, but they switched things up for NPR's Tiny Desk performance by stripping down some of their hottest tracks like “Dumbai” to better fit the intimate space. “I was already listening to them before the Tiny Desk, but they broke their songs down from their pop production and played them with a jazz band,” he explains. “That's become a huge influence for almost everything I do now.”

This checks out, as Novak’s approach to performing his recorded material on stage follows a similar formula. “Tenderness” is transformed from a soul-steeped, horn-heavy tune to a groovy club joint that shows off Novak’s higher register vocals and his knack for ripping through an improv guitar solo. Some of the snappiness is removed from “I Just Wanna Believe in Love Again” to opt for more of an old-school slow-burn vibe.

The aforementioned tracks also have multiple versions spanning across both live albums. Live in Deep Ellum 2’s version of “Tenderness” has more active, colorful drums courtesy of Dwayne Berry while the first live version recorded at Louie Louie's Dueling Piano Bar features an extended improv section. Similarly, the first live version of “I Just Wanna Believe in Love Again” is much more open, with ample space for Novak and his band to show off their chops while Deep Ellum 2’s take is more straightforward.

“I wanted to show that it’s different each time the song is played; I want you to be able to compare them,” Novak says.

Novak’s secret to spur-of-the-moment success lies in personal preparation. He readily admits that his live show would suffer without daily practice because familiarity with his material is what allows for smooth, spontaneous jamming on stage. The real magic happens when Novak can just be in the moment and play without reservation.

“None of us know what we're gonna do,” he says fervently. “There's a lot of nervousness in that, but it's also really exciting.”

Aside from his live stuff, there are three big projects on the horizon for Novak. His debut studio album, Tenderness, comes out on July 18 and features a mix of previously released singles and new tunes. He describes the second project as “like Men I Trust, but with funky wah-wah pedals,” which sounds right up his alley, but Novak plans to make the big switch to country music for the third record on his to-do list.

The explanation really isn’t anything special: one day he just started writing country songs. The man plays guitar and lives in Texas. Go figure. At first, he didn’t know what to do with them, but once he had a few laid out, he realized they all fit together nicely.

Big Tex is the record’s working title, and Novak describes the album cover as a collage of images from when the State Fair’s mascot burned down back in 2012. As of now, there is no definite release date.

Novak has already proven himself across alternative rock and R&B, so we’re eagerly waiting for Novak’s big country debut.