For Patrick Madsen, the mind and person behind solo act Nesdam, music is more than a childhood curiosity, an album cycle, or even a career. It’s a way to capture a moment—and a lifetime—in lyric and melody. It’s something beyond any one of us. It’s sacred and powerful. And to make it is a great responsibility.
True to that spirit, Nesdam’s latest album isn’t just another release—it’s a statement. Blending raw emotion with deeply human experiences and a variety of sonic experimentations, Find the Truth captures an artist at his most vulnerable and ambitious. The record’s bursting at the seams with soaring melodies and powerhouse riffs. Every track is a testament to the artist’s evolution, shaped by personal loss, intense self-reflection, and an unrelenting drive to do it all creative justice.
In our conversation, Nesdam shares his philosophy on writing, performing, and what it means to allow the music to do its work on you as the artist. We discuss the making of the album, the producers and collaborators who helped bring his vision to life, and the unexpected influences that shaped its sound. Whether it’s experimenting in the studio or preparing for the stage, one thing is clear: this album is just the beginning of what we can expect to hear from Nesdam.
It’s good to meet you! I don’t know if your wife [Zahna] told you, but I used to play in a band that shared the stage with her back in her Ilia days.
Woah, really? Was it around the time me and her were touring, back when I was in Random Hero maybe?
Yeah, probably. I think it was the very end of her time with Ilia into her newer stuff.
That’s so rad.
Small world, eh? So, in the spirit of getting to know you as the other half of the musical power duo, let’s talk about the origins of Nesdam. How’d you first get into music?
Well, I was this sports player growing up, and I just loved sports so much, but I always remember my dad playing guitar and singing. So growing up, it was just natural to join and sing along or try to learn the chords on the guitar he was playing. I think that stuck with me more than anything.
My dad was always a song songwriter. He wrote hundreds of songs. At one point, he met this guy and they’re cutting a songwriting deal in Nashville, and I’m like, 13 at this time. It just blew my mind. Then, all of a sudden, I’m in Nashville, and I’m watching people make records and I’m in these studios you hear about, you know? Everyone knows what music is and how you make it, but when you’re actually there at 13, it’s a completely new world and when you watch your father being really good at the craft, it really inspired me in an unexpected way.
I realized I really love doing this and don’t want to stop.
When we get back from that trip, which is more like a father-son trip with music, I’m asking my dad to buy a drum set and I’m not really studying my playbook. I’m not really going to sports functions as much anymore, because I’m upstairs drumming to the newest Slipknot song.
So, that’s kind of the origin story. It became a love that I never knew I loved, basically, and that festered into me starting bands at an early age. Picking up the guitar was something I did my whole life, and now I’m on drums, and now I want to sing, and it just kind of morphed into a huge, huge ordeal.
And how about this project? How did Nesdam start?
It was kind of just a COVID project. I had just gotten out of a band called Random Hero, which I was in for six years. That wasn’t necessarily a nasty breakup, but it was still a breakup, and it was a nasty breakup with the label. So I was heated, sad, and I just wanted to prove that I was more than just the drummer.
Here I am off the top of this album that I was really proud of, that I helped write, and I didn’t really have anything to show for it because everything just came tumbling down. I really wanted to showcase myself as a frontman, as a songwriter, and more than anything, I wanted to write a record that no one could tell me ‘no’ on basically—I could just write it however I wanted. It felt so liberating. We were three songs in, and I was just like, “This is awesome.” I was loving the music, writing it exactly how I wanted. I fell in love with music all over again with this project.
Honestly, it was never supposed to make it this far. It was just meant to be something I released on Facebook for my friends. But years later, it kept going—people started liking it, I made more songs, and suddenly, there was a full-length album. Then one day, an icon calls you, and you’re just like, “No way.” It started from a place of manifesting and became an obsession. I realized I really love doing this and don’t want to stop. Plus, I still get to drum, since I also drum for my wife’s band. It’s like I get to share two identities, and I love that.
