74 new york | march 16–29, 2020
Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go?, in their
parents’ Southern California home. The
album netted billions of streams and
almost as many Grammys and cemented
Eilish as a generation-defining pop act.
So when the duo tackled the particular
cultural institution of the James Bond
theme, they again sought intimate set-
tings. The result is “No Time to Die,” a big,
big ballad. For all her outward signifiers
of Gen-Z genre clash, Eilish proves herself
to be a throwback powerhouse vocalist on
the track.
She’ll need that power, too. Not long
after the song came out, concerns about
the coronavirus prompted the producers
of No Time to Die to delay the film’s
release until November. (It was originally
set to open worldwide in April.) That
means that Eilish’s track will be out there,
by itself, for months, a theme song to a
movie nobody can see just yet.
As she explains the process behind the
song, Eilish is sitting on a couch in a clois-
tered London hotel penthouse. (Before
gaining access to the correct exclusive
elevator, I was checked by three separate,
stiffly smiling members of the staff.) She
is flanked by the endearingly polite
Finneas and the endearingly excitable
Hans Zimmer, 62, the iconic soundtrack
composer (Thelma & Louise, Inception,
the Dark Knight trilogy) who wrote the
film’s score and added string orchestra-
tion to “No Time to Die.” She is in Bur-
berry to the headband.
Her brother picks up the story: They
were on tour this past October, some-
where in Texas, right before a show.
Dallas? Houston? He can’t quite recall.
They were on a parked tour bus in the
lower levels of an echoey arena. If you
isolate the vocals, Finneas says, “you can
hear a lot of, like, vacuums in the back-
ground.” With the kind of year they’re
having, it was the only place they could
carve out the time to work.
“We’d been telling our team for years
that we want to do something with Bond,”
says Eilish. It’s funny to think about an
18-year-old wanting anything “for years”;
it’ s especially surprising to hear this par-
ticular young ingénue say she was drawn
to a tradition-bound franchise. But Eil-
ish’s aesthetics have always been a bit
more subversive than her music.
As No Time to Die was still being shot,
the duo met with Bond producer Barbara
Broccoli after a show in Dublin. Broccoli
had flown out specifically for the occa-
sion; she was quickly charmed. They were
given parts of the script and went about
the business of creating a theme.
Finneas had originally tried to com-pose it on guitar, but, Eilish says diplo-
matically, “it ... did not work. And we
actually had pretty bad writer’s block.”
Then Finneas ditched his guitar and
located a piano in the green room of that
anonymous Texas arena and played a lit-
tle riff. “It’s the first thing you hear in the
song,” Eilish says. “Immediately we were
like, ‘Ohhhh.’ It just suddenly made sense.
And then we wrote the rest.”
From there, it went off for approval to
Zimmer in L.A., who had already been
offered a small suite of options from sev-
eral artists. “I’m not going to say who” the
other acts were, Zimmer says, “but I am
going to get myself into loads of trouble,
and I don’t care: I couldn’t get past the
intro” of the other tracks. But when heheard Eilish and Finneas’s offering, he
knew it was the one: “That’s the vibe.
That’s the everything. It’s a perfect movie
song: In its quietness, somehow, you have
a huge landscape in front of you.”
The trio eventually convened in per-
son for a few days of recording with a
70- person orchestra at George Martin’s
air Studios in London, now housed in a
gorgeous, acoustically pristine Victo-
rian-era church.
“We experimented around,” says
Zimmer.
“We experimented for a while,” Eilish
says.
“We experimented with 70 people,”
Zimmer says, laughing.
“My favorite moment of the whole
weekend that we spent in London with
Hans was Billie and Hans playing a duet
together on the piano, improvisationally,during the setup of air Studios,” Finneas
says. “Microphones were being moved
around. Sheet music was being shuffled.”
Throughout the day of our interview,
Eilish has shown an occasional weari-
ness with the pressures of the job. At
one point, a photographer asks for a cer-
tain performative pose and she huffs
back, in full angsty teen glory: “Can we
just do normal stuff ?” At another, she
leans back on the couch with her phone
and rests her massive Gucci Flashtrek
sneakers on Finneas’s lap. (A dutiful big
brother, he doesn’t shove her feet off.)
Later, I ask her a question relating to a
conversation that’s been rolling on in
the room for a few minutes, about
whether they might ever collaborate
directly with movie directors the way
Zimmer does. She looks at me blankly,
then admits, “I—wasn’t listening for the
last five minutes.”
