Standing in the photo pit at Budweiser Gardens last August, you could practically smell the ozone and hairspray as Palaye Royale tore through a set opening for the high-priest royalty of shock rock, Rob Zombie and Marilyn Manson. It was a visceral, sweaty introduction for many in London, Ontario, but for the band, it was just another Tuesday in a relentless four-year marathon that saw them clocking over 700 shows. They are the hardest-working fashion-rock outfit in the business, oscillating between the gritty clubs of North America and sold-out rooms in Asia.
But then the world stopped.
The momentum of their upcoming record, *The Bastards*, hit a brick wall in the form of a global pandemic. While supporting the release in Europe, the trio—comprised of brothers Remington Leith, Sebastian Danzig and Emerson Barrett—had to yank the cord. It was a brutal pivot for a band that lives and breathes on the stage.
I caught up with vocalist Remington Leith as he paced his home in Los Angeles. He was restless, vibrating with the kind of nervous energy you only get when you’ve been forced off the road and into a cage. We talked about the new record, their curated aesthetic and what it is like to have your birthday during a lockdown.
The band occupies a strange space in the industry, often claimed by both sides of the border. "My older brother was born in Canada and then me and my little brother were born in Vegas. But we both have dual citizenship. So it’s kind of a little bit of both," Remington says, clarifying the lineage that makes them a staple of Canadian rock press.
And there are perks to that northern connection that go beyond just a passport. Remington notes the practical benefits with a laugh: "Yeah, exactly. Free health care, it’s always great."
The transition from the high-octane environment of a European tour to the sterile silence of quarantine was jarring. They were deep in the trenches when the borders started slamming shut.
"We were over in Europe traveling through Budapest when the whole thing happened. So we had to cancel the rest of our European tour and then our American tour. It was right in the middle of one of our biggest tours yet. So it’s kind of affected us in that way. But it’s good. I’m at home with my brothers, just writing music for the next record. So things could be worse, so I’m not too upset," Remington says.
But the actual exit from Europe sounded less like a standard tour cancellation and more like a scene from a dystopian thriller. The logistics of moving a rock band across international lines are difficult enough without the sudden appearance of biohazard protocols.
Remington describes the tension of those final nights: "It was getting pretty crazy whenever we would cross the border. And we’d crossed the borders from country to country in Europe because the show’s probably finished at 11:00 PM, 11:30 at night. And we would get on the bus around 1:00 AM in the morning. So when we’re traveling through the borders, it’s about 4:00 AM and so we’re all sleeping at this point in our bunks. Then we’re seeing all these people in hazmat suits coming on the bus, waking us up with a temperature gun, just checking if we have any fevers because if we did, they would’ve kept us at the border. So it was getting pretty crazy."
The decline was rapid. One day you are playing to a room of thousands, the next, the government is counting heads.
"Then just show after show kept getting cancelled because no live events over a thousand people, then it was over 500 people. Eventually the whole tour just got cancelled," he says.
Even personal milestones were swallowed by the lockdown. Remington celebrated a birthday recently, though it lacked the usual rockstar debauchery one might expect from a man who spends his life in leather trousers.
"It went well. I was just surrounded by my family and a couple of friends, but we all kept six feet apart. So it was definitely a stranger birthday that I’ve ever had," he says. When I offer my belated wishes, he remains optimistic. "Yeah, it was really fun. Thank you so much. Things could be a little bit worse."
We’ve been working on this one for about probably two, three years... I’m so proud of this piece of work, it’s definitely my favorite thing that we’ve ever done in our career. I have never been more excited for a piece of work.
The silver lining for a songwriter in isolation is, predictably, the output. While most of the world was busy baking sourdough, Palaye Royale was already looking past their current release.
"It’s the perfect time to write our next record. It won’t be coming out yet, but we’re already working on the next one. It’s a perfect time to start writing music, being creative and just appreciating the time at home," Remington says.
But the focus remains on *The Bastards*, which finally hit the shelves on May 29. It was a long road to get this specific collection of songs into the hands of the fans. The record was pieced together in the brief gaps between tour cycles, a process that can often lead to a disjointed sound, yet here it feels remarkably cohesive.
"Oh, I’m so excited. We’ve been working on this one for about probably two, three years. Just because we were on the road so much, whenever we went back home for maybe a month or two at a time. That’s when we would get the music done. So it’s been quite a process finishing this thing. I’m so proud of this piece of work, it’s definitely my favorite thing that we’ve ever done in our career. I’m so excited for it to finally come out and play the new music for all the fans. I have never been more excited for a piece of work," he says.
The album itself is a departure from the more straightforward garage-rock revivalism of their earlier work. It’s dense, occasionally over-produced in a way that serves the "art-rock" label they've been chasing.
"So the album came out May 29th. It’s called The Bastards. It’s our third record. It’s definitely our most honest record yet. We didn’t really hold anything back on it. I wouldn’t describe it just as a typical rock record because we didn’t really want to hold ourselves just to one genre on this record. So it’s a little bit of everything. It’s a little bit schizophrenic with the genres. I’m so proud because it all came from us," Remington explains.
