Rainer Maria didn’t implode, explode, or burn out. They just sort of evaporated. A graceful indie rock ghost drifting off in 2006, leaving behind one of the most emotionally intense catalogs of the emo-adjacent late ’90s. And then, in true Rainer Maria fashion, they rematerialized not with a press blitz, a documentary, or a farewell-to-hiatus tour, but because—wait for it—they were all in the same zip code again.
“We all had dinner in Brooklyn,” Kaia Fischer recalls, “and I think it was actually the first time the three of us had been in the same room since our last show at Northsix.” This is how indie rock legends reunite in 2017: not with a bang, but a group text and a shared Google calendar.
For Caithlin De Marrais, Kaia Fischer, and William Kuehn, it wasn’t just about playing the hits. In fact, they didn’t even touch the old material until almost a year after regrouping. “It wasn’t until we booked a New Year’s Eve show that we said, ‘I guess we should play those old tunes,’” says Fischer. “Until then, it was just all new stuff. That’s what was exciting.”
They did sneak one relic in. Kuehn unearthed a dusty Minidisc from 2001 labeled “Rainer – January rehearsal,” pressed play, and found a half-forgotten riff that still slapped. “We thought it was really cool to have that be the final track on the album,” he says, like a guy who just found buried treasure in his storage unit.
As for whether this version of Rainer Maria feels like a continuation or a reboot, the answer is yes. “I don’t ever expect any band to sound the same,” De Marrais says. “But when the three of us get in a room, it still sounds like Rainer Maria.”
What’s changed is the world. They broke up before Twitter. Back when the closest thing to “streaming wars” was a CD burner versus a Winamp playlist. “Recontextualizing the band now is wild,” says Fischer. “But Polyvinyl’s still here. They’ve become this super successful label, and it’s kind of like we get to work with our old friends who are just better at their jobs now.”
Then there’s the part nobody talks about in band reunion lore: how it feels to be back at a time when many of the things they were once shouting into the void about are finally part of the mainstream conversation. Feminism. Identity. Power structures. “There’s definitely a sense of gratitude that the conversations are finally happening,” says De Marrais. “That they’ve shifted to the places they should be happening.”
Not that the band’s gotten too comfortable. “These lyrics are the most personal I’ve ever written,” De Marrais adds. “I tend to write lyrics with open-ended questions. And intention. But also a lot of negotiation.”
Maybe that’s why Rainer Maria still matters. It was always heady, heart-wrung music built on tension, and it turns out the tension hasn’t gone anywhere. If anything, they’ve sharpened it. And they’ve done it without pretending they're the same people who made Past Worn Searching in 1997.
“I don’t want to fuck it up,” De Marrais sings on the new album’s opening track. It's the most honest lyric to ever open a reunion record. And somehow, they didn’t.
Listen to the interview above and then check out "Lower Worlds" below!
