Paz Lenchantin: Stepping Into the Spotlight  

Throughout her 25-year career, Paz Lenchantin has become a fixture of bass thanks to her presence in bands like the Pixies, A Perfect Circle, Zwan, and Entrance. Her ten-year stint in the Pixies took her status to new heights, as filling in the shoes of Kim Deal earned her the love of the fans, while she also became a major songwriter and figure for the celebrated post-rock outfit. But when the band completed its 2023 tour in support of the album Doggrel and reentered the studio to begin work on their new material, Lenchantin was delivered a devestating blow when she learned that the Pixies were cutting ties with her, and that her writing and playing on the new album would be scrapped.

Heartbroken, the 51-year-old bassist disappeared from the spotlight and retreated to her home in Los Angeles, and eventually to Mexico City, where she could get away from her familiar surroundings. As she felt her lowest, she told herself that she’d never step foot on the stage again. She placed her cherished 1965 Fender Precision Bass in its case and didn’t pick it up for what would be the longest duration of her career. But one day, Paz walked into her home studio and looked around at the plush space that had been assembled for her by her savvy tech friends. She realized that she felt foreign in this room and didn’t even fully understand how all of it was connected. In an inspired moment, Lenchantin completely unwired and unplugged every cable in the space. She then spent weeks rethreading every channel and assembling it all back together herself. In doing so, she realized, “To truly connect with something, you have to be the one who wires it.”

Her pull to music slowly returned, as she began finding solace through her seven-foot Steinway piano, which brought her a deep comfort and sense of connection once again. Before long, she had a body of material that she knew she had to unveil for herself, and in that same moment she realized that she had to go this alone and do this entirely by herself. In that flush of clarity, her debut album Triste was born. Having always worked on other people’s music while playing the role of side-woman, Paz felt a new sense of freedom in answering to no one and writing from the depths of her own voice. The Buenos Aires-born Argentinian put on all of the hats of producer, songwriter, vocalist, multi-instrumentalist, and at last, once again, bassist.

The 12-song album conveys every bit of the emotional rollercoaster Lenchantin experienced, while the undertone of Spanish balladry and beautiful orchestration gives us the most in-depth and vulnerable taste of her voice as a writer. Moody and brooding, her bass lines serve as the central nerve on songs like “Sin Dos,” “Woman of Nazareth,” “Novella,” and “Wish I Was There.” Late in the process, she invited A Perfect Circle bandmates Josh Freese (drums) and Troy Van Leeuwen (guitar) to contribute, along with mixer Chris Coady (Beach House, TV On The Radio, Yeah Yeah Yeahs) and guitarist Cole Alexander to collaborate, which gave new perspective to the parts that she had initially tracked on her own.

In healing her trauma and completing her first-ever solo album, Lenchantin rediscovered her love of bass and found herself feeling more passionate about it than ever before. She poured herself into every note and every line. The literal and figurative rewiring that she went through not only saved her sanity but also reinvigorated her purpose as a musician. No longer merely a fixture of a band, Lenchantin is stepping into the spotlight alone for the first time. 

You’ve been tremendously busy between writing and producing this album, creating your own record label, Hideous Human Records, and doing every component of the release process. How are you feeling at this point? 

I’ve been a one-man show over here. It’s been a creative outburst but also a learning experience of how to run everything, and realizing how much you have learned without knowing it. It was so important for me to do this on my own at this point of my life with everything that has happened, and it was more about that process of doing it myself than it was the end goal of finishing something. It was about knowing who I am through this journey, and [being] as raw as possible. There’s something deep inside of you that wants to be better and see the blessings of everything. I’m just so thrilled to even have the passion to want to keep going in such a different and inspired way. There was a moment when I almost felt that the spark wasn’t going to happen again. But I have to say that the flame keeps getting hotter. 

It was so important for me to do this on my own at this point of my life with everything that has happened, and it was more about that process of doing it myself than it was the end goal of finishing something. It was about knowing who I am through this journey, and [being] as raw as possible.

What were the roots of this solo album?

I honestly just wanted to learn my studio. I built a beautiful studio that became a jam room for my friends to play in while I was off touring. I never really knew it well, until I was left with no other choice than to rewire my studio and learn it. The best way to learn it was to use it and start recording. The only person around was me. My Steinway piano has been my most inspiring thing, and I went through my voice memos and started to go back and record ideas. In learning my studio, I realized I had a lot in me that needed to come out. I realized that I had to make a record. I had a broken heart from the Pixies, and it was pretty severe to be honest. Imagine one heartbreak with one person, but this was with three people at the same time. 

