Emerging from Portland’s fertile Experimental underground, National Diet returns with “The King in Yellow,” a work that blurs the boundaries between Progressive Rock, Art Rock, and Gothic conceptualism. The album’s creative axis shifts decisively around the piano, a conscious move by Jake Rose—the project’s core mind—to explore a more introspective and theatrical sound world. Inspired by the unsettling symbolism of Robert W. Chambers, filtered through the psychological dissection of Lovecraft, Bret Easton Ellis, and Fight Club, the record translates personal turmoil into allegory—its tension and fragility channelled through dense arrangements and a cast of remarkable collaborators, including Thymme Jones (Cheer-Accident), Ben Spees (The Mercury Tree), Nicole McCabe, and Ellie Dick. With its shifting moods, polymorphic structures, and literary depth, “The King in Yellow” positions National Diet at the crossroads of emotional catharsis and avant-garde exploration. We sat down with Jake Rose to delve into the creative architecture of this striking release, and to discuss how the Portland scene continues to nurture its unique brand of boundary-defying Progressive Rock.
Jake, let’s start from the beginning: what led you to build this new album primarily around the piano instead of the guitar, and how did that decision change your compositional process?
I’m primarily a guitarist but started playing the keyboard about 10 years ago when I began to study music in college. I’m still not a great player and am not super confident, but the visual aspect of it lends itself to composition in a way guitar doesn’t. I think of myself as more of a composer than a musician and there are periods where I just don’t enjoy playing musical instruments or just certain instruments. I was fresh from a breakup of a 4.5 year relationship in which we were engaged and had a wedding date and just had a low energy, depressed mood which suited the piano more.
“The King in Yellow” is a title loaded with symbolism. How did Chambers’ world—and the themes of madness, identity, and decay—mirror your own emotional state during the writing phase?
I took a Gothic literature class in college and read The King in Yellow and actually wrote a short instrumental piece based on “In the Court of the Dragon” from that collection. I kind of forgot about the book and then when I was writing this new batch of songs the title of the book randomly came up somewhere and I was just like, “Ooh, yeah, that’s something I need to revisit.” So I got the book again and it became almost like a guide or structure for what I was working on. As far as influences from the book, I had the music written for “Carcossa” and the lyrics weren’t really coming to me, and I just opened the book and there was the poem from 1895 written there and the song was done, it just worked with no edits. That song is linked to “I am the Owl” in that it references the cosmology of Chambers and later Lovecraft and Chthulu/Hastur/The King in Yellow. Now that the album is completed I see each track as kind of a shard of a broken mirror reflecting my personality, each incomplete and distorted and emphasizing a flaw that was swollen by my fragile state of mind.
You’ve described the album as a way to process a personal breakup through allegory. How did this emotional core shape the balance between abstraction and vulnerability in your lyrics?
I often use symbolism or abstraction in lyrics to shield myself from revealing too much and being too vulnerable and I’m definitely not the only songwriter who does this. If I say “This is a concept album about Gothic literature themes” then I’m not really giving away what is really coming from the first person, what is just a story, what is a literature reference, etc. I strive to make art that is like a mystery to be solved or something to be debated, something people will keep coming back to because it’s a puzzle. That’s the hope at least.
Each track feels like a chapter in a psychological narrative. Was there a conceptual structure behind the sequence—from “Nobody” to “The Audit”—or did it evolve organically during production?
I mostly have a kind of mystical process when it comes to making art where I don’t know where it’s taking me. I’ve only recently started a new album where I have a story written out at the beginning and have to fill in the gaps. For this one, I started writing songs, I rediscovered the book, and I was just writing about the feelings I was experiencing and they sort of formed what you could perceive as a narrative. Interestingly, I only realized after it was done that the songs were written roughly in the order they are on the album. “Nobody” is the track that is the most blatantly honest, if I’m not giving too much away, and the production is bare. This is the prelude, Alice before she goes down the rabbithole kind of moment. The end of “The Audit” is the moment of catharsis where the narrator is out of the woods and can learn from and process his experiences and move on.
