For Southern California singer-songwriter Jack Larkin, change is a central part of his songwriting and new music. On his forthcoming fourth album, Purkinje Shift, arriving August 21, Larkin transforms uncertainty into an immersive sonic landscape where moments of clarity are fleeting, confusion is inevitable, and growth happens somewhere in between. Framed by the metaphor of a vision correction procedure that never offers permanent resolution, the record explores the emotional cycles of self-discovery through lush indie-folk, chamber-pop, and psychedelic textures that feel both deeply personal and endlessly expansive.
Drawing inspiration from artists like Daniel Rossen, Panda Bear, Nick Drake, and Animal Collective while still sounding fresh, Purkinje Shift marks Larkin's most ambitious and vulnerable work to date. The album promises to balance intricate acoustic arrangements with electronic experimentation, reflecting his background in scoring, production, and sound design. Written during a transformative period in his life, the songs document shifting relationships, evolving identities, and the acceptance that life's defining moments rarely arrive with lasting certainty. Lead single "Colorburst" encapsulates that philosophy, closing the album by embracing change as an ongoing process rather than a destination.
In our conversation with Jack Larkin, we discuss the deeply personal experiences behind Purkinje Shift, the vision-based concept that unexpectedly tied the record together, his evolving songwriting process, and how stepping outside of creative comfort zones shaped both the album and his outlook. From alternate guitar tunings and cinematic composition to the emotional weight of reinvention, Larkin offers an insightful look into the creative journey behind what may be his most compelling release yet.
Purkinje Shift revolves around cycles of clarity and confusion, what inspired you to explore this concept, and how personal is it to your own life?
I’d been writing the songs before knowing what the overall concept would be, but they definitely seemed to be about change. A friend reached out to make a music video for the first song on the album “Afterimage” and it sort of forced me to figure out a throughline for the album. That led to the vision procedure concept that bookends the album, and from there I started pulling from actual vision phenomena: “Scotopia” is a fancy word for night vision, “Cellini’s Halo” is an optical phenomenon, and the album title refers to how we perceive color differently in changing light. A lot of it conveniently mapped onto what I was already writing about. It’s the most personal record I’ve made, even if the vision metaphor keeps it at some distance.
The album follows a loosely defined protagonist. How much of that character is autobiographical versus fictional?
I’d say every song is definitely inspired by real experiences I’ve had, but some more than others. I do feel personal connections to songs like “Matches & Oil” or “Grandfather’s Axe” for instance but I also think they speak to a general sense of self-transformation that a lot of people can relate to. The “protagonist” sort of gave me some wiggle room to explore things I wouldn’t have written about so directly otherwise.
The idea that “clarity is temporary” is central to the record, can you expand on what that realization means to you now?
I think we’re all sort of perpetually doomed to feel disoriented and unsure of ourselves from time to time, but that’s okay. Just like getting a new prescription for your glasses, eventually you have to come back and get things checked out. I think the big takeaway for me is that the more you go through this cycle and become aware of it, the more confidence you build for the next time around.
The album has been described as “kaleidoscopic” and full of sonic surprises, what were you intentionally experimenting with sonically this time around?
I remember someone telling me my last album sounded like “video game music.” It was meant as a compliment but it definitely pushed me in a different direction. I’d been getting into Fleet Foxes, Joanna Newsom, and other acoustic-leaning music. I bought a banjo and a mandolin just to take me outside of my comfort zone a bit. At the same time I couldn’t let go of the synths, drum machines, and psychedelic textures. The result still shows my synthy/digital roots but I think the acoustic sounds give the synthetic stuff something to push against.
You draw comparisons to artists like Panda Bear and Daniel Rossen, how did those influence you?
When I first started learning to sing I was singing along to lots of AnCo/Panda Bear and Beach Boys stuff, so the double tracked harmonies became a big part of my sound. The Rossen influence came a bit later. I started watching Grizzly Bear/Department of Eagles performances to study his alt tunings and unique chord shapes. A lot of the album came together from alt tunings and chord voicings I either borrowed or invented. There’s something about locking yourself into a specific tuning that actually forces you to get more creative within those constraints.
