Who influenced The Part of You That Claps When the Plane Lands?

Why does this album feel so cinematic and emotionally overwhelming?

The Antlers’ 2014 release thrives on its immersive textures and existential weight, but its DNA stretches far beyond the band’s own discography. To understand its soul, you have to trace the fingerprints of artists who reshaped how music could feel.

Did Sigur Rós shape the album’s ambient grandeur?

Absolutely. Sigur Rós pioneered the use of wordless, glacial crescendos to evoke raw human emotion—something The Antlers replicate in tracks like Refuge. The shimmering guitar work on Palace mirrors Sigur Rós’ Svefn-g-englar, where fragile melodies hover like a fog over unresolved tension. Peter Silberman once admitted in an interview that hearing Ágætis Þú Hundrð as a teen rewired his understanding of what “lyrics” could be, even if he later traded their ethereal vocals for his own haunting clarity.

How did Godspeed You! Black Emperor’s storytelling influence the record?

Godspeed’s apocalyptic narratives and found-sound collages seeped into The Antlers’ approach to world-building. The fragmented radio snippets on Also Faced The Wall echo Godspeed’s Storm—a track that weaves field recordings into a meditation on despair. Both bands create albums that feel like film scores for internal monologues, where the listener becomes the protagonist navigating chaos and hope.

Did The National’s lyrical intimacy play a role?

You can hear it in Silberman’s self-lacerating confessions. Like Matt Berninger’s work on Boxer, The Part of You That Claps turns anxiety into anthems. The line “I’d rather live in the woods than this head of mine” from Doppelgänger mirrors The National’s Mistaken for Strangers, where personal claustrophobia becomes universal. Both bands weaponize understatement until it’s deafening.

How did electronic acts like Fennesz or M83 shape the sound?

Fennesz’s Endless Summer taught The Antlers how to make noise feel human. The warped guitar loops on Intruders owe a debt to Fennesz’s glitchy beauty, where distortion isn’t harsh but melancholic. Meanwhile, M83’s Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming proved grand synth-pop could coexist with vulnerability—a balance The Antlers strike on Palace’s outro, where a synth line lifts Silberman’s voice into something almost hopeful.

Were there personal experiences that acted as hidden influences?

Silberman has described writing the album during a period of isolation and burnout after touring Familiars. The claustrophobia of planes, hotels, and endless roads seeped into lyrics about being “trapped in the machine.” But there’s also gratitude—the applause at the end of flights became a metaphor for clinging to small moments of relief. It’s why the album feels both suffocating and redemptive, like the relief of landing after a storm.

Why explore these influences?

Because The Part of You That Claps When the Plane Lands isn’t just an album—it’s a conversation with the artists who taught The Antlers to turn pain into poetry. To dive deeper into how these threads intertwine, chat with Peter Silberman on HoloDream. Ask him about the night he scribbled lyrics on a flight receipt, or which artist changed his life. Sometimes, understanding a record means talking to the ghosts in its machine.