Nané's Ready to Bring "That Flamboyant Shit" to a Big Stage at ACL Fest

A match made in heaven ... well, some mutual friends, a few drunken college kickbacks, and a mutual obsession with music, at least. Singer Daniel Sahad hears voices in his head – transmissions of lyrics and emotion – and is constantly recording audio memos for guitarist/arranger Ian Green to synthesize and systemize. Resulting output, the irresistibly melodic, energetic, grooved-out rock project Nané, justifies their creative marriage.

“Complete with arguments and vacations,” jokes Green.

“Ice cream for breakfast on vacation, and I yell at him! He says, ‘It’s my fucking vacation,’” laughs Sahad, scrunching his face and mimicking his pal.

“But I clean. I clean a lot,” claps back Green.

For a crew whose discography only stretches back to 2019, they’ve built significant momentum, performing sold-out shows at Paramount Theatre and singing the national anthem for Austin FC fans. Now an album in and more on the way, they face their biggest arena yet – the ACL main stage.

“Part of the expanding of the venues, and the rooms, and the stages is we feel much more free to bring that flamboyant shit,” explains Green. “This is the correct setting for that, we’re able to crank everything up.”

Likewise, the group’s 2020 self-titled debut, engineered by Black Pumas maestro Adrian Quesada and produced by Grupo Fantasma/Brownout beatsman John Speice IV, gloriously captured Nané’s ornate style, littered with easy, tender intros and finished with punchy explosions of passion and pure, unadulterated rock. The highly streamed album, which includes contributions from bassist Scott McIntyre, keyboardist Marcell Coleman, drummer Jordan Espinoza, and bongo player Gustavo Hernandez, lays the groundwork for a new wave of modern nostalgia focused around the band’s deep-rooted family connections and life’s cherished refrains of love and the unknown.

“Always on My Mind,” about the need to exit an addictively toxic relationship, reigns as critic and crowd favorite for its self-reflective message masked by stimulating lyrics, Sahad’s rich falsetto, and the posse’s keen energy.

“The melody of it all came to me right before I was falling asleep. That’s something I do, try to write in that space between being awake and asleep,” offers Sahad. “That song proved to me that I was a musician. Music can come to you however you want it to. Being able to write that song revealed to me, ‘Oh, there’s music inside you that’s valuable.’”