Speaking of, I was going to ask, what’s it like having both you and your wife pursuing your dreams in separate projects, but still working so closely?
We spend way more time together than the average couple or even the average bandmates. You have to learn how to work together, how to take losses, and how to fight well. But our love has been so strong since we met on tour that our music and bond always take priority over any stress.
The funny thing is, we love each other as a couple, but we also love writing together. She’s one of my favorite people to write with, and she loves what I bring to the table, too. A lot of people don’t know this, but I was heavily involved in writing her first record, Red For War, even though I didn’t have an ASCAP registration at the time. We’ve been writing songs together since we met, and that connection shows in every project and song we release. It’s a really special relationship, but it doesn’t come without its battles.
Yeah, I’m sure. So, let’s talk about your album. It’s called Find the Truth. Going a bit philosophical here—what does the truth mean to you? Or what truth have you been finding through this process?
I’ve been finding a lot of truths. The album felt like ten chapters of a guy living life, failing, but also redeeming himself. Every song represents different obstacles, but the one consistent theme is the need to find the truth—something deeper. The last song, “One Block Away,” is an exception. That one is a sentimental tribute to one of my music mentors who passed away. I lived one block away from him, so that song has a different personal weight. But overall, the album is about searching for something more.
With your lyrics carrying such emotional weight, was there a particular song on this album that was the hardest to write, either emotionally or creatively? It sounds like that last track held a lot of weight for you.
Yeah, definitely that one, but two songs stand out. “One Block Away” was tough because I wanted to make sure I said everything I needed to say. Music is forever, and I never wanted to listen back and think, “I should have written this differently.” I wanted it to be exactly what I’d say if Jason, who the song is about, was still here.
The second song is “Crawl,” which is where it all started. That song speaks about my attempted suicide in 2020. It’s a redemptive story. I felt like I was the problem, but then I woke up with a second chance and realized I needed to fix a lot of things. I was saved by grace, and that realization is what started this entire project. Those two songs are quintessential to the record.
Wow, that’s a powerful story. I’m really glad you made it, truly. So many don’t.
Oh my gosh, thank you so much.
How do you feel this album compares to your previous work? Were there any new approaches you took, either vocally, instrumentally, or production-wise?
This is the most unique and aggressive record I’ve written. I’ve done backup vocals for almost every band I’ve been in, but this is the first time I really showcased everything I can do. I feel like I have four different voices on this record—there’s a scream, a low register, a super high one, and a mid-range. I also found my voice in new ways during the recording process.
I was going to ask about that actually! I hear a few influences in your vocals in the new record. I hear a bit of Papa Roach in your more melodic tone, and I also hear The Color Morale in your screams. Who would you say are some of your biggest vocal influences?
That’s cool you caught that! Jacoby from Papa Roach is definitely up there. It’s funny because people always say I sound like him, but I never tried to—it just happened. He’s one of my favorite vocalists. Chris Cornell is another big one. I developed my high register by singing along to Audioslave. I’ve been trying to hit his notes all my life, but the way he does it with that rasp in his voice. And of course, Chester Bennington from Linkin Park. I really found my pitch scream singing along to his works growing up.
Ah, yeah. I can see that. This is a total side note, but speaking of Linkin Park, how do you feel about Emily Armstrong joining them?
I’m glad Linkin Park is continuing. A lot of legacy acts either stop completely or bring in a new singer, like Queen with Adam Lambert. Some bands need to keep going, and it’s tough because Chester was such a force and no matter who they picked, there was going to be resistance. You could have put any singer in that spot—even a favorite—and they would meet the same thing. But Emily is doing great, and the fact that they’re writing new material speaks to what Linkin Park always was.
I totally agree. I’m really passionate about the idea that as listeners, we can’t keep bands still for the sake of our own nostalgia. They’re human beings, and they’re artists, and they wrestle through their life through music. So, we have to let them grow and change. And you know, the bands who have lost bandmates, they need more than ever to be able to carry on and make music.
