Aly & AJ Michalka on New Album, Dream Venue & Reinventing Their Sound – The Hollywood Reporter

When Aly and AJ Michalka headlined the Greek Theatre for the first time in September, it was a moment tinged with nostalgia and ripe with promise for the next phase of their careers. The venue was the site of the very first concert the L.A. natives attended (LeAnn Rimes in 2004) and has long been a holy grail of sorts. The sisters played folksy Americana songs from their newest album, With Love From — a blend of Kacey Musgraves, Haim and Carly Rae Jepsen — and updated versions of hits from their teen years for an audience that felt, to them, like a perfect microcosm of the fandom they’ve been building slowly and steadily. “When we started out, all our fans were kids, and now we’ve built this community of adults who have been with us from the beginning and people who don’t even know we had a phase before this album,” says Aly, 34.

Aly & AJ broke onto the scene in the mid aughts, signing their first record deal at the ages of 15 and 13 respectively, finding the sort of fame highly specific to that era: they toured with The Cheetah Girls, regularly featured on the Disney Channel, and played at the White House (“I just wish it had been the Obama era,” notes Aly with a mournful chuckle). But atypical to the era is the fact that they made it through child stardom emotionally unscathed. They chalk some of that up to a separation of church and state, as it were: They employed a music manager and a theatrical manager from the get-go, never relying on their parents (who were not in the industry) to be anything more than their parents. “Our mom was a stay-at-home more, so she was always there on set with us, but our parents were never in the weeds of the business and never on the payroll,” says AJ, 32, noting that they still have her added to their shared work calendar so she can feel included in this part of their lives. “I’m sure she knows we’re at this interview right now.”

They also credit the decade-long hiatus that followed. The two pursued individual acting projects — AJ was a series regular on ABC sitcom The Goldbergs, Aly had roles in everything from Easy A to The Good Doctor  — but eventually they felt the pull to make music together again. “I have regrets about not touring all those years because I’m sure we’d be further ahead of the rooms we’re playing now, but we wouldn’t have found our current sound otherwise,” says Aly. “And it saved us, in terms of our own sanity and our friendship.” Adds AJ: “And you wouldn’t have met your husband. It was all part of the journey.”

In this new iteration, obvious age-related maturation aside, they feel their personal changes coming through in every aspect of the work. They play tour with a band but also play their own instruments onstage (mostly electric and acoustic guitar, though Aly makes fine work of several tambourine segments), they lean into their shared Laurel Canyon neighborhood for aesthetic inspiration, they write lyrics rooted in “truth-telling” that they also credit for their large LGBTQ following: “I think people connect with us trying to be our authentic selves.”

In 2022, they survived a Sacramento, California, mass shooting — their tour bus was caught in the crossfire of an attack that left 6 dead — and they now dedicate a segment of their tour to advocating for gun reform, plastering an Everytown text-donation number across the stage’s screens and raffling off a meet-and-greet session for those who donate on the spot. “We realized we have this incredible platform to garner the audience’s attention, so taking four minutes out of a show to talk directly to them felt really important,” says AJ. “Putting up a sign or something didn’t feel like enough.”

As they prepare for the release of their holiday EP Lonesome Dove on November 14 (and a return to the studio for their next album), they feel their own sense of empowerment growing. The past year has shown them the tougher realities of touring: Covid outbreaks that cause cancellation can cost tens of thousands of dollars, meager pay for serving as an opening act barely allows a band to break even (they recently did a supporting stint for friend Ben Platt as a way to get into larger venues), and longstanding rules about venue contracts (like taking a cut of merch sales as a pay-for-play) greatly restrict revenue. They spent time on the SAG-AFTRA picket lines, fighting for a greater share of streaming revenue and protections from AI — issues that are also plaguing the music industry, which they say can sometimes feel like it’s designed to keep people out. “In this business, you need manpower to get to the next place in your career, but you can’t afford the manpower until a certain point,” says AJ. Adds Aly: “The film and television industry has been pushing for change, and it’s starting to feel like music needs to keep up.”

But in the meantime, they’re grateful they’ve continued to touch a chord — literally — with audiences, and are already looking to 2024, when they’ll get back into the studio to record another album that will delve further into their new soulful, SoCal soft rock sound. “We’re both Aries, so we don’t sit back at all — that could be disastrous, but it works for us,” Says AJ. Adds Aly with a laugh “At least so far.”

