Nick Thomas knows how to dive deep into the elusive waters of self-deprecating romanticism. In fact, it’s what 2005’s One Fell Swoop is hinged on. The Spill Canvas’ sophomore effort is a delicate balance of sobering epiphanies and the brutally unattainable—leading to popularity that culminated in a 10 year anniversary tour that kicked off earlier this month. Thomas swears this occurrence blindsided him. “The tour is incredible. Going into it I knew it’d be cool and fun, but almost all of the shows sold out. We even added second dates for LA, Atlanta, and Boston. For the second dates, we do Sunsets and Car Crashes in its entirety. It’s a little different, but the response has been great.”
The irony of performing their debut album for fans is unbeknownst to almost all of them, since it’s the record that Thomas considers the most disconcerting. “It’s just rough for me to listen to. I was 17, 18 in that time frame and I’m proud it was the first thing I did. But I wasn’t sure of how to write a song, or my voice or my style. By the second record, I figured out what works.” Sunsets and Car Crashes—despite its occasional over-reliance on gauzy harmonies—possesses a relatable emotional core etched in Thomas’ vocal fragility. According to the songwriter, words are everything.
“I have kind of a reverse ego, but I’m really proud of the lyrics on each record. It’s what I spend the most time on. The evolution of our songs is something I hold close and dear to me. That timeless trait in music is what I tend to go after. The way you execute a phrase or stanza is the difference between a great song and an incredible song. I also use broader strokes when writing lyrics so the songs are accessible for everyone.” For the last decade, The Spill Canvas proved there is remarkable might in vulnerability. Thomas knows their entire career wouldn’t be possible without the loyalty of their fans. “I appreciate anyone who listened and supported us over the last 10 years,” he gushes. “We wouldn’t be here without you.”