Captain Tallen & the Benevolent Entities confront temptation on the hearty folk-rock of “Spotted Lantern Fly”

“Spotted Lantern Fly”, a more urgent introspection taken from their upcoming debut album, Earth, Swallow Me Whole, features propulsive percussion and bouncy cello that provide a confessional edge to Gabriel’s narration. It and the other songs, which will be released on 18 September, were written in a few months, following a sudden whirlwind romance – a stressful moment perhaps many of us have had. “That song is about the part in a situation where you realise, ‘I know this isn’t good for me, but I keep choosing it anyway,’” Gabriel says of the song’s meaning. The consequences of pursuing such romantic temptation manifest after doing so, but again, haven’t we been there, too?

Not only is Gabriel’s pen relatable, but it deftly captures metaphors. The titular insect, originally from Asia, is an invasive species in the United States that’s snacking on trees, but its spotted and bright-coloured appearance is beautiful to the eye. For the former reason, people are encouraged to kill it, but Gabriel faced this paradox after seeing a dead one outside their front door. “I was like, ‘Wow, this looks like the kind of thing that would be a bad omen in some cultures,’” they recall. “In the moment, it felt like trying to let go of the infatuation with a person who I know isn’t good for me, even though they’re shiny and beautiful to me in some way.” From this example, for Gabriel, songwriting is a way to release themselves from emotional turmoil.

Gabriel’s penchant for storytelling and writing has always been strong; playing in a band, especially a non-classical one with a classical instrument, came later. As a kid, they’d write songs with their sister, and both attended orchestra camp. That’s when they discovered the cello, and were “immediately enamoured by it,” but put practising aside to study writing. “I didn’t see a lot of examples of people doing other things with the cello yet,” Gabriel says. “But hearing the beginning of Paramore’s ‘Misery Business’ or Coldplay’s ‘Viva la Vida’, I was like, ‘Wait a second, this instrument can do things other than classical music.’” Their renewed confidence reached its peak when they saw a busker playing the cello and singing in the subway, circumstances entirely divorced from the strict, limiting standards of a music conservatory. Being a professional musician became possible. “Sometimes you just have to see someone doing a thing to be like, ‘Wait, right, that’s an option.’”

Gabriel put together the crew of the Benevolent Entities after previously playing in their friends’ bands and jamming with them. During their tenure, they wrote their own material. “This band came together really just through friends, by asking: ‘You wanna play this music with me?’” Everyone happily got on board, and their friendship made it work: They love and care about each other away from the studio. “The best collaborative relationships I’ve been in are with people I already feel comfortable with, who try to be honest with me if something’s not working, or I want them to give me their ideas,” Gabriel explains. “It’s a process where everyone feels safe and heard.”

Earth, Swallow Me Whole embodies the band’s nautical aesthetics lyrically and physically. Gabriel ticked off a bucket list item – creating an album in a contained setting – by recording for a week in January at Red Hook’s Harbor Studios. The waterfront location with a chilly breeze, ice drifting on the water, and a fireplace to keep cosy made the experience so magical. “I’m very grateful everyone was down to take that week out of their lives to do that,” Gabriel says. “Being in it, someone might have an idea and play around with an instrument in front of the fire at midnight, and you go, ‘That’s so cool.’ That wouldn’t have happened if we had to go home after an eight-hour day and go to work the next day.”

But being immersed in such a scenic spot was also surreal, shielding everyone from the systemic conflicts around them. At the time of recording, that included Minnesota’s controversial ICE surge. “You see horrible things happening on your phone and on the news, but [in the studio], they’re invisible,” Gabriel says. “It just feels like your community.” The album is largely centred on grappling with what to do in adversity, and the answer is finding solace in community. Even an intensely personal experience like Gabriel’s breakup “exists outside of [them] now. The songs are their own being now, and that feels so powerful.”

That result drives Gabriel, a self-described romantic and multidisciplinary writer, to this practice, telling stories that make people feel seen, making everyday experiences feel beautiful, and finding the “connection catharsis.” “We all go through the same sorts of things. It’s so magical when you hear a song and something about the way music is making you feel like, ‘This feels like it was written for me,’ especially in a time when you need it, but the artist doesn’t know what you’re going through,” Gabriel says.

They add, “Poetry has just made me feel part of a larger ecosystem: all of it.” Humans have made art since the beginning of time, and for good reason – to process what is happening to and around them for themselves and others to understand. It can be fuelled by fun; Gabriel admits the whole band had lots of that while making this very emotional album. Yet fundamentally, they felt connected, and that unity attests to the profound importance of human artistry and expression.