NYC trio Nada Surf recorded its third record on its own, away from the auspices of another major label looking to catch radio lightning in a bottle a la “Popular,” the ubiquitous MTV smash from the band’s 1996 debut, High/Low. (The hit-free follow-up, The Proximity Effect, was released by Elektra in Europe in 1998 but didn’t see domestic light, and on the band’s own imprint at that, until 2000.) The result of not having to conform to any expectations has resulted in an album that exceeds any there may have been. Singer/guitarist Matthew Caws and crew still deal in frantic pop (the new wavey “Hi-Speed Soul,” “The Way You Wear Your Head”), but Let Go’s power derives mostly from its sense of quiet calm. Acoustic-based tracks like the haunting “Killian’s Red,” “Blizzard Of ‘77” and “Neither Heaven Nor Space” are beautiful and emotional through the obvious tunefulness. Caws’ material is so strong, the band deftly follows the weak, sung-in-French “Là Pour Ça” (which roughly translates into “really bad idea”) with the plaintive urgency of the stunning, hard-charging “Treading Water”: “Treading water, treading white wine/Seeing borders, seeing straight lines/I get these feelings that I don’t have much time/Always rushing, always late.” Nada Surf has consistently produced worthy tunes, but with Let Go, the band has created a near-perfect record to hold onto with all the might you can muster.

Caws called MAGNET as he strolled the streets of Manhattan on the way home from a birthday party. Admitting to having a few cocktails, he occasionally rambled but mostly exuded loquacious enthusiasm.

How do you guys feel about what you’ve accomplished with this record?
We’ve been playing a lot of acoustic shows and just generally moving toward some calmer stuff, so the record feels natural to us. It sounds like what we sound like right now. We weren’t really thinking about how it was going to be received. We really kind of made it in a vacuum. We were broke, first of all, so we were really making it by ourselves in every sense of the word. We made some demos, but we really didn’t give them to anybody. We just wanted to make a record and not really think about any kind of end result.

How different was this experience vs. recording for a major that’s looking for a repeat of a hit?
Oh, it was miles better. We were really recording for a ghost indie because we didn’t know who it was going to be. It was recorded on pocket money. We toured from New York to L.A. in June of 2001 and paid for studio time with our t-shirt money. It was funny because it was this huge pile of cash, but it was all singles and fives. We didn’t have to please anybody, and if you’re with an indie, you only have to be true to yourself. If they’re a good label, they like whatever it is about you that you like about what you do. Or something like that. That was phrased terribly, but working with a major was awful. It was a really bad experience. When we were making The Proximity Effect, our A&R guy called me and said, “Listen, I really love this record, it’s really mature, you’ve really grown as a songwriter, but there are no hits. If we don’t have a single, we’re not going to be able to work on this record.” That’s a really bad thing to hear in the middle of making a record. You’re already under enough pressure because you’ve had this sort of unexpected minor hit.

If a major label started sniffing around you guys again, what would it take for you to sign?
I don’t know what it would take. It just doesn’t seem like a good idea. I just don’t see that this kind of stuff would be on the radio. What’s the point in trying? It’s just a waste of money. It would be great if there was good stuff on the radio because it would be better for kids who don’t know how to go out and buy good records and fill their lives with good songs. That’s why I’m so happy about the Strokes and the White Stripes and all that stuff doing well, even if the hype is absolutely ridiculous.

Rock is back, you know.
Right, right. Like it ever went away. Does it need saving? Who’s going to save rock ‘n’ roll? It’s so silly. Remember like in ‘86 or ‘87 and synthesizers were going to take over the world? And remember “rocktronica” in 1997? It’s ridiculous.

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