With ‘Patchwork,’ D.C. band Nah. opens a dialogue about mental illness

D.C.-based band Nah. is, from left, Chris Smith, Brendan Ra Tyler, Zack Be, Stephen Rodriguez and Emma Bleker. (Xavier Dussaq)

D.C.-based band Nah. had basically finished debut album “Patchwork” when singer Emma Bleker and bassist Brendan Ra Tyler had an idea for a new song.

The two went down to the basement practice space in the Falls Church house they share with drummer Stephen Rodriguez and started roughing out “Fractal,” a sparse, raw song that’s just Bleker on vocals and Tyler on bass. Because the basement doubles as Spaceship Sound Studio, they were able to quickly record the song after Rodriguez, who produced the album in that space, heard them working on it. “Fractal” ended up coming out as a single last week, ahead of Friday’s release of “Patchwork.”

“It’s one of my favorites on the album … so it was cool that we had that freedom to add that,” Bleker says. “Because we are all in that space all the time, we get to hear what the others are creating in the house.”

Tyler, 25, started Nah. in 2015 with Rodriguez, 26, whom he met at an open jam. Bleker, 23, joined two years ago, and the rest of the lineup — guitarist Chris Smith, 29, and keyboard player Zack Be, 27 — solidified in the past year.

Many of the songs on “Patchwork,” which the band will celebrate the release of at Pearl Street Warehouse on Friday, deal directly with mental health, something that’s drawn Tyler, Bleker and Rodriguez together.

“I started writing music to deal with my own mental health issues,” Tyler says. “I wasn’t planning on sharing it with anybody … but I started playing and people started hearing it and expressing that they connected with it. I think that’s the core of the band, in my eyes at least: really getting introspective and dealing with things that are going on in our brains.”

You can hear Bleker overtly grapple with her issues on the dreamy pop-rock song “Brainsick.” “It’s not a sad thing,” she says. “It’s an opportunity for connection. It’s an opportunity to be like, ‘Hey, all of us have this stuff going on and you shouldn’t feel bad talking about it.’ ”

The band’s members hope that by writing about these topics, they can help destigmatize discussions around mental health. (Fittingly, keyboardist Be is studying to be a therapist at the University of Maryland.)

“Making music is a deeply joyous place,” Bleker says. “Even if you’re talking about things that might evoke some sadness, or you’re talking about sadness, there is an inherent joyousness in letting go and being able to talk about it in a place that is joyful and accepting.”

The group has tried to cultivate an open space where everyone can be themselves, which comes across in Nah.’s sound, a mix of indie rock, dream pop, psych rock, punk and even funk.

“When Emma first joined the band, I remember her coming to us one time with something that she felt like wouldn’t fit,” Rodriguez says. “And we had a really intense conversation about how everything that [she does] would fit because that’s what we are.”

“We keep it open,” Tyler adds, “so that we can keep it honest.”

Pearl Street Warehouse, 33 Pearl St. SW; Fri., 8 p.m., $12.