Hailing from Nanaimo, British Columbia, progressive/jazz rock musician and songwriter Richie Edwin is set to unveil his EP, A Quiet Forgiveness, this spring. Rooted in introspection and storytelling, the project explores themes of redemption, self-reflection, and faith, woven together by Edwin’s distinctive blend of intricate jazz harmonies and the sweeping dynamics of progressive rock. From finding inspiration in a church piano to embracing creative limitations, Edwin crafted A Quiet Forgiveness with a deliberate sense of structure, ensuring every note and lyric serves the greater narrative. In this interview, he discusses his creative process, the personal significance behind the title track, and the influence of artists like Rush, Frank Zappa, and Steven Wilson on his evolving sound.
Your new EP, A Quiet Forgiveness, was written with a sense of limitation and structure. How did that approach shape the final sound of the project?
As an artist, when faced with all of the options in the world, you can run into that old foe, analysis paralysis; sitting staring at an empty screen, a blank page, tapping your pen trying to figure out where to go. Limitations breed creativity. For “A Quiet Forgiveness” specifically, I had listened to a podcast about using the instruments and plugins that you have to produce. Nothing else, and don’t get a new thing to add to your toolbelt when you don’t even know how to hammer a nail. I challenged myself in the demo to only use Spitfire Labs instruments, and only use about 4 tracks. The song that’s on the record is pretty much that, but I overlayed the vocal over the original melody. Speaking to another song, not yet released, I was really struggling with the tones on that one, and my producer friend Derek Mattin is the king of committing the sounds and moving on. I did that with that mindset, and the song came together quickly and wound up being the first song to head off to mastering.
You mentioned that the title came before the music. How did that influence your songwriting and creative direction?
I read somewhere amidst my songwriting digging to try and come up with the title as quickly as possible. In fact, this whole project was the title of the EP long before I had even written “A Quiet Forgiveness”. From the title I can then figure out what the concept of the song is, and aligns with my general personality as a big picture thinker. I created a structure where I dump my concept ideas for a song into a folder in my Notes app called “Song Scraps”. I’ll drop in quotes, turns of phrase that are of interest, so you’re not left with that pencil-tapping-stuck feeling I described earlier. Then it’s just a matter of removing all of the parts that aren’t the story.
The chord progression for the title track was discovered by accident at your church’s grand piano. Do you often find inspiration in unexpected moments like that?
Yeah! I dropped my daughter off for choir, plunked out two chords, wrote down what the general chords were in my notes app with a title of “Something”; inspiration can be a lightning bolt or a fleeting thought and I’ve learned that you have to try and capture it and develop as much of it as you can before it goes away. Having voice memos on your phone is great, though it can become a “hard drive graveyard” if you don’t find time to develop them. The place where my ideas flow freely is when I’m out in nature, so I usually bring my phone along and vomit out what I’m thinking, which I can use for content, though I sometimes listen back to it and think “what the heck am I talking about?” *Tap trash icon* Dog needs a walk; my body needs to move, and the ideas flow. It’s a (rare) win-win.
The song explores the emotional weight of forgiveness, incorporating Biblical scripture. How personal was this writing process for you?
To be honest, it’s about as personal as I can get. I’m singing about some pretty heavy emotions here, and I’ve paired them up at the start of each stanza “burdened and heavy laden”, “calloused and bitter rooted”, “angry and disappointed”, to the final stanza resolution of “gentle and tenderhearted”. This song is my testimony. It’s about the redeeming work of Christ, even for a lost and broken person like me. I’m still being sanctified to be more Christ-like from day to day, and you can’t do that when you’re still carrying the weight of your old self. I am a new creation in Christ, and Paul makes it clear that the old self is dead, so I needed to say goodbye to that person.
You blend jazz and progressive rock in your music. How do you approach combining these genres in a way that feels natural?