What prompted you to rewire your studio? That seems very symbolic of what you experienced during this period. 

Originally my studio was wired by a good friend and it became this mess of cables everywhere, and I just wanted to start from scratch. The rewiring was a big, pivotal moment, and I’m so thankful for that time, which was a perfect transformation. It was almost cathartic. I made a record out of it and I’m excited to make another one, but I don’t think I ever want to do something like that again. It was very isolating, and I like to collaborate. I like to be in the hands and ears of someone else. It was great because it allowed me to learn my studio, but it’s such a privilege to have a producer and engineer to throw an idea off of. But every artist needs to take a time in their lifespan to just be themselves and see what it is. 

Did it feel liberating to create this album in your own space, without a record label or bandmates or deadlines or any outside pressure? 

It genuinely did, but I constantly felt an urgency to finish it. For months I thought I was done, but it really helped getting other ears on the material. It wasn’t until I called Chris Coady, who mixed it, that the ideas really expanded. I brought in Josh Freese and Troy Van Leeuwen, and that helped a lot. I had one song left, “I Wish I Was There,” and I sent it to Josh, and he also happened to hear “Hang Tough” and asked if he could take a stab at that one, too. It’s very sensitive because for the first time I understood how people are intimidated by what someone else might think of your work when it hasn’t been revealed yet. Having Josh and Troy listen to it gave me a push to keep going. 

How great was it to have two of your A Perfect Circle bandmates be a part of this? 

It brought me so much joy! They’re both beyond amazing. Troy just blows my mind; he did the lead solos on “Novella” and “Hang Tough,” which Josh also played on. Josh also did “Wish I Was There.” My friend Cole Alexander of Black Lips plays the guitar solo on “Wish I Was There.” My good friend Jeffrertiti replaced a lot of my drums and helped with guitar work and sounds. It was nice to have someone move things around and get me out of my little bubble. 

In Pixies I was doing something that I don’t recommend to anyone, and that is to replace someone you idolize [Kim Deal]. You end up becoming the stepmother to where no matter how good you are, you’re never going to be them.

Having been a band player most of your career, was it easy to find your voice as a songwriter? 

It happened so organically that it did come very naturally. When I look back at my journey, I find that I’m really a chameleon as a collaborator. I want to know who you are and become a part of you to collaborate with you. It’s all about their ideas, their aesthetic, their background. I started my career with giants. From that place, I’m very submissive. When you’re submissive, you also gain a lot of their knowledge to adapt to their ways. I will say that with Pixies it pushed me in other ways that none of the other bands could have. In Pixies I was doing something that I don’t recommend to anyone, and that is to replace someone you idolize. You end up becoming the stepmother to where no matter how good you are, you’re never going to be them. Kim [Deal] was also a leader of the band, and it really pushed me to become not just a mysterious rock chick in the back — I had to step forward. The most I have gained from Pixies was Charles’ [vocalist/songwriter Black Francis’] writing ability. He offered me a skill that has helped me onward. His mindset is really compatible with mine, and I cherish what I learned from him, even though I’m extremely upset with the band and their irresponsibility of how they let me go. 

You’re a multi-instrumentalist but have paved your career on bass. What role did you want it to play on this material? 

One of my favorite parts about making this record was pushing myself. No one was forcing me to be anything, so I was the one motivating and challenging myself. I had missed playing bass and I was so happy to pick it up and use it creatively and push myself on it. Every day I plugged it in, I was asking what the project wanted me to do with it. For example, when I was working on the song “Novella,” I was talking to my friend who did the album art and she brought up the Zwan song “Settle Down,” which I co-wrote with Billy [Corgan]. When I hung up with her, I went to the recording, and I remembered that bass line and I added a tip of the hat from that onto the song. I added a lot of small references in my bass playing on this album to the bands I was in before. “Sin Dios” is very Entrance Band, “Wish I Was There” is very Pixies, and there are a lot of little parts inspired by A Perfect Circle. 

Where did bass come in the recording process?

I recorded the way that I would never want anyone to record, so it’s forward and backwards and forward and backwards. I always like to track bass after drums. I actually played drums on all of the songs originally, and then it was all replaced except for on a few songs. To me, the bass is following the drums as well as being together with them. The piano is very orchestral and fills a lot of gaps, so you can add drums to it. Then you bring in the bass to connect it all and have it tell its own story. But then I would rerecord the drums to evolve with the changes, and then I would re-record the bass to match those new drums. It was a whole cycle of chase. Every song was done depending on the scenario; if it sounded good, I kept it, and if I felt I could’ve pushed a little more, I’d redo it. 

