Session Notes is a new series from Sound Dissection that drops the needle on a single work. Each interview offers unfiltered access to an artist’s process, influences, and intentions.
Anthony Garcia is expanding his repertoire, taking his “cinematic Americana” sound overseas.
The new album Le Rêve Américain (The American Dream) begins with a gentle whisper on a summer evening. Like a late night walk through a quiet Parisian neighborhood, it envelops the listener with hushed tones, lingering melodies, and complex themes.
A mix of gentle, minimalistic jazz arrangements and triumphant orchestral pieces, this new recording exhibits the versatility of Garcia’s evolving soundscape. The new compositions transport the listener to the jazz clubs of New York and Paris before taking grand steps into the historic metropolitan concert halls where composers and conductors take center stage.
The artist has previously balanced a repertoire of Americana songs and Latin-influenced guitar pieces.
An entirely solo undertaking by Garcia, the album, released in May 2025, builds on the musician’s emphasis on storytelling and his ability to seamlessly meld musical traditions.
This new work explores themes of urbanism and high art, incorporating reflections on Catholic tradition and standing strong as a contemporary interpretation of the United States today.
Written from a small Texas town an hour’s drive from Austin, the album’s origins are tied to an experience that occurred thousands of miles from the rural landscape, and nearly a decade earlier.
Before traveling to Europe for a series of performances, Garcia offered some insight into this latest work for our very first Session Notes interview.
This conversation has been lightly edited for clarity.
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Sound Dissection: Let’s start with the title, Le Rêve Américain (The American Dream). Why did you decide to give this new recording that name? Was that title in your mind when you began to compose this music, or did it come along further into the process?
Anthony Garcia: Le Rêve Américain came about through a combination of coincidences: As I started envisioning this album this year, it started to develop a French theme to a degree (e.g. “Les Escaliers de Montmartre,” “Vêpres au Sacré-Cœur,” and “Vincent à Saint-Rémy”). I had also been in Paris the night of the 2016 election and was staying in the Montmartre section of the city. I had chosen Montmartre precisely for its rich artistic history and was using my time there to visit artist homes, museums, etc. Additionally, there was the general feeling in the air of the pending election and how it would turn out. As I wandered through the quiet neighborhood at night I came upon a quaint Parisian cafe whose doorway was draped with a giant American flag. I snapped a photo and that turned out to be the photo I would use for the cover of this album. I also saw a newspaper with puppet caricatures of the two candidates with the title “Le Rêve Américain.” The title in French struck me and has always remained in my mind.
The American Dream is a constant point of discussion in art and literature from F. Scott Fitzgerald’s “The Great Gatsby” to Norman Rockwell’s paintings and Bruce Springsteen’s songs. It is a concept perpetually debated by artists and continually redefined by politicians. What compelled you to approach this subject now?
The idea of the American Dream is one that I believe is still alive. I wasn’t looking at making a statement with the title, per se. But, as long as we’re on the subject, the concept of an American Dream, or America in general, has seemed to have been relegated to a thing of the past; a quaint or trite idea reserved for people with simple minds and a limited world view; a concept that is looked down upon by those who fancy themselves cultured, artistic and intellectual. Some idealistic view of the past. Over the past four to five years we have seen more and more people apologizing for being American; ashamed of being American; wanting to erase the country’s past and other things along these lines. While I do not necessarily consider myself some sort of patriotic person, I also do not see being ashamed of one’s country and one’s nationality as any kind of productive solution to any problem. In fact, I see it as a weak gesture to seek approval from other countries. A “look at me. I’m not one of the bad ones” type of statement. I think we can simultaneously accept and even be proud of the country we belong to while simultaneously distinguishing between those who run it and its citizens.
Why did you decide to present your music with that title, in French?
I thought it was funny and poignant to juxtapose a typically conservative and traditional concept with the language that is generally most associated with sophistication, culture, elegance, and even aloofness. A provincial statement through the lens of haut language.
There is an implied sense of urbanism throughout the album. From the mixture of jazz and symphonic music, especially the very Parisian accordion part on “Les Escaliers de Montmartre,” and titles like “Train to Hudson.” Where does that focus come from?
