On February 2, Daniel Nigro may find himself among the elite group of producers known beyond pop-music stans and recording-studio nerds. That night he’ll be the favorite to take home the Grammy Award for Producer of the Year, Non-Classical, for overseeing Chappell Roan’s breakthrough album, The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess (on Island via Nigro’s Amusement Records imprint). Moreover, he could join Roan onstage if she wins for Album of the Year (he co-wrote 13 of the LP’s 14 songs) or for Record or Song of the Year (he’s a co-writer and producer of the post-LP smash “Good Luck, Babe!”).

Nigro was nominated for Producer of the Year once before, for co-writing and producing Olivia Rodrigo’s sophomore album, GUTS, and he won a Grammy in 2022 for helming her debut, SOUR.

Possessing a remarkable instinct for the pop-rock epiphany, a broad musical frame of reference and a semi-legendary attention to detail—not to mention an ineffable ability to see potential a less passionate music geek might miss—Nigro has become one of the most sought-after collaborators in the biz.

For the former singer turned songwriter-for-hire turned marquee-pop-girl whisperer, it’s been an unlikely road to a possible prime-time thank-you speech.

You were born in New York—Long Island, right?

I am a Long Islander through and through. I was born in North Massapequa, but my family moved to Massapequa Park when I was five. I went to college at Fordham University. Then, when I was 20, my band got signed. I dropped out of college and moved back home to try to make it work with the band.

That first band was As Tall as Lions?

When we were in high school our band was called SundaZe.

Three of you [Nigro, guitarist Saen Fitzgerald and drummer Cliff Sarcona] went on to form the core of As Tall as Lions in 2001. But in SundaZe, you didn’t start out as the guitarist.

In the beginning I was trying not to play guitar because I wanted to focus on being the lead singer. Or at least that was the collective decision of the band, that I was just going to focus on being the frontman. And then, when our auxiliary guitar player left, very soon after we started the band, I started playing guitar because it was easier than finding a new musician.

My favorite part of the As Tall as Lions story was that when you needed a keyboard player, you got someone who didn’t even play piano.

Well, maybe this is part of my origin story—seeing something someone else might not necessarily see. The keyboard player in the band had never played keyboard and the bass player had never played bass. That was the part of me trying to convince the other band members: “No, they’re talented. I can see the talent in them.” I could see that the guy who was our bass player, Julio, who was a guitar player by trade, just had such a feel that I said, “I bet if he plays bass, he’ll be amazing.” And that’s kind of how I felt about the keyboard player—it was his feel. His timing was so good when he played guitar, I said to the rest of the band, “If we teach him how to play piano, he’s going to be incredible.”

So that’s true, that he literally didn’t play piano?

Yes. I’d actually forgotten about that, but it is quite an important detail when you think about it.

I think it’s an important detail in the way you just framed it. It’s seeing things in people they may not see in themselves.

Actually, I was with a producer friend of mine the other night in Nashville, and he’s in kind of a similar position. He said, “It’s not about finding new talent; it’s about finding new people.” Because when we were in bands, we never had somebody to help us. After the failed attempts of bands, you start to realize that it was not necessarily your own talent that was at fault but maybe just not having the right mentorship, the right people around you to encourage you to be yourself and stick to your guns on things. And how when you have the wrong people around, how quickly those things can fall by the wayside simply due to someone not seeing the vision of the artist or not seeing the sparks of talent that should be nurtured.

Well, that happened to Chappell, right? The label didn’t know what to do with her.

I just thought she was incredible; I was so enamored of her talent, the way she thought about lyrics and melodies and the way we would weave in and out of songwriting. And even if I made just a little suggestion, how that could spark a completely different idea in her. It’s such a fun experience to work with someone who has that much raw creative energy.

But it wasn’t recognized by the business side.

No, I do think everybody recognized it. I'd imagine her old label [Atlantic] recognized it. But when the switch happened—when she decided she wanted to change styles—I think it frustrated a lot of people because it was a full reset of the world she was building. And it's pretty daunting for most people to realize, “Oh, we’re changing everything.”

You've said that growing up, you listened to a lot of Queen. It seems that Bohemian Rhapsody really affected