Playing bass of course makes me feel at home. I never think of Thin Lizzy that much, but lately they’ve just been on my mind, especially with Phil Lynott and his role. I’ve never had a band that’s been all mine before, and it feels just incredible, especially having bass at the front of it all. 

You could have made a very bass-upfront album, but you chose restraint and nuance. What role would you say bass plays on these songs? 

I’ve had this guy staring at me this whole time [holds up a stoic picture of Miles Davis hanging above her desk]. He was in front of me saying, “Is that all you got?” A song like “Sin Dios,” which is pretty epic, has extremely complex bass playing. That’s the first song ever in my life that I’m not able to play and sing at the same time. It’s a beautiful bass line, one of my favorites. The song has a folky, kind of operatic feel, and the bass part is one of my favorite things I wrote. The bass plays the exact role that it wanted to on this album, and I really pushed myself on every bass line I wrote. It marries the piano and the drums, the strings and vocals, and moves along with its own voice. 

I appreciate being minimal, but I just want to rip! I used to have my bass action so high that I couldn’t rip, just to prevent me from going off during those [Pixies] songs. But I did learn a lot from it, because if you’re not allowed to go off and extend what you’re doing on the bass, then all you can do is find the interesting notes.

Your bass pairs beautifully with your violin on “Sin Dos.” Did you write those with that interplay in mind? 

The strings came first in that song. The first bass part I wrote to them was kind of boring comparatively. One of the challenges for me in the Pixies was the minimalism, which is an art form; I was always challenged by that in that band. I appreciate being minimal, but I just want to rip! I used to have my bass action so high that I couldn’t rip, just to prevent me from going off during those songs. But I did learn a lot from it, because if you’re not allowed to go off and extend what you’re doing on the bass, then all you can do is find the interesting notes. With Pixies I learned a lot of material built off that. It’s simplicity and a minimalist art form that I got to really love and engage myself with. But it started wiring me to be like that, so I’ve been pushing myself to get away from minimalism and get back into the drama of songwriting where the wind is blowing and you don’t know where things are going to land. There’s no repetition, and even when it goes around, you don’t land on the tonic. All of the things that make bass playing phenomenal. I always think of bass playing as being like Picasso: You can make a bird with one line. You can make a whole horizon with one stroke. And that is the capability of bass. I’m in love with it again, and I’m so happy to be back doing it. I could never imagine being onstage without a bass. It’s my element. 

“Woman of Nazareth” is a very bass-driven piece.  

That one was written on my Prophet keyboard. I started writing it for a soundtrack I had been working on, but I was a little embarrassed by how it was coming off at the time. I brought it out when I first started to record this album. That one was really fun because I did an experiment in not allowing any notes to be on top of each other. It’s driving because all of the notes are moving on their own, but together. The bass kind of carries that mission.

How did you track your bass on this album? 

I must say that I love my Tech 21 SansAmp. I have a Neve that I go through for a little compression. The bass sound is all my bass; her natural tone is just so good. I did have to figure out the compression for each song, but for the most part I kept it clean. 

I’m guessing you used your beloved 1965 Precision Bass. 

I did, but “No Sí” is in drop-D, so I used my Gibson Firebird on it for the first half. On so many songs I tried to use my other basses like my Hofner, and then I always went back to my Precision. It is such a beautiful instrument. One of my favorite parts of the album is the first five seconds of “Novela,” where you can just hear the bass. 

Billy [Corgan] looked at me and said, “That’s not your bass.” I told him that actually Billy Howerdel had gotten it for me. He asked me to go to all of the stores in Chicago and see if anything strikes me. I took it very seriously…unfortunately, I have expensive taste [laughs].

That P-Bass has become pretty iconic in the bass world. 

I have to credit Billy Corgan for that bass. Once I left A Perfect Circle, I joined Zwan with Billy. Everyone in APC was in another band, and I feared what I was going to do while everyone else was working and I didn’t have anything. Billy called me and asked if I wanted to jam. When I showed up, I had my ’96 Fender Active P-Bass, and Billy looked at me and said, “That’s not your bass.” At that point that was the greatest instrument I had ever had. I told him it was, and he goes, “Hmmm, but did you buy that bass?” I told him that actually Billy Howerdel had gotten it for me. Billy [Corgan] told me he didn’t think it was me. I didn’t know what he meant by that, but he asked me to go to all of the stores in Chicago and see if anything strikes me. I took it very seriously, and I would ask for all the vintage Precisions they had. I didn’t want to know any prices, because sometimes that will mess up your idea of how good something sounds. Just because something is expensive doesn’t mean it sounds good. This bass really stood out, and unfortunately, I have expensive taste [laughs]. They told me it was a 1970 bass, and five years later my friend who is a luthier took it apart and we found out it was from 1965. I’m just beyond in love with it. 