There’s a blend of organic and electronic textures throughout. How did you approach balancing those elements?
Every song on the album started with guitar. I’d start playing with chord shapes and different directions the song could go before recording each individual section. I then sort of frankensteined everything together in my DAW until the structure felt like a song. But the guitar was always the backbone so the goal was to use the electronic elements to compliment the guitar work, not overshadow it. It’s honestly kind of the opposite of how I used to write. In the past I’ve often built out an electronic track and layered guitar on top of it, whereas this time the electronica elements are sitting on top of the guitar itself.
You mentioned that working on other artists’ music pushed you toward creating your own, how did that transition shape your identity as an artist?
I went to film school and have a lot of friends who I’ve composed original score for (and in turn they’ve been kind enough to help me make music videos). I also do a bit of producing and dipped my toe in sync licensing for a bit. Scoring to picture is completely different from writing a song by itself, but I think it’s given me a bit of a cinematic approach to songwriting. It’s made me step outside of a typical “verse chorus verse chorus bridge” structure for a lot of my songwriting.
You’ve called this your most personal record lyrically, what changed for you in your writing approach this time?
I’ve definitely written personal songs before, but the last album I did was made with sync licensing in mind. In sync, the lyrics are supposed to be generic in a way – applicable to almost anything an editor is working on. So while I was writing that, I sort of had a backlog of personal ideas/thoughts that hadn’t been written to song yet. After the sync album, I got tired of writing all those vague lyrics and simultaneously was going through lots of change. It just felt like the right time to really dive into those thoughts and make an album out of it.
Were there any songs that were particularly difficult or cathartic to write?
I’d say that tracks 2-4 (Scotopia, Matches & Oil, and The Photographer) were the most challenging. It’s a suite of songs all in the same alt tuning that flow into each other. I started out with dozens of different sections I recorded with no idea how they’d fit together. It ended up being a very modular process. I just kept producing and tinkering until the structure revealed itself. The result sort of sounds like it’s a deliberate 12 minute piece someone wrote from A to Z on guitar, but that’s pretty much the opposite of how it came together.
“Colorburst” serves as the album’s closing track, why did it feel like the right way to end the journey?
Colorburst was actually the very first song I wrote for the album, which sort of ended up working with the cyclical theme. So in a way I wanted it to feel like the closing but also the beginning of something. It became a finish line for me to work towards when writing the other songs and I kept coming back to it as a reference point. I actually ended up reworking the first song, Afterimage, to sound more similar to Colorburst and bookend the album.
How does the visualizer enhance or reinterpret the song’s message?
When we were shooting one of the music videos there was an oscilloscope on set that I just knew I had to get my hands on. I ended up using it as a visualizer because it sort of feels like a weird medical instrument that a surgeon might use in the vision procedure the song is actually about.
You’ve described the album as a “ladder” out of a confusing period, what did you learn about yourself while making it?
I definitely learned a lot about friendships, relationships, and myself. I lost some things in that period of change, but the solitude gave me a chance to re-design myself into who I aspire to be one day. For the first time in a while I had a clearer picture of what I want the next few years to look like, rather than just going with the flow.
If there’s one feeling or take away you want people to leave with after hearing the album, what would it be?
I’ve had this recurring thought that a great album should feel like an amusement park: there’s variety in every direction but it all feels cut from the same cloth. You can’t really see or think of the outside world when you’re in it. There’s the adrenaline filled drops as well as the slower, atmospheric rides. There’s stops for food and drink when you need a breather before one last cathartic drop at the end. While leaving, you’re amazed by everything it managed to contain in one place. It’s sad to go, but you know it’ll be there when you come back. If someone walked away from the album with that feeling, it’d mean everything to me.
What's next for Jack Larkin?
Well I don’t want to spoil anything too much, but I do have a good idea of what my next album will be. It’ll probably be a bit lighter and tropical, but also more noisy and aggressive at the same time. I’m also trying to write stuff in a more linear manner as opposed to the sort of modular process I used on this album. I think it worked out okay in the end but I’m always trying to change up the way I make music.
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