iji is one of the most prolific bands you’ve never heard of. For years, band leader Zach Burba was the only member, playing and multi-tracking every instrument himself to create more than 11 studio albums’ worth of crisp, catchy psychedelia that sounds far better than it should, given that Burba recorded it all at home.

Since then, however, Burba’s pet project has grown into an unwieldy full band that includes as many as 43 other members. It makes sense listening to their latest record, Bubble — only their second recorded in a proper studio, as every song is so loaded with sounds that come together neatly, only becoming chaotic when Burba’s brand of richly melodic psych-pop calls for it.

Despite the abbreviated recording period, months of thought went into Bubble, including months of dream journaling by band members in order to create an album “written in dream language.” We spoke with Burba about why Bubble is a punk record at heart, his exhausting songwriting process and how getting arrested helped them land a record deal.

Hometown: Phoenix, AZ

Homebase: Seattle, WA

Describe your music to someone who's never heard it before.

Unreliable music, west coast music, transcendental party music, people music, regular music, wild music.

How did you first start playing music?

Both of my parents are musicians. I grew up in a house full of instruments. I shared a room with my brother until we were adults, and we spent all of our free time listening to and playing music together.

What's your songwriting process like?

I sit for hours with a classical guitar and go out of my mind trying to find something that passes my tests. The tests are constantly changing. Once the music and melody are in order, I play the song over and over, and if lyrics start to happen, then the song may live. If not I usually forget about it. For every iji song that makes it to a record there’s at least 20 songs that were abandoned.

You spent a long time recording independently without a proper studio. How does it compare being signed and being able to take advantage of a full studio?

The ability to work in a studio came out of becoming friends with engineer Nich Wilbur at the The Unknown recording studio. It's obviously a totally different approach, but I finally felt ready to make that leap after hanging around the Unknown a handful of times and experiencing its possibilities. It's a massive, old church that is full of ghosts, natural reverb, tape machines and vibraphones. It's set up for easy experimentation and even has a basketball hoop. We pay for the space with our limited resources so have to work much faster than at home, but we've embraced that urgency as a part of the records made there. It's still scary to leave that comfortable infinity of home recording, but it seems worth it lately.

Your list of regular band members is a little unwieldy. Do you ever have trouble organizing musicians?

I have tons of trouble organizing everything in my life, that's why the list of band members is unwieldy. The lineup that plays on Bubble have all been part of the solid band for about two years now, and that's the most consistent the band has ever been. I've come to terms with the fluid band but do really enjoy its moments of stability.

How does collaborating with a full band compare to working more on your own and multi-tracking instruments for the recordings?

They are two different religions, and I'm devoted to both. Working on my own is one of the few experiences of 'home' that I can still feel. I've read a lot of artists talk about the way time disappears when you record alone. Sometimes it feels like waking up after an alien abduction. I finish a track and realize that seven hours have passed and I haven't eaten all day. The hunger sets in all at once; I've completely forgotten to pay attention to my body. Working with a band can be equally transcendent when it's right. I'm thrilled to have the band I am currently working with. I trust their sense completely. That's hard to get to.

You've released at least 11 studio albums' worth of material at this point (even if it hasn't all been released as such). How do you manage to be so prolific without running out of ideas, musically or lyrically?

I don't know! Robert Wyatt was asked a similar question and compared it to throwing darts. As long as you never hit the bullseye, there is a reason to keep throwing. I would add that my bullseye is unclear and I hardly know what direction to even throw the things, making it an even more interesting and prolonged game.

What does it mean to you to write an album in "dream language?" Was it difficult or did it come naturally?

I have a lot of thoughts on this but hardly know how to explain it. The theory was based on the idea that our dreams are full of images. The images represent real parts of our lives, but it often takes research and abstract thought to figure out what they mean, and even then, it's only a guess. This sort of personal mystery is the most fascinating subject I've ever come across.

I thought that if I was able to turn off my filters and free write lyrics inspired by dreams I would get at the important and emotional themes I ought to be writing about without knowing what they are. To finish the songs, I meticulously edited the stream of consciousness lyrics adding more interesting words here and there from a clearer mindset. This seems counter to the process, but I feel like it improved the songs. 

Was there anything new inspiring you while writing Bubble, whether it be other music, visual art or just a certain idea?

I'm always digging for new music. For Bubble, some of the biggest influences in that way were ‘80s records like The dB's Stand For Decibles, Arthur Russell's Catalogue, reading about Sun Ra, Laurie Anderson's output. There was a lot of non-musical influence — a few of the instrumentals came out of trying to imagine what certain paintings by Kandinsky would sound like as iji songs. I've read a lot poetry to get in the zone, Gary Snyder works... I'm still looking for the perfect poets. On the same tour we had our dream journals we also listened to Terrence McKenna lectures on the regular. All of this and much more.

What's your favorite part about touring?

The constant motion and unpredictability. Home life feels so dull for weeks after returning.

What's the craziest thing that's ever happened to you while on tour?

I'm trying to avoid using the word “crazy,” but the most shocking was getting aggressively arrested in New Paltz, NY for swimming in a public pool after dark. We had to rearrange our tour to return to New Paltz for a Court Date, but this inconvenience led to making several new friends, coincidentally having breakfast with one of our art heroes, letting go of involved fears and ultimately getting us a record deal with Team Love.

How do you try to make your live shows unique?

As a band we have little desire to faithfully recreate our records live. We idealize the 'in the moment' ideas. We're also heavily influenced by the vibe of the room and audience and often let that creep into the music.

One random fun fact about iji, go!

Whoops! The one that popped up is actually a secret. Sorry!