And he isn't wrong about the "schizophrenic" nature of the sound. You can hear the ghosts of Britpop, the theatricality of emo and the stomp of 70s glam. Critics have struggled to pin them down, but Remington prefers the ambiguity.
"The best way to describe it is just Palaye Royale. I think that’s the only way to describe it. Because I’d never wanted to be held to one genre. And I feel like this whole point of art is to just create what you can. And it doesn’t really matter what genre comes out, but as long as it comes from you, it’s a party," he says.
There is a maturity in *The Bastards* that was missing from the *Boom Boom Room* era. It feels like the work of men who have actually seen the world rather than just dreamed about it from a bedroom in Vegas.
"For the Boom Boom Room albums because we wrote the songs when I was so young, 16, 17. And it’s funny because it just came out a year and a half or two years ago, when that record dropped. I feel like I’ve lived so much more. We never had life on the road, going through real life situations. We knew what the real world was, but when we wrote Boom Boom Room, it definitely felt like we’ve actually lived a little bit. So this is what The Bastards is," Remington says.
But you cannot talk about Palaye Royale without talking about the look. They are a visual feast of scarves, makeup and tailored jackets. It’s a calculated aesthetic that borrows heavily from the "theatre of rock" established by the icons of the 70s.
"Oh God, my mom always had The Rolling Stone videos on. And watching The Doors and Bowie, it was just incredible and I’ve always been a fan of that. Obviously music comes first, but I’ve always been a fan of the big productions, the over the top outfits and looks because it makes you more than just a band. I feel it makes you a little bit larger than life. And I’ve always loved that. It’s like your uniform, in a way," Remington says.
That visual commitment extends to the album art. The cover for *The Bastards* is a striking, high-fashion tableau that feels more like a Vogue editorial than a rock sleeve.
"We definitely had a lot of fun. The photo shoots especially because we’re obviously incorporating a lot of red and black into it. I can’t wait for the record to come out and show the world what we’ve been working on," he says.
And then there is the video for "The Little Bastard," which took a creative turn necessitated by the lockdown. Since they couldn't get a film crew into a room, they pivoted to animation, resulting in a clip that looks like a fever dream.
"It was definitely cool. Because obviously, during this time in quarantine and we can’t really go out and shoot a regular video. So we connected an animator friend of ours and we’ve worked on this and it came out perfect. Yeah, I love it. It’s definitely seeing yourself as a cartoon and it was definitely a bucket list for me. So happy about that," Remington says.
The band views their music videos as more than just promotional fodder. In an era where most artists settle for a lyric video or a low-budget performance clip, Palaye Royale is building a cinematic universe.
"When we were kids, we definitely wanted to take it further visually because we always wanted to create our own world in a way. I feel like this platform gave us the opportunity that not many people get. If we have an idea, we want to know that we can film something. Nothing’s really holding us back. So we jump into the creative side of things videos. We just try to create our own world in our music," he says.
To bridge the gap while touring is off the table, they have leaned into digital content. "Loneliness Palaye Royale" has become a lifeline for a fanbase that thrives on interaction.
"Since we’re not filming so much during quarantine, Bastards TV was definitely more of tour diaries, like a tour documentary. But what we’ve been doing lately is called Loneliness Palaye Royale. So it’s just been a live stream that we’ve been doing, every Saturday. Just to keep everybody a little bit entertained making music and telling weird jokes. It’s almost like a weird talk show," Remington explains.
Thinking back to that "Twins of Evil" tour in London, it’s clear that Remington hasn't lost his sense of wonder. Even after 700 shows, he still sounds like the kid in the bedroom when he talks about his tour mates.
"It was definitely crazy for me. Because growing up with Manson and Zombie just on MTV all the time and looking up to them as kids. They were just these untouchable superstars in my mind. And then getting that call saying, 'Hey, you guys are going on tour with Manson and Zombie.' I was like, 'Holy crap.' So it was definitely cool," he says.
The highlight, however, wasn't just the stage time, but the access to his idols. "And then, Manson and I would hang out most of the nights in his dressing room and just talk. I had to pinch myself a couple of times thinking, 'Oh my God. I’m just this kid born in Vegas who would just listen to this music in my bedroom. Now I’m here playing in these massive arenas with these people I’ve looked up to,'" Remington says.
The future is currently a series of question marks for the entire industry, but the Palaye Royale machine isn't slowing down. They are stockpiling content like it's ammunition.
"Obviously, our biggest thing is just putting out more music, more music videos, more content for people. And then, moving on when the world opens back up, hitting the road for the next couple years and entertaining people with live music. Because I feel like that’s the whole point of being in a band is to be with the people in person, being at those live shows. Obviously, we’re going to keep working on music and music videos and content for the people until then. But I’m just waiting to play on stage again, that’s my favorite part of this whole thing," Remington says.
And while the "Loneliness" streams are a fine temporary fix, the real Palaye Royale experience requires the heat of the crowd and the smell of the theatre. *The Bastards* is out now, but the real party starts when the doors finally open again.