What are the biggest things you’ve learned about tracking bass from wearing the producer’s hat? 

Don’t worry about bringing in a big amp; you can get a great sound going direct. The right instrument will influence your playing. Some people feel like they can make a piece-of-shit bass sound great, but that’s not impressive to me. What’s impressive is what that instrument can do to you. And one of the other most important things is the tempo. Once we learn a song, we have a tendency to play it faster and faster and faster. When you get better at playing something, you can do it faster and it feels slow. But when you listen back to a record, the tempo that is natural is what you played in the beginning. That metronome [pulse] is really hard to maintain, because you always want to spice it up. Lean on how the song was initially written. 

I’ve always been the youngest and greenest person in every band I’m in, and for once it feels nice to pass some of my information to people who are inspired by the path I’ve been on.

You assembled your own band in Mexico. Why didn’t you enlist your established musician friends and collaborators to play this material? 

Getting to the point that I got, I felt independent. In a weird way I feared that when I got around the people I looked up to that I would lose that independent feeling. I wanted to keep my bubble and keep it feeling fresh and new. I’ve always been the youngest and greenest person in every band I’m in, and for once it feels nice to pass some of my information to people who are inspired by the path I’ve been on. It keeps the fire going. These musicians are rippers, and it’s so refreshing to be around young, hungry energy that I relate to. I can’t wait to go on the road with my band, but I’m getting all of my ducks in a row and I don’t want to get ahead of myself. 

Let’s talk about your split from the Pixies. There’s a lot of speculation online about what happened, but tell us exactly what went down. 

I recorded the entire album with them. I contributed ideas and vocals, and then, shortly after finishing, I found out I’d been replaced. It wasn’t handled directly, which made it hard for me to process. If I hadn’t gone to the rehearsal I was meant to attend, I might never have seen them again. Ariel Pink picked me up and insisted I face them and collect my bass and wardrobe myself. I walked in, said my quiet goodbye, and that was that. I had no idea the Hollywood Bowl (September 17th, 2023) show would be my last with the band.

Was it entirely unexpected? 

I had sensed tension for a while, mostly around equality. I wasn’t paid or treated as an equal, and that imbalance takes a toll. I gave everything to them and just wanted fairness — equality, not more. It’s a form of respect for the work and dedication. Looking back, maybe that created friction, but it came from wanting to be valued.

I got the email on my 50th birthday. It ended with “It is what it is.” Later, the announcement went out in a way that wasn’t accurate, which fueled rumors. I chose to stay quiet and focus on a graceful exit. The best way to process it was through music.

Had it grown turbulent?

There was pressure, but I ignored it and kept things professional. I wasn’t going to quit — I loved my job. Eventually, they made their decision. It’s unfortunate they couldn’t communicate it face-to-face.

That must have been extremely difficult, after spending a decade of your life with that band.

It was painful, especially not having sat down together to discuss something that meant so much to me — my job. I believed we were family, but I learned it was more business than family. That realization was tough, but it cleared the way for something new.

How did you handle it when you first found out?

I got the email on my 50th birthday. It ended with “It is what it is.” Later, the announcement went out in a way that wasn’t accurate, which fueled rumors. I chose to stay quiet and focus on a graceful exit. The best way to process it was through music — which not only gave me peace of mind but also my first album. I’m pretty proud of the production.

When did you start feeling happy and optimistic again after departing the Pixies? 

The pandemic oddly helped. It reminded me that life can change overnight and gave me the tools to accept what happened. It helped me embrace uncertainty, take things as they come, and just roll with the punches.

It sounds like your relationship with the bass, after a lifetime of playing it, is now reinvigorated. 

Absolutely. On this album, I started almost every song on piano first, then added bass. Making this record rekindled my love for the instrument. It reminded me why I fell in love with it and brought the joy back into making music. Music, to me, is the answer to all healing, and I’m so thankful to understand its power.

Hear Her On Triste, Paz Lenchantin [2025]

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