Seahaven: “For me life comes first, the lessons, the hurdles, the experiences, and then the music follows.”

Six years have passed since Seahaven released their last album, but for vocalist and songwriter Kyle Soto, the gap wasn’t spent searching for inspiration. Life simply happened. Time away from the band brought new routines, different creative outlets and periods where writing barely featured at all. It wasn’t until the band reunited to rehearse for a one-off show that a new song, “Wedding Bells,” unexpectedly reignited the creative spark and opened the floodgates for what would become Seahaven’s self-titled new album.

As a songwriter, rather than forcing ideas into existence, Soto has always allowed songs to arrive naturally, shaped by the experiences, relationships and personal changes that come before them. That approach gives Seahaven their emotional power, with lyrics that feel conversational rather than constructed and records that become snapshots of specific moments in time. For Soto, songwriting isn’t simply about documenting life, it’s also a way of understanding it, offering perspective, closure and a creative outlet that has remained central to the band since its beginnings.

Speaking with V13 for our latest Cover Story, Soto discusses the making of Seahaven, the creative spark that followed “Wedding Bells,” and why the album became a self-titled release. He reflects on writing from lived experience rather than expectation, finding closure through songwriting, and how stepping away from music ultimately strengthened his connection to the band and its creative process.

You said that writing the album was triggered when the song “Wedding Bells” unlocked the creative process. Why do you think that song opened things up for you?

“That’s a good question. Before that, we hadn’t released a Seahaven record since 2020. In that time, I did my first solo project because I’m always writing more mellow material, and it felt like the first step into making a whole record of slower music. Fast-forward to around April or May 2025 and I had that riff floating around. It could have gone either way. It could have become a solo track or maybe gone into another project like that, or become part of a Seahaven record.

There are dormant periods where we’re all getting older, life gets busy and we don’t meet up unless there’s something specific to rehearse for. We had a show coming up with some friends in late May and started rehearsing again. I brought that riff in and thought, let’s see what it sounds like with live drums. Eric started playing on it and we began fleshing it out. We ended up playing that show and included the song, and that reignited things.

I think it became a catalyst in that way. Then lyrically and thematically, life just happened in the background, the usual trials and tribulations, then, eventually, there’s a point where I pick up a guitar and things start flowing naturally. It usually doesn’t stop at one song. There’s normally more behind it. “Wedding Bells” was the breaking of the dam. We played that gig and afterwards I went home and started moving through a whole chunk of the rest of the songs, and from there it just continued.”

As a songwriter, are you somebody who writes songs and then siphons them into different projects, or do you write knowing where they fit?

“It depends. On my own time I listen to much more mellow music, so left entirely to myself I’d probably write what you’d call solo music, slower and quieter material. Most of the time I can tell where something is going to belong, but there are definitely songs that could go either way. Historically there’s usually been the token slower song on a Seahaven record. We did Reverie Lagoon back in 2014 and that was mellow from start to finish. It really depends where we’re at creatively. Some songs are obvious and others depend on what project is being worked on at the time.”

You talked about entering a flow state while making the record. Could you expand on what that means? Did it force you to trust your instincts more? I’m the kind of person who rewrites constantly but twenty or thirty versions later I’m still changing things. Are you somebody who finishes a song and moves on?

“I’m naturally very detail-oriented, so if anything I probably work songs beyond the point where they should be left alone. Earlier releases were even more extreme in that direction. Over time I’ve learned to let go and accept things for what they are. Most of the time I think that’s the right choice, even though occasionally later I’ll hear a lyric and think another word might have worked better. But ultimately it’s better to get things out into the world.

With this release, after we played that show and got the machine moving again, it felt like that dam had broken. I’d go into my little home studio and just move through songs naturally. That doesn’t mean I stopped refining things, I still worked on bridges and arrangements and asked whether parts could be stronger, but there wasn’t that feeling of needing a set number of songs and forcing the process. It was very organic. Sometimes creativity becomes strenuous and you hit a wall, and that pause might last years. This time it didn’t feel like that. From beginning to end it all came together naturally and nothing felt forced.”