Exactly. One of my favorite bands is Shinedown. They’re a completely different band than they were at the start, and they were already successful in their original sound. But they evolved into something completely different, and that’s what makes them great. Bring Me the Horizon is another example. They never stopped evolving. And obviously that’s going to go horrible with some people, but the old songs are still there. The songs that we love from Linkin Park, they’re still there. That thing you love has never gone away, and now there’s just new stuff, so you can either discard the new material or jump on board—that’s the beauty of music. It always changes.
We figure out what this life is as we go, but the beautiful thing about music—especially when artists do stuff like this—is it documents a moment in time, and it’s recorded in a lyrical format.
Yeah, and I feel that way about not even just the sound, but sometimes, people as human beings, they just change. I think about how Underøath got a lot of resistance with their revival and evolution, and I don’t know, I just think, “Guys, they’re gonna be okay. They’re fine. Everyone, just relax. Let them be who they are.”
Yeah, it’s all a part of the journey. We’re all human, and we can only move forward. The second I snap my fingers, that moment becomes the past. We’re all just left to just learn new things. We figure out what this life is as we go, but the beautiful thing about music—especially when artists do stuff like this—is it documents a moment in time, and it’s recorded in a lyrical format. You can go see where that person’s at and then hear what they were singing in their early career, when they were more wrestling with such thoughts, and then you can meet them where they’re at now. What you see is the struggle of what it’s like to be human.
100%. I love it. So, speaking of all these great artists who have gone through these evolutions, who have been some of your songwriting influences throughout the years?
Man, you know, Cody Quistad from Wage War is at the top. If you look him up, your jaw will drop at how many songs he’s been a part of. He’s written for Falling in Reverse, A Day to Remember, and even some of my friends in The Protest. I get a lot of inspiration from him because he’s just Hook Central.
Another one is the king of the 90s, Rob Thomas. I always ask myself, “What would Rob Thomas do?” I’m unashamedly one of the biggest Matchbox Twenty fans. He’s just a songwriting champ and knows how to do it. Some people can wail on guitar or hit crazy notes, but writing consistently great songs like he does is an unspoken talent.
Creation is the best thing we can do as humans. We have the ability to create something out of thin air and then impact somebody’s brain with it forever. So when you get that chill and it’s impacting the writer, not the consumer, that’s the part I always look for in every song.
What is your favorite part about songwriting? Is it early stages, lyricism, instrumentals, or actually working with a producer? I know everyone is different, so which part of it resonates the most with you?
It’s a conglomerate of everything you mentioned, but the most important part is when you get chills. Whether I’m writing alone or in the studio with a producer, when I hit that moment where I get chills, I know it’s right. Every song on Find the Truth gave me chills at some point in the writing process. Creation is the best thing we can do as humans. We have the ability to create something out of thin air and then impact somebody’s brain with it forever. So when you get that chill and it’s impacting the writer, not the consumer, that’s the part I always look for in every song.
The music doing its work on you.
Yeah, it’s like, “How is this impacting me? Am I really believing what I’m singing in this booth?” When you’re tearing up because you want to hit notes in a certain way, and they happen to be in a high register, or maybe the lyrical content’s hitting you—the emotion really comes out in your voice.
Are there any moments that stood out for this album process that you can recall specifically feeling that?
Yeah, I can remember being watery-eyed, just feeling the emotion of the chorus in “Crawl,” which says, “Bleeding under shallow waterfalls, in your wonder, broken I shall crawl.” I just remember the weight behind that, and singing it, and executing that. I think it really came out in the vocal tracks.
Yeah. I personally think the right producer can make all the difference in those moments. What do you think? What do you need in a producer to achieve that?
