PRESS KIT

Bio

From the opening seconds of “Savage Thunder,” it is clear that Altars is a new chapter in Adam Lytle’s fevered exploration of the human condition. The New York songwriter has quietly built a passionate following with the alluring sound of his nylon-string guitar and poetic lyrics; a sensual combination that conjures a deep emotional response from his audience. While Lytle’s guitar and voice still take center stage, gone is the monumental orchestra which lifted 2023’s This Is The Fire. In its place, there is something more earthbound, more opaque; a cacophony of screeching metal, blown-out amps and apocalyptic rhythm. A ferocious sound crafted from the wreckage of the modern American landscape.

After years of honing his craft, Lytle emerged at the turn of the decade as a distinctive voice in the tower of song. With its striking lyricism and evocative arrangements, his solo debut This Is The Fire drew comparisons to the work of Leonard Cohen, Townes Van Zandt, and Scott Walker. The songs were steeped in shadows—dark highways, broken hearts, and the intoxicating pull of a world gone to ruin. Above it all, Lytle’s voice curled like smoke in the dead of night, twisting in and out of the listener’s ear, seductive yet menacing. The self-released album spread by word of mouth. Music-lovers around the world took note, with publications like For the Rabbits calling it ”a piece that breathes fresh air through old lungs, that feels at once timeless and bristling with opportunity, a new voice that feels ready to make its mark.”

Arriving a little over a year after its predecessor Altars is the fruit of his long running collaboration with producer Jonathan Schenke. Indeed it was Schenke, an electronic musician known for his work with Liars and Parquet Courts, who outlined a process that would prioritize a live approach to recording, while leaving room for more experimentation. “I remember walking through the Jardin des Plantes last winter, unsure of how to move forward, when Jonny called me and described his idea of replacing the sound of a traditional orchestra with more unexpected instruments. That was the moment everything clicked.”

As Winter released its grasp, Lytle and Schenke convened in the basement of Brooklyn’s Figure 8 Recording with their hand-picked band of veteran musicians; Cameron Kapoor on lead guitar, Kevin Copeland on bass, and Will Logan on drums. The group had never played this material together before but they quickly coalesced around an exhilarating sense of discovery. “We gave very little direction ahead of time. I expressed my goal of finding the edge and tried to empower everyone to take chances. Interesting things happen when songs are on the verge of falling apart and it takes a certain level of trust for collaborators to be willing to go there”. The culture of trust paid off. Over the course of three days, the band tore its way through twelve songs. Careening between depraved stompers and sprawling epics while Lytle howled like a deranged preacher. Lytle says “Cameron’s guitar playing really galvanized the band’s energy in the studio. The further he leaned into the waves of dissonance and distortion, the further the rest of us could go.”

As spring gave way to summer, Lytle and Schenke reconvened at Studio Windows and began experimenting with arrangements by bringing in additional collaborators. “We decided to honor the spirit of the original sessions by giving each new contributor the freedom to add whatever they felt was missing. In this way, the identity of the songs continued to evolve and expand beyond anything we could have imagined”. First up was a trip to SuperLegal Studio where percussionist Mauro Refosco interwove earthly rhythms with otherworldly sounds. Multi-instrumentalist Oli Deakin contributed melodic hooks on guitar and keyboard. Kristina Moore, who wrote and recorded harmonies in the final days production, provided an angelic lift to Lytle’s incantations. Mixing as he went, Schenke added piano and synth before moving to his modular rig. Lytle recounts, “Jonny came up with the idea to resample audio recordings from my travels as a way of imbuing additional meaning and texture across the album”. It was the final flourish that tied this collection of songs together. When the dust settled, Altars revealed itself as raw and unrelenting, a cocktail of desire, dread, blood and redemption. A haunting reflection of an unforgiving world.

For Altars’ unwavering examination of devotion, the songwriter embraced a broad palette of rhythm and structure. The delicate fingerpicking that opens the record gives way to an electric swagger that sounds looser and darker than anything we’ve heard from Lytle before. An industrial beat and throbbing bass drive the ominous “Black Masses” while the searing guitar-driven “Lead On, Desire” almost dares you not to dance to its T. Rex-like stomp. There are moments of unguarded romanticism, as on the atmospheric "Nothing Lies Beyond,” and the soul-stirring anthem of regret “Midnight Shakes The Memory”. The album’s centerpiece, “Heaven” spits and snarls with a detailed takedown of western civilization as an increasingly unhinged band lashes out for six and a half minutes. It’s not the only song full of fire and brimstone. Elsewhere, Lytle wields the story of The Crucifixion for “That Was Me,” a blues-riddled song of betrayal with lines like “don’t hide your scalpel / in rags of kindness / I’ve seen the cruelty you harbor.”

Lytle’s lyricism dazzles throughout. He offers the sort of razor-sharp observations that might make you feel uncomfortable, but that’s exactly what’s so thrilling. He’s unafraid to confront the messiness of life with the kind of imagery that would make a lesser poet choke on his own verse. He sings hymns to the wounded, songs of grace wrestled from the jaws of despair, and anthems in the spirit of rebellion. At times it’s as if he's teetering on the edge of madness, daring you to fall off with him. “I’m interested in expressing a broad range of human emotion through my songs”. He says “There’s a duality of light and dark in everything. I believe it’s the artist’s responsibility to explore both sides, even if it’s uncomfortable”.

As with Lytle’s previous album, the writing of Altars followed a period of study. After decamping to Europe with his partner Meg in the winter of 2024, he traveled by train, tracing the influence of modern art, poetry, and religion from the boulevards of Paris to the mountains of Granada before settling in Arles, France. It is no coincidence that there is a timeless quality to his words. Here, myth bleeds into reality and vice versa. It is a world of beauty and horror, of moments that burn with meaning and moments that slip through your fingers like smoke.

Altars is a record that arrives at a moment of great turmoil. The air is thick with the promise of something dark and destructive. Where many artists have stood at the edge of this darkness and turned back, Lytle leads us deeper into the void. He sings for the ones who feel too much, the ones whose hearts beat in rhythm with the sorrow of the world, the ones who have loved, lost, but are still standing. Like the great poets of the underworld, his songs echo in the silence long after they’ve ended.