“Life just happened in the background, the usual trials and tribulations, then, eventually, there’s a point where I pick up a guitar and things start flowing naturally”

In terms of that, you talked about the record and said you weren’t consciously trying to turn life into songs. Was that natural?

“I think that’s another reason why there’s usually a fair amount of time between releases for us. There are other factors too, but I’ve always been a big lyrics person. As a listener and in the creative process, lyrics are one of my favourite parts. For me they’re cathartic and therapeutic. When it comes to writing, it’s not impossible to sit down and force a song out, but it’s much harder without some sort of emotional driver behind it.

If it’s the cart or the horse, for me life comes first, the lessons, the hurdles, the experiences, and then the music follows. Rather than deciding the music has to happen and shaping something afterwards, I enjoy having something real underneath it. That’s partly why there’s often time between records. You have to live some life and have experiences, and then the songwriting feels natural because it’s coming from a real place. You’re not trying to fabricate it or harvest it because it’s already there.”

When you’re writing, do you have a vision of how the final result should sound? Especially given that the lyrics seem to come naturally from what experiences you have been through.

“I think that might actually be my favourite part of the whole process. At the beginning it’s unclear, and then as you chip away at it – a riff here, a lyric there — they start turning into songs and the picture becomes clearer. You start seeing the bigger picture of what’s happening, and then a general theme or concept begins to emerge. At that point you can shape beginnings and endings and connect things into an overarching idea.

My favourite moments are the happy accidents. Some I realise years later, others happen while writing. That’s how you know it’s organic, you start noticing little through lines and references that make everything cohesive, even though they weren’t intentional. They just bleed into the lyrics or the sound. You realise, “Oh, that’s a nice callback,” and suddenly it all makes sense. I’ll do that intentionally too, but the accidental moments are always the best because they feel like they’re happening beyond me, almost subconsciously.”

V13 Cover Story, Issue 127, Seahaven

From a listener’s perspective, what do you hope people take from your lyrics, and how important is that to you?

“When I was younger, I probably cared more about people understanding every reference and every meaning. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realised music works differently depending on mood, time of day and where someone is in life. If someone gets anything from the music, that’s enough. If somebody puts the record on driving by the beach and doesn’t listen to a word but it makes them feel good, that’s great. Even though I personally dig deeply into lyrics, there’s plenty of music I love where lyrics aren’t the main driver, it just puts me in a certain space.

Specifically on this record, I think there’s a lot of loss explored in different ways, relationship-wise and in heavier, more definitive ways. The lyrics are often conversational, so when I listen back, I know who a song was written about and I sometimes imagine how they’d hear it. But that’s only one interpretation. Everyone else is going to hear something different, and that’s the beauty of music, people apply it to their own experiences. I think the record deals with universal feelings: endings, questioning things, relationship dynamics, getting older and reflecting on the people who’ve come in and out of your life. That naturally comes with age, and hopefully there’s something on there people can relate to.”

I’ve spoken to a few bands recently who released self-titled records at certain points in their career, and they’ve all felt reflective. What made this become a self-titled record?

“It happened similarly to how everything else took shape. We didn’t start by saying this was going to be the self-titled record. There were a couple of working titles, maybe things I’ll use later, but as it materialised it started feeling like a capsule of who we are. If somebody had never heard Seahaven before, this felt like a concise representation of us lyrically, sonically and even visually with the artwork. It felt like it carried little flavours from all our previous releases and worked as a summary of who we are.

We talked about it because self-titling a record later in your career can feel like a bold statement, but it just felt right. Now that it’s out, I’m really happy with the choice. It feels like a concise display of who we are, and even ties back into some of the lyrical ideas. It just felt like the right time.”

“The lyrics are often conversational, so when I listen back, I know who a song was written about and I sometimes imagine how they’d hear it.”

In terms of the themes, relationships, loss, was this a cathartic record to write, or was it uncomfortable looking back at those things? You have also talked about music being an outlet. How much does writing about those themes help personally?

“For me it’s huge. I have moments where I realise most of my friends, family or peers don’t really have an outlet like this. Even within the band, because they’re not writing lyrics, they don’t necessarily experience it the same way. For me, writing has always been my outlet. At this stage of life I’m really grateful to have it because it gives me a place to sort through things.