Yeah, absolutely. I think the right producer changes everything. For this album, I worked with Cory [Brunnemann], someone I had never collaborated with before. My wife had worked with him, so she vouched for him. And when you go into a project like this, you’re looking for more than just technical skill. I’ve written with a lot of good producers, but not all of them are fun to work with. Some are dry, and while they deliver a solid product, the experience leaves a bitter taste.
With Cory, it felt different—like hanging out with a friend you play basketball with (which we did), except you’re also making some of your favorite music. It felt like the full package.
What really stood out was that he believed in me just as much as I believed in the project. He wasn’t just in it for a paycheck. He even gave me a deal on the record. He challenged me—pushing me to hit better notes, rethinking sections of songs—not just going through the motions, but genuinely invested in making the music the best it could be. That’s what I’d tell anyone looking for a producer: find someone who’s truly in it with you, not just for the money.
Absolutely. There are some really striking sonic textures on this album. Were there any unique production techniques or gear that played a big role in shaping its sound?
Yeah, for sure. We played around with synths a bit, especially on “Sad Soul,” which is the first track on the album. We pulled inspiration from this classic rock band called Head East—they had this killer synth part in one of their old songs that I always loved. I asked if we could bring that kind of sound back in a modern way, just in this one weird section, and it worked. It’s one of those ideas that could have been shot down immediately, but we tried it, heard it, and thought, “Yeah, let’s keep it.”
You also had a few guest spots on the record. Can you tell me about the process of collaborating with them?
Yeah, I got to work with some incredible artists. One of my favorites is Miggy [Sanchez] from the band Relent—he also plays with Ill Niño. We did a song called “The Dawn” together, track three on the album. It goes hard. We’d always talked about doing a song together. Back when we both lived in San Antonio, we hung out a lot—playing basketball, working out, just spending time together—so it felt natural to finally make it happen.
Then there’s “Dead to Me,” which features an insane guitar solo from Marco Pera. He plays with Disciple sometimes and also fronts his own band, Amongst the Giants. He’s one of the most incredible guitarists I know. When I needed a solo, he was the first person who came to mind. He sent it back, and it was perfect—just a nasty solo that really brought the track to life.
And of course, my wife is on the record, too. We’ve written so many songs together, so it just felt right. We did a song called “Joyride,” which is about our journey to where we are now. It connects back to your first question—how does a married couple make it work? That song tells part of that story.
Let’s talk XOVR. How have they been involved in this project and what’s that experience been like?
XOVR has been amazing. From the moment I got the news, it’s felt surreal—like a ‘pinch me’ moment. Working with Brian ‘Head’ Welch and David Williams, the co-founders of XOVR, has been incredible. They aren’t just about the business side—they genuinely believe in the artists they work with. Their marketing plans, their financial strategies—it’s all so well thought out. But more than that, they support you. When someone like Brian, who’s won GRAMMYs and played to sold-out crowds, is posting about your music because he truly believes in it, that’s huge. It’s validating. It pushes you to go even harder, to make the next project even better. In this industry, having people like that rooting for you makes all the difference.
How do you envision these songs translating to a live setting? Are there any tracks you’re especially excited (or nervous) to play in front of an audience?
I am drooling at the chance to get up there and perform these songs. I’ve been a frontman before, but usually tied to an instrument—playing acoustic, drumming for Zahna. But now, I’m just holding a mic, and it’s definitely going to be something I have to learn as I go, but I’ll tell you this: I’ve never done more cardio in my life to prepare.
Life is intense. Beauty is intense. And there’s a lot of beauty in this record’s intensity. If I had to pick one word to sum it up, that’s the one.
Ha, I feel that. Do you have any plans to take it out on the road?
Literally today, I’m waiting on a contract to finalize our debut show. What I can say is that it’ll be up north this summer, and it’s a big one. I’ve played it before, and the crowd is incredible. The crazy thing is, this is the last venue my father ever saw me perform at before he passed. So, this show is both a business milestone and a deeply personal, full-circle moment. I’m refreshing my email every hour, just waiting for that contract to come through. Once it’s signed, we’ll announce it the following week and get into full-on game-planning mode.