This story first appeared in the Nov. 8 issue of The Hollywood Reporter magazine. Click here to subscribe.

When Aly and AJ Michalka headlined the Greek Theatre for the first time in September, it was a moment tinged with nostalgia and ripe with promise for the next phase of their careers. The venue was the site of the very first concert the L.A. natives attended (LeAnn Rimes in 2004) and has long been a holy grail of sorts. The sisters played folksy Americana songs from their newest album, With Love From — a blend of Kacey Musgraves, Haim and Carly Rae Jepsen — and updated versions of hits from their teen years for an audience that felt, to them, like a perfect microcosm of the fandom they’ve been building slowly and steadily. “When we started out, all our fans were kids, and now we’ve built this community of adults who have been with us from the beginning and people who don’t even know we had a phase before this album,” says Aly, 34.

Aly & AJ broke onto the scene in the mid aughts, signing their first record deal at the ages of 15 and 13 respectively, finding the sort of fame highly specific to that era: they toured with The Cheetah Girls, regularly featured on the Disney Channel, and played at the White House (“I just wish it had been the Obama era,” notes Aly with a mournful chuckle). But atypical to the era is the fact that they made it through child stardom emotionally unscathed. They chalk some of that up to a separation of church and state, as it were: They employed a music manager and a theatrical manager from the get-go, never relying on their parents (who were not in the industry) to be anything more than their parents. “Our mom was a stay-at-home more, so she was always there on set with us, but our parents were never in the weeds of the business and never on the payroll,” says AJ, 32, noting that they still have her added to their shared work calendar so she can feel included in this part of their lives. “I’m sure she knows we’re at this interview right now.”

They also credit the decade-long hiatus that followed. The two pursued individual acting projects — AJ was a series regular on ABC sitcom The Goldbergs, Aly had roles in everything from Easy A to The Good Doctor  — but eventually they felt the pull to make music together again. “I have regrets about not touring all those years because I’m sure we’d be further ahead of the rooms we’re playing now, but we wouldn’t have found our current sound otherwise,” says Aly. “And it saved us, in terms of our own sanity and our friendship.” Adds AJ: “And you wouldn’t have met your husband. It was all part of the journey.”

In this new iteration, obvious age-related maturation aside, they feel their personal changes coming through in every aspect of the work. They play tour with a band but also play their own instruments onstage (mostly electric and acoustic guitar, though Aly makes fine work of several tambourine segments), they lean into their shared Laurel Canyon neighborhood for aesthetic inspiration, they write lyrics rooted in “truth-telling” that they also credit for their large LGBTQ following: “I think people connect with us trying to be our authentic selves.”

In 2022, they survived a Sacramento, California, mass shooting — their tour bus was caught in the crossfire of an attack that left 6 dead — and they now dedicate a segment of their tour to advocating for gun reform, plastering an Everytown text-donation number across the stage’s screens and raffling off a meet-and-greet session for those who donate on the spot. “We realized we have this incredible platform to garner the audience’s attention, so taking four minutes out of a show to talk directly to them felt really important,” says AJ. “Putting up a sign or something didn’t feel like enough.”

As they prepare for the release of their holiday EP Lonesome Dove on November 14 (and a return to the studio for their next album), they feel their own sense of empowerment growing. The past year has shown them the tougher realities of touring: Covid outbreaks that cause cancellation can cost tens of thousands of dollars, meager pay for serving as an opening act barely allows a band to break even (they recently did a supporting stint for friend Ben Platt as a way to get into larger venues), and longstanding rules about venue contracts (like taking a cut of merch sales as a pay-for-play) greatly restrict revenue. They spent time on the SAG-AFTRA picket lines, fighting for a greater share of streaming revenue and protections from AI — issues that are also plaguing the music industry, which they say can sometimes feel like it’s designed to keep people out. “In this business, you need manpower to get to the next place in your career, but you can’t afford the manpower until a certain point,” says AJ. Adds Aly: “The film and television industry has been pushing for change, and it’s starting to feel like music needs to keep up.”

But in the meantime, they’re grateful they’ve continued to touch a chord — literally — with audiences, and are already looking to 2024, when they’ll get back into the studio to record another album that will delve further into their new soulful, SoCal soft rock sound. “We’re both Aries, so we don’t sit back at all — that could be disastrous, but it works for us,” Says AJ. Adds Aly with a laugh “At least so far.”

This story first appeared in the Nov. 8 issue of The Hollywood Reporter magazine. Click here to subscribe.