The instrumentation across the record is incredibly diverse: Wurlitzer, vibraphone, Optigan, and vintage synths coexist with cello and saxophone. How did you manage to integrate such contrasting timbres into a cohesive soundscape?
One of the concepts of National Diet as a band, along with my previous band Rainbow Face, has always been one of ‘maximalist’ rock. Which isn’t to say there aren’t dynamics, which there are plenty, but I studied composition and orchestration and arrangement so to me layering instruments just sounds better, especially when you don’t have the luxury of thousands to spend at high end recording studios. For the first album The Noon Hour and the more layered songs on this album, we average 50+ tracks a session. I’ve always liked the sound of Pet Sounds and the Phil Spector sound. We consider ourselves prog and my favorite albums by Gentle Giant, Vander Graff Generator, Yes, King Crimson have strings and woodwinds and all sorts of instruments on them so I try to do what I can. I knew “Winning” needed a cello solo so that wasn’t up for debate. Certain songs I just know need certain instruments, some I’m more flexible on.
“Angle Game” and “The Audit” stand out for their extended structures and dynamic arcs. Can you walk us through how these longer compositions took shape and what you wanted to achieve sonically?
Sometimes the songs I write just start out as vague ideas in my head. I literally just had the idea that I wanted to call a song “The Audit” that was a kind of Joy Division type thing with a really long intro before the vocals that faded into a renaissance classical guitar part in the middle with an Extra Life type vocal part and then comes back around and finishes in an ABA structure. So I had this idea, then went to the guitar and started writing. Then I started writing it and knew I wanted to have a bunch of vocal layers at the end and that was a challenge to get right in the DAW. The main riff of “Angle Game” I wrote at an open jam when I was on stage and trying to mess with the drummer who only wanted to play in 4/4 time. That song was also influenced by a song called “Boy Racers” by Squid that has a really cool ambient ending led by a massive sounding synth. I thought I wanted to do that but have the song come back with the drums, ABA structure again.
You’ve collaborated with some truly distinctive voices — Thymme Jones and Ben Spees among them. How did their involvement influence the narrative or texture of the songs they appear on?
Ben’s contribution literally changed the song! He recorded the vocals himself and sent me back a main track plus harmony which he wrote and he also added an additional track of a hiccuping, looping vocal line of his own creation. The pristine production and effects on his vocals really elevated the song, not to mention his great performance. I asked him some time before I started recording if he’d sing on one of my songs and he was all for it. I wanted a different voice on that track and it’s kind of a call and response with “Winning” being the call. “Winning” is the narrator going on about a person who’s an object of infatuation and obsession and “Patterns of Behavior” is told from the other person’s point of view, a more rational and sane and also compassionate voice. I had met Thymme when Rainbow Face played with Cheer-Accident a few years ago. I thought his voice would be great for the song, I was looking for a Robert Wyatt-esque performance. His performance really went beyond already high expectations. I feel he elevated the song to an even more mystical realm. The song “Carcossa” is already about a city on another planet maybe in another galaxy or universe and the lyrics are eerie and otherworldly and listening to Thymme’s vocals, you really feel transported.
The inclusion of classical instruments like cello and saxophone adds both elegance and tension. How do you approach the orchestration process when blending Rock instrumentation with these timbres?
I think with these songs it was easier than on the first record because with the sax and cello solos I thinned out the texture so that those instruments really stood out. On the first album there’s a song called “The Queen” that features viola and it’s used in a Mahavishnu way where it’s part of the wall of sound with the keys and guitar and you might not notice there’s a viola in there, but it sounds awesome as part of the wall. I studied writing for sax and cello in college so the parts were all written out and my players are thankful that I’m familiar with their instruments.
There’s a strong cinematic quality to the album — almost like a soundtrack to an unmade film. Do you consciously think in visual or narrative terms when composing?