But when that anecdote about her and
Zimmer and the piano comes up, she
quickly pulls up the video on her phone
and gleefully shows it to the room: the
two of them, just playing random riffs.
“Isn’t that cute?! It just went on and on!,”
she says.
After strings were added to the track,
Zimmer made sure that Eilish and
Finneas got to see a full rough cut of the
film. That, in turn, led them to add one
last piece to the song: that swing Eilish
takes at the end, that big kick into “No
time to diiiyyyeeee.”
Zimmer: “It was after you saw the film. It
sort of allowed you to be let off the leash.”
Finneas: “Once we had a beautiful
orchestra beneath [us], Billie was
compelled—”
She cuts him off. “It had to go some-
where. I had to do it.”
The collaboration didn’t end there. As
Zimmer continued to work on the score,
he solicited their advice. He would send
pieces of music, then ask for input: vari-
ations, tweaks, suggestions. “I would
text Finneas, ‘Can I just get a little da-
da-da whatever?’ ”
“It’s been really fun,” says Eilish. “He’s
just like, ‘Can we get a little this?’ And we
immediately record and send it to him.”
“In a funny way, our styles are not that
dissimilar,” Zimmer continues. “You
record at home. I record four floors down
in my house” (i.e., in an apartment con-
verted into a makeshift studio in his
Santa Monica complex). “So the whole
score is homemade.”
Finneas nods. “I think wherever is
close enough to your bed so you’re tricked
into thinking it’s okay to stay up past your
bedtime is the right place to record.” ■The CULTURE PAGES“We recorded
the vocals in
a bunk in the
dark on
the bus in
a basement in
Texas. It was
pitch black.
No movement.
I was just,
literally,
holding a mic.”PHOTOGRAPHS BY: SYLVAIN GABOURY/PATRICK MCMULLAN AND JARED SISKIN/PATRICK MCMULLANADVANCED FORM ADTRANSMITTED
________ COPY ___ DD ___ AD ___ PD ___ EIC0620CR_bond_ jerry_toor_lay [Print]_36895176.indd 74 3/12/20 4:17 PM74 newyork| march16–29, 2020
FallAsleep,Where Do We Go?,intheir
parents’SouthernCalifornia home.The
albumnettedbillions of streamsand
almostasmany Grammys and cemented
Eilishasa generation-definingpopact.
Sowhentheduotackled the particular
culturalinstitutionof the JamesBond
theme,theyagainsought intimateset-
tings.Theresultis “No Time to Die,”a big,
bigballad.Forallher outwardsignifiers
ofGen-Zgenreclash,Eilish provesherself
tobea throwbackpowerhouse vocaliston
thetrack.
She’llneedthat power, too.Notlong
after the song came out, concernsabout
the coronavirus prompted the producers
of No Time to Die to delay thefilm’s
release until November. (It was originally
set to open worldwide in April.) That
means that Eilish’s track will be outthere,
by itself, for months, a themesongtoa
movie nobody can see just yet.
As she explains the process behindthe
song, Eilish is sitting on a couchina clois-
tered London hotel penthouse.(Before
gaining access to the correctexclusive
elevator, I was checked by threeseparate,
stiffly smiling members of the staff.)She
is flanked by the endearingly polite
Finneas and the endearinglyexcitable
Hans Zimmer, 62, the iconic soundtrack
composer (Thelma & Louise, Inception,
the Dark Knight trilogy) who wrotethe
film’s score and added string orchestra-
tion to “No Time to Die.” She isinBur-
berry to the headband.
Her brother picks up the story:They
were on tour this past October,some-
where in Texas, right beforea show.
Dallas? Houston? He can’t quiterecall.
They were on a parked tour businthe
lower levels of an echoey arena.Ifyou
isolate the vocals, Finneas says,“youcan
hear a lot of, like, vacuums in theback-
ground.” With the kind of yearthey’re
having, it was the only place they could
carve out the time to work.
“We’d been telling our teamforyears
that we want to do something withBond,”
says Eilish. It’s funny to thinkaboutan
18-year-old wanting anything “foryears”;
it’ s especially surprising to hearthispar-
ticular young ingénue say she wasdrawn
to a tradition-bound franchise.ButEil-
ish’s aesthetics have always beena bit
more subversive than her music.