That’s so exciting—can’t wait to hear more about that. I’ve just got a few more questions for you. If you had to describe this album in one word, what would it be and why?
I would say intense. And I know that word can sound off-putting to some, but honestly, if you can be open-minded about it being intense, it’s not a bad thing. Life is intense. Beauty is intense. And there’s a lot of beauty in this record’s intensity. If I had to pick one word to sum it up, that’s the one.
Beyond the music, were there any unexpected influences on this record—maybe a book, a film, or even a personal experience that shaped the way you approached it?
Honestly, life itself was the biggest influence. Tragedies shaped a lot of it. While I was making this record, I lost my dad. I also had a service cat for a bit, and then one day she’s gone. So it was like, my best friends are no longer here, when I needed them the most. So really, it was external circumstances that led into getting more into the emotion of this record, being challenged within and forced to speak about things. Basically, getting out of my comfort zone was sparked by the external factors I was dealt with that led to creating such art.
Another influence was fasting. I did a 100-hour fast—no food, no water. That was profound. It forced me to be alone with my thoughts, without being distracted by social media, without being sedated by anything. It made me find the truth within myself to believe and sign off on everything that we were pressing on this record. I battled a lot with asking myself, “Do I stand by everything I’m saying on this record? Do I truly believe in it?” I really wanted to ask because I’m a second guesser, I think, and it was another external factor. It was a process of confirming, of making sure I was putting out something I could fully stand behind. It’s that ‘be careful what you ask for’ kind of thing.
One track, “The Hill,” has really resonated with people in that way, but that song is literally about me being in my own way. And how do you come to that realization? It’s going to take conviction, and personal soul searching. So, those factors were, more than anything, unique because they were curtailed to my life and they definitely bled into the emotion of this record.
With it being so personal, what do you want people to take away from this record?
That any story, whether it’s good or bad, is yours to tell, and how you tell is everything. You can tell your story in an impactful way that can help people, or you can tell it in a nihilistic way and take points from people. I chose to tell what I felt was true for my life, which is that in every one of these circumstances, I came out on the right end of them, or found a way out of them. I’m still breathing.
That’s what “Bulletproof” is about. I’ve been shot at, six times, and shouldn’t be here. But I am.
Woah, literally shot at?
Yeah, in Kentucky in 2009, with an assault rifle. It’s a crazy story, but I ran to an abandoned high school and slept there for a few days. So, I’ve been tested with a lot of things like that and I really wanted to tell the story right. So we thought, “Let’s start from the beginning, in ‘Crawl,’ when I almost ended it all. And then let’s go backwards and see how I got there.”
Those are the most intriguing plot lines to me—the ones that start at the end.
I think that’s what initially got to people’s ears because when you don’t set out and try to do something, there’s power in that. I didn’t set out to get signed with this. I didn’t plan to put a barcode on it to get registered sales. I just wanted to release it and say, “Hey, listen to my audiobook” essentially.
And then, in your mission, you stay true to what you love and that’s when things really happen.
With Find the Truth out, what’s next for you? Do you already have ideas for what’s coming after this release?
Oh yeah. These songs are a little bit older to me. You know, you write them, listen to them a few hundred times, and then they get mixed and you have to wait for the release. So for me, they’re still amazing and I love them, but I’m ready for the next one. I’ve learned a lot, I have new influences, new music, and I would love to stretch my legs into another full-length. I have a band now with some amazing musicians, and would love to get them involved because they bring a lot to the table.
I’m just excited for the future. I’d say, more than anything, my plans are to release another record after this cycle, do some good live shows, and just keep Nesdam going. From when it was a thought on my couch to now, it’s been nothing short of an amazing and fun ride. We just want to keep the wave going as long as it’ll go.