I didn’t think consciously about a narrative for this album, beyond the first song being an introduction and the last a conclusion. I don’t really think visually in artistic terms. Before I started playing music I spent a lot of time on visual art and thought I might focus on that, but that has been lost for the most part. I have studied film composing though and did a film score that was completed in 2023 so that may have had an influence. I do enjoy reusing motifs that change along with the characters or represent ideas and that will be a big part of my next album.
From a production standpoint, “The King in Yellow” sounds meticulously layered. How did the collaboration with Colin Doherty as co-producer and mastering engineer shape the final result?
Colin is my good friend and has produced the last four albums I’ve been a part of, back to the first Rainbow Face in 2020. For the last National Diet album he did a lot of the mixing and for this one I wanted to take some of that burden off his shoulders and also learn mixing so I could work more autonomously. So I would send him mixes and he would send his feedback until we felt like it was ready to come to his place and try mastering. He has a lot of great gear at Quartertone Studios so we could hear if things were coming together through his setup and monitors. It was a great learning experience for me and Colin enjoys the process because he gets to experiment and try new techniques and I can be a guinea pig for his new gear.
Portland has long been a hub for Experimental and Progressive sounds, from Cheer-Accident’s kindred scene to bands like The Mercury Tree. How do you perceive the local creative ecosystem today?
Since high school I’ve had the idea of starting a prog rock band but it sounded too intimidating. The Mercury Tree was the band that made me think that it was possible and that I could do it. So I started Rainbow Face around 2015 and I was thrilled when we got booked to play a show with them in 2019 and that’s how I met my drummer Connor Reilly. They to me are still so top-tier and I bow down before them! I feel more like an elder statesman in Portland now which is kind of cool and I’m trying to do what I can to help nurture the scene. There are many amazing prog and math leaning groups here, to name a few Mouthbreather, U SCO, Sea Moss, Career Move, Stinkbug, Library Studies, The Vardaman Ensemble, Rhododendron, Motrik, Blesst Chest, Childspeak, and Pain Soda. Each of those groups is completely different from the next but all amazing. Portland used to be much more affordable and that fostered more creativity but we each just have to work a little harder now to keep doing our art and putting it out there in the world and we’re still here.
Many listeners have compared your work to Extra Life or Cheer-Accident, yet National Diet has a distinct voice. How do you position your project within this lineage of Avant-Progressive Music?
I was working on the music for the second song, “Winning?”, when I discovered Extra Life and it was a revelation. I had actually seen them live when I was pretty young but I guess I wasn’t ready for it yet. They just released their comeback album Secular Works Vol. 2 and Connor mentioned them and they quickly became one of my favorite bands. This will probably be my most Extra Life influenced album because of that timing. Charlie Looker’s other band Psalm Zero also made a big impression on me, especially the song “White Psyche” which strongly influenced “Space Monkey”. I listened to that song a little obsessively and thought it might be the perfect song, a parallel to the fictional play The King in Yellow. I’ve seen Cheer-Accident multiple times and they’re just one of the best bands in the world and should be more well-known. Probably what stands out to me the most is their playfulness and anything-goes attitude. My band is still pretty new and I don’t think we deserve to be mentioned in the same breath as these two juggernauts, but I enjoy the flattery!
The lyrics often touch on duality, inner conflict, and the fragmentation of self. Were you influenced by any specific writers or philosophers when constructing these layers of meaning?
The theme of duality in Gothic literature is what I feel is the main theme of the album. I was in this relationship for almost five years and living with this person for three and I got out of it wondering if I knew who I was. Was I a different person because of this other person, did I change myself from my true personality? Is a person worth loving if they aren’t even their authentic self? There was another novella that stuck with me called “The Turn of the Screw” by Henry James about a rich widower and his kids who get this great new governess that is almost like Mary Poppins, but then like 100 pages in you follow her up to her room and she takes off her wig and her fake face and he’s she’s this evil old hag that might be plotting against the family. That kind of idea and the story of American Psycho, which is really another Gothic novel, became the basis for “Angle Game”. This kind of idea that you can be another person internally versus what you show the world and even internally you might not really have an idea of who you are and how that can lead to mental instability.