I just can’t help it! It’s said that our creative output is the sum of our influences, and my ear tends to go to those places, the former because I did my music education in jazz, so you hear a lot of those chord progressions and melodies with chord extensions (then you have to sing them, which can be a challenge in and of itself) I still love the sound of the canonical prog rock, but also love how genre is becoming this thing that people are throwing away. Like even listening to the new Billie Eilish record, she’s got some 7 minute songs and bossa novas in there. Yes, please! Sometimes blending them together isn’t always natural, and you have to find ways for things to flow. On my second single, “Rats in the Cellar”, I had a lot of ideas, and initially it had a transitional section that came and went throughout the song and then ended the song, and before you know it the song is 9 minutes long. I love a long song, but it requires a lot of editing down to its final form, and the intention piece we talked about before makes it simple. All that to say, the improvisational and harmonic elements of jazz and the sonics and motion of progressive rock is generally what comes out of me, so I let it flow, then make it work.
Your influences range from Rush and Frank Zappa to Steven Wilson and Matthew Good. How have these artists shaped your sound and approach to songwriting?
We’ll start with Rush, because that’s where it started. First concert, 15 years old, Neil Peart’s 50th birthday, extended drum solo, all the lore that sows the seed of the superfan. Geddy Lee is the reason I picked up the bass and I’ve always admired his sense of melody, and the band’s unwavering devotion to their sound. I was fortunate enough to see them four times before their retirement in 2015. I’ve been playing a lot more guitar and have developed an appreciation for Alex Lifeson’s playing. There’s 3 Zappa albums that really shaped me as a teenager Apostrophe, One Size Fits All and Joe’s Garage. “Inca Roads” is a personal favourite and showcases the musicianship of the band, the absolute devotion to the project and sound (and Ruth Underwood? What a monster player); plus, a lot of the songs are tongue in cheek, and I like that. Steven Wilson came through my love of Opeth and was (as usual) late to the party. I ate up all of the Porcupine Tree records, his mixes of classic albums and saw him on the excellent Hand. Cannot. Erase tour. Matthew Good is listed here because there’s two albums that had a profound effect on me Vancouver and Lights of Endangered Species. Incredible songwriting, especially on the latter, because it was the last record on a contract and Good wanted to make something that wasn’t “commercially viable.” When I heard “Zero Orchestra” with all the horns and the driving swung piano on the radio when I was working in a warehouse it really got my attention, and I return to that record regularly.
The rhythmic pulse remains steady throughout A Quiet Forgiveness, but you introduce subtle changes to keep listeners engaged. How important is dynamic storytelling in your music?
It’s everything, and kind of my shtick right now. I use “sonic storytelling in a short form world” as a tagline on my socials. It’s important to honour the ebbs and flow of a story, and music is such a beautiful medium to do that. You can take an emotional twist, and I am to take a listener on the journey with me. With a song as simple as “AQF” you have to find ways to make things move as the narrative progresses. “Oh, this slapback delay is widening”, “oh this little thing is panning across the stereo field”, “oh there’s a reverb throw there”. It’s just ways to keep listeners engaged. I know that my mind wanders easily, so I have to try and keep myself interested without sounding too spastic.
The EP was inspired by a charcoal drawing titled Weary and Heavy-Laden. Do visual elements often play a role in your songwriting?
Specifically, this opened the floodgates for the lyrics of “A Quiet Forgiveness”; I had the demo and wrote the lyrics after, and had a whole lot of nothin’ but the larger concept, but putting that line in there just allowed that song to blossom. I can get stuck with just consuming certain things, but lately I’m pushing myself to experience art in different ways. I’ve been watching a lot of movies lately (usually in two sittings because I pretty much fall asleep in a movie without fail…) and gaining inspiration from that. I’m an avid reader and have been enamoured by the oral storytelling of Dr Martin Shaw. The visual of “Fireweed” became the central metaphor of death and rebirth in that song. To borrow from Rick Rubin, you have to be attuned to the things around you with your little antenna up to receive whatever resonates with you.
The song reflects on the struggle of forgiving yourself and others. What message do you hope listeners take away from it?
In a world where accountability and cutting toxic people out of your life is the solution, I choose forgiveness. Because it’s not for the other person; it’s for you. I will shout that from the mountaintops all day. Really, this song is written for my father and myself, reconciling those relationships with him and my past self. It can be hard to forgive when you ride a rollercoaster of expectation and disappointment, whether that’s with another person or even with yourself when you’re stuck doing the same old thing and wanting to change. With some boundaries and guard rails you can get out of it, let it go, forgive as you have been forgiven. That’s the biggest key: we have a model for forgiveness in God and the finished work of Jesus Christ.
How did you approach the recording and production process? Did the final version stay close to your original demo?
I crafted these songs in my spare time and learned a ton about engineering and production. My early demos were sonic nightmares drowning in reverb, so in short they are different from the demos, but in a good way! With “A Quiet Forgiveness” the point of that one stayed relatively close to the original demo, but it came out more lo-fi in the end than I had expected. It’s nice to get into the creative flow, get out of your own way and let the art be what it needs to be.
With over 20 years of experience in various genres, how has your musical journey evolved to this point?
It goes beyond this timeline, but that’s the time of actively playing an instrument. I give a lot of credit to my mother for constantly dragging out to the symphony, “The Nutcracker”, or “Joseph and his Technicolor Dreamcoat” as a kid. I’d always pop down to the musician’s pit if there was one and say a quick hello to the musicians. Over the years I’ve played in metal bands, funk rock ensembles, post rock bands, original indie rock and cover bands. It envelopes you in music and refines your tastes. Thankfully, and mercifully, I’ve been able to drop some of my stubborn biases that I developed as a teenager and have become a lot more open-minded to different styles of music and artistic expression. There are some things that just don’t grab me, which is fine, but I can find as much enjoyment listening to The 1975 as I do listening to Miles Davis.
Your music feels very intentional and introspective. Do you have a specific writing ritual or process?
As I mentioned, I crafted these songs over a long period of time, much of it in short 1-, 1-1/2 hour chunks. My time is limited working full time and having a young family, so the creative process is something that is constantly developing and refining. I read all sorts of books, like Deep Work and Essentialism to find out what would work, but eventually it just came down to finding time to put in the work. I suppose a ritual was one of having a “signal” to start. I have a standing lamp in my studio space, and I’d turn it on to signal the start of my session. I’d work for whatever time I’d allot myself, often with a timer because our brains like a sense of urgency and a deadline. Once that time was done, I’d save my session, take some notes – I have so many notebooks – and turn off the lamp and move on with my life.
A Quiet Forgiveness is a three-track EP. Do you see it as a standalone release, or is it part of a larger musical journey?
What is currently on Bandcamp is actually part of the EP. I still have one more single to release, and I will release the 5-song EP in its entirety in the spring. My goal is to cultivate a creative practice so I can write, record, release and promote music regularly, so there may be some songs that drip out as singles, but I still think in records and albums since that’s still how I listen to music. Even though I started late, I’m a firm believer that we are in the age of the artist, and I look forward to seeing what that looks like for me. I have another few songs that go together that will likely go out as an EP, but then again, I have sketched out another song that is an ode to Black Sabbath, so that one might just be released as a single. The bottom line is I’m having a lot of fun with the talent that I’ve been given, and I want to share it with and encourage others to nurture their creative selves.
What’s next for you? Are you already working on new music or planning live performances?
Currently, I’m halfway through an 8-week songwriting sprint where you write 4 songs within that time. I will likely do something as an EP release, whether a listening party or show, it’s still not clear. I have given myself a goal to play a handful of shows this year, so that’s an exciting prospect. I’m also tooling up my home studio space to refine my own production and mixing processes and collaborate with other artists.
Check out A Quiet Forgiveness on Bandcamp. Follow Richie on Instagram.