As No Time to Die was still beingshot,
the duo met with Bond producerBarbara
Broccoli after a show in Dublin.Broccoli
had flown out specifically for theocca-
sion; she was quickly charmed. Theywere
given parts of the script and wentabout
the business of creating a theme.
Finneas had originally triedtocom-
pose it on guitar, but, Eilish saysdiplo-
matically, “it ... did not work.Andwe
actually had pretty bad writer’sblock.”
Then Finneas ditched his guitarand
located a piano in the green roomofthat
anonymous Texas arena and playeda lit-
tle riff. “It’s the first thing you hearinthe
song,” Eilish says. “Immediatelywewere
like, ‘Ohhhh.’ It just suddenly madesense.
And then we wrote the rest.”
From there, it went off for approvalto
Zimmer in L.A., who had alreadybeen
offered a small suite of options fromsev-
eralartists.“I’mnotgoingtosay who”the
other acts were, Zimmer says, “butI am
going to get myself into loads oftrouble,
and I don’t care: I couldn’t getpast the
intro” of the other tracks. ButwhenheheardEilishandFinneas’soffering,he
knewitwastheone:“That’sthevibe.
That’stheeverything.It’sa perfectmovie
song:Initsquietness,somehow, youhave
a hugelandscapeinfrontofyou.”
Thetrioeventuallyconvenedinper-
sonfora fewdaysofrecordingwitha
70-personorchestra at GeorgeMartin’s
airStudiosinLondon,nowhousedina
gorgeous,acousticallypristineVicto-
rian-erachurch.
“We experimented around,” says
Zimmer.
“Weexperimentedfora while,” Eilish
says.
“We experimented with 70people,”
Zimmer says, laughing.
“My favorite moment of the whole
weekend that we spent in Londonwith
Hans was Billie and Hans playinga duet
together on the piano, improvisationally,during the setup of air Studios,” Finneas
says. “Microphones were being moved
around. Sheet music was being shuffled.”
Throughout the day of our interview,
Eilish has shown an occasional weari-
ness with the pressures of the job. At
one point, a photographer asks for a cer-
tain performative pose and she huffs
back, in full angsty teen glory: “Can we
just do normal stuff ?” At another, she
leans back on the couch with her phone
and rests her massive Gucci Flashtrek
sneakers on Finneas’s lap. (A dutiful big
brother,hedoesn’t shoveherfeet off.)
Later, I ask her a question relating to a
conversation that’s been rolling on in
the room for a few minutes, about
whether they might ever collaborate
directly with movie directors the way
Zimmer does. She looks at me blankly,
then admits, “I—wasn’t listening for the
last five minutes.”
But when that anecdote about her and
Zimmer and the piano comes up, she
quickly pulls up the video on her phone
and gleefully shows it to the room: the
two of them, just playing random riffs.
“Isn’t that cute?! It just went on and on!,”
she says.
After strings were added to the track,
Zimmer made sure that Eilish and
Finneas got to see a full rough cut of the
film. That, in turn, led them to add one
last piece to the song: that swing Eilish
takes at the end, that big kick into “No
time to diiiyyyeeee.”
Zimmer: “It was after you saw the film. It
sort of allowed you to be let off theleash.”
Finneas: “Once we had a beautiful
orchestra beneath [us], Billie was
compelled—”
She cuts him off. “It had to go some-
where. I had to do it.”
The collaboration didn’t end there. As
Zimmer continued to work on the score,
he solicited their advice. He would send
pieces of music, then ask for input: vari-
ations, tweaks, suggestions. “I would
text Finneas, ‘Can I just get a little da-
da-da whatever?’ ”
“It’s been really fun,” says Eilish. “He’s
just like, ‘Can we get a little this?’And we
immediately record and send it to him.”
“In a funny way, our styles are not that
dissimilar,” Zimmer continues. “You
record at home. I record four floors down
in my house” (i.e., in an apartment con-
verted into a makeshift studio in his
Santa Monica complex). “So the whole
score is homemade.”
Finneas nods. “I think wherever is
close enough to your bed so you’re tricked
into thinking it’s okay to stay up past your
bedtime is the right place to record.” ■The CULTURE PAGES
“We recorded
the vocals in
a bunk in the
dark on
the bus in
a basement in
Texas. It was
pitch black.
No movement.
I was just,
literally,
holding a mic.”