When you’re writing lyrics, you’re in a creative mindset and trying to approach situations or relationships in different ways. Through that process you often find new perspectives on things and naturally work through them yourself. It’s always been a positive thing for me. It lets you face subjects directly instead of leaving them sitting off to one side.”

Does this record feel like it closes certain chapters in your life?

“Maybe some of them. There are themes that probably sit across all our records, low moments, darkness, things like that. But when it comes to songs tied to specific relationships or people, writing them helps create closure where maybe there wasn’t any.

I look back at past releases and they feel like time capsules. Listening back is like looking at a tattoo, it reminds you where you were in that moment. You can revisit your mindset around a person, a family issue or whatever was happening. Listening to early material almost transports me back into my 19-year-old self, which is kind of trippy. It’s not something most people have as a reference point in everyday life, and it’s something I’m really appreciative of.”

I read somewhere that you didn’t pick up a guitar for two and a half years. Is that right?

“Yeah. That was before our 2020 release.

We’d done some fairly heavy touring and our last proper run was around 2016. I think by then we were a little burnt out, at least I was. We’re all childhood friends, so it wasn’t that we needed space from each other. We still saw each other all the time and we’re very close. But personally I felt like I needed to slow down. Touring is a very specific way of living, chaotic in a lot of ways and disconnected from the “real world” at times, so it just felt like the right time to step back. In doing that, we all started doing our own things.

You find new interests, new hobbies and different ways to spend your time. I think there was probably also a lack of inspiration creatively for a period. Sometimes you get absorbed into a new job, relationship or interest and, for me at least, I tend to go all in. You can get lost in that for a while before stepping back again.

So before the 2020 release there were definitely a couple of years where music wasn’t very prevalent in my life creatively. I still listened to music constantly, but writing wasn’t happening much. Around 2018 I did a project called Welcome Cafe, which was more lo-fi electronic, the other person handled most of the production and I focused more on lyrics. But when it came to writing rock music in that period, there just wasn’t much activity until eventually things started moving again.”

For somebody where music is such a huge part of their life, being detached from it for a couple of years, did that feel strange?

“I think it did. There was just a lot happening outside of music at that point. Sometimes in life you go down little side streets and eventually you’ve got to find your way back to the main road. Looking back, one thing that seems to be a recurring theme is that whether I isolate myself and write an entire record alone or whether it’s more collaborative, the spark that opens the creative floodgates often comes from simply getting in a room with the guys, even once. Playing old songs, picking up a guitar, feeling that energy of people bouncing ideas around, that seems to unlock something.

I think that’s what happened here too. We probably started casually, and then I went home, disappeared down a rabbit hole and started demoing ideas. Looking back, it does feel strange now, but at this stage of life you realise things happen in seasons. Life throws curveballs, and that was just a down season creatively. Eventually I found my way back to the main road.”

Now you are back on the main road, where do you see this journey going?

It’s interesting because technically we started in 2009 and the first record came in 2010, but we’ve just done a 15-year celebration for the debut album from 2011. Playing those shows and hearing people come up saying they discovered us in high school or grew up with the band is always surreal. I understand intellectually that those records were a long time ago, but because I’m so close to the project it doesn’t feel like that much time has passed.

“I look back at past releases and they feel like time capsules. Listening back is like looking at a tattoo, it reminds you where you were in that moment.”

We’re older now and it’s been six years since the last release, and now we’ve put out the self-titled record. But to me the band is always there, it’s always in me, so I lose perspective on how much time has passed for listeners versus how it feels internally. This record especially feels like it captures who we are really well. Maybe we’re not going to tour ten months of the year anymore, but we absolutely want to put our best foot forward and get out and play these songs. The last record landed during peak COVID so we barely got to play any of it live. There was a lot of missed opportunity there, so with this one we want to get out, put it in front of people and see where it goes.

As for solo music, life gets busier as you get older and it becomes about allocating time. I’ve got a handful, maybe even enough for a full record, of solo ideas that I need to properly dive into and record. It’s really just about making time and making sure you water all your gardens, as they say. Music is definitely a big garden for me, and I think for the guys too so it’s about giving it the time it deserves.”