Given the album’s emotional intensity, how do you translate such complex and intimate material into a live context? Do your performances reimagine the songs or stay close to the recorded form?
Trying to deliver the emotional intensity of the songs is important and that’s one of the reasons I’m personally against click tracks and things like that live. Everything we play is completely live, I feel personally like there’s some pathos or emotion that is lost for me if I have to focus on a metronome in my ear. There’s a song like “The Audit” that has like five vocal tracks at the end and I could automate that but instead I sing the lead, James our bassist sings the second part, and I have a sampler pedal that has one of the vocal lines loaded up so there is like another voice, but sometimes it’s a little off the tempo.
This record also marks the first time you’ve worked with a consistent band lineup. How has that stability affected your sense of identity as a collective, rather than a solo vision?
When writing a song, I’m not concerned if the songs can be played live. For the new album I’m working on, there will almost certainly be songs that will be impossible to play live. But it’s been great having a full live band. It’s been great adding Colin to the live band because now that we’re a four piece with another guitarist/synth player we can get more of the layered sound that’s on the albums. There’s almost always layered guitar and synth going on so we can get a closer approximation. Sometimes live I’ll play a guitar solo where there was a sax solo or something and we’ll have to compromise. So I’m still writing songs the same way as before I had the more permanent lineup. I don’t like to think about any limitations like a band lineup. Luckily my band can play basically anything I write. For this record, I still play all the guitar and synth and James recorded his bass after the drums, but the next record will have a different approach. I’m planning to learn the songs with the full band and then be able to record drums and bass together and also have Colin record his own parts. This will make the rhythm section tighter on record and will streamline the process and add more delegation.
Looking ahead, you mentioned that Colin Doherty will handle guitars on the next album. Is there already a conceptual or stylistic direction forming for what comes next?
I’d like to have Colin learn the songs and then record his own parts this time and there will be a more diversity of style and performance. He also owns a lot of great guitars and amps. I’ll still play my own guitar parts. The writing on the next album is close to being done and I’ve been working on demos. As I alluded to before, it’s a concept album with a story. The story was inspired by the first song I wrote after the writing for King in Yellow was completed. I wrote the story out and have been using that as a guide for my lyrics. I’ll write some music and think, which part of the story would this work for? It’s centered around a UFO/UAP encounter and that world of the paranormal, cover-ups, unsolved mysteries, etc. which I’ve been fascinated with since I was a kid. It also leans heavily on music and culture that I loved as a kid and teen in the 90s.
Finally, if you had to summarize “The King in Yellow” in a single image or emotion — one that captures its essence — what would it be, and why?
I would say there is a tension or anxiousness that presides over the whole thing. I think it’s a little unsettling. It’s not relaxed. I’ve always written music as an expression of negative feelings for the most part. Depression, anger, frustration, feeling despair and hopelessness. That’s the main reason I make music, it’s a form of therapy. I’ve had girlfriends ask why I never write a song about them. That would be a bad thing. So I had a lot of those feelings that thankfully I was able to process and turn into songs. I do feel that beginning to turn a bit with the next album though, as the songs are a little less personal, based on a story, and some are a little more joyful. But still a lot of dark stuff too, so not to worry.
With “The King in Yellow,” National Diet crafts a rich and unsettling musical tapestry — where Chamber textures collide with Avant-Prog structures, and emotional disarray becomes compositional clarity. It’s a work that defies categorization while remaining profoundly human, echoing the restless creative pulse that defines Portland’s underground. As the project evolves toward its next phase, one thing is certain: Jake Rose and his collaborators have built a language that thrives in ambiguity — where intellect and instinct, structure and chaos, coexist in perfect dissonance.
Purchase “The King In Yellow” here: https://nationaldiet.bandcamp.com/album/the-king-in-yellow