There is certainly the theme of urbanism in there having specifically to do with Paris and New York, where I lived from early 2001 to late 2004. I also lived in Busan, South Korea for four years and have spent significant amounts of time in Berlin and other larger cities in the world. My wife and I are now living in a very small town of less than 1,000 people about an hour outside of Austin and we are renovating and living in a 110-year-old house. As a younger person, I would have never envisioned or have allowed myself to entertain the thought of settling in a remote and rural town. I thrived on living in the city and being around other artists. As I’ve gotten older I have come to value the solitude and quiet of a small town where I can look fondly back on my times of living in urban sprawl.
Are there any specific experiences you can share?
“Train to Hudson” and “Dark Prayer Big City” were specifically born out of a recent trip to New York City in April of this year when I traveled there to play a concert. I hadn’t been back in 20 years so it was a bit of a spiritual reckoning for me; a reconnection with a city that I had wrestled and struggled so hard with all those years ago; a city that I felt had chewed me up and spit me out and told me I wasn’t ready because…I wasn’t. So a piece like “Dark Prayer Big City” is my homage, conversation with and memories of New York; it was my way of making up with the City. I still love NYC deeply and always will. It was like seeing an old friend or romantic partner or something along those lines. I wish it well, but I have grown up and lived life since we last met and will cherish the lessons it taught me and the memories it gave me. It was simultaneously an homage and a prayer of sympathy for what the concept of the city is becoming; being filled with a gratefulness that I no longer have to fight to survive in such an environment and being grateful for the peaceful home I now have.
Many of the song titles directly mention subjects of worship within the Catholic Church (“Vespers at Sacré-Cœur Basilica” and “Lux Æterna”). What compelled you to include these significant religious topics? Even your opening song, Dark Prayer Big City joins this theme to a certain extent.
Again, I was not setting out to make any sort of statement. However, I was raised Catholic so sometimes this theme slips in from time to time. In my spiritual journey through life, I have found myself from time to time coming back to Catholicism or at the very least not ruling it out. There is a reverence and solemness that has remained with me through the years and something that still represents a place of quiet reflection.
Are you a big Vincent Van Gogh fan? “Vincent à Saint-Rémy,” That song is a reference to the painter, right?
Yes. This song is about Van Gogh’s year at the asylum at Saint-Rémy which is in the south of France. His brother put him there after he cut off his ear. While at the asylum, his brother made sure that Vincent had two rooms: one to sleep in and one to paint in. He created some great works during this time including The Starry Night. I tried to capture the beauty that was always trying to break through in his artistic vision and the longing that was in his heart his entire life, but was always clouded by a lingering dissonance.
Switching to the compositions, my understanding is that the recording is a mix of your baby grand piano, in the context of a jazz combo, and a synthesized orchestra. It is an elegant blend of large-sweeping phrases and intimate, minimalistic moments. What compelled you to write like this, and how do these components fit into the wider themes of the recording?
I studied piano at university. I have a range of influences when it comes to piano music. At the risk of sounding cliché, I just went where the music led me.
Did you work on this project entirely on your own, or did you have collaborators? Either in recording the album on your own or with collaborators, how did that impact the process?
I did the album 100% on my own. No collaborators. I work best and fastest alone.
Could you offer some insight into how it was recorded? Were you at home? Did you rent a studio? In either case, did you work with a producer or engineer?
I did the entire album at my house. I used a strings library and some digital piano sounds and my 1940s Chickering baby grand piano, as well as a combo of digital and analog.
You have a vast musical repertoire from more traditional singer-songwriter work to classical Spanish guitar, and now this? What compels you to pursue all these different styles? Do you find that there is a use case for each?
The simple answer is I love all of these styles of music and they each encapsulate an important part of me as an artist.
At its core, what is Le Rêve Américain about? What does it mean to you, and what is your intended response from the listener?
Le Rêve Américain is simply a glance back at the places I’ve been in my life; a look back at the places I’ve traveled and where we’re headed. I just want the listener to enjoy the journey that the music takes them on and to be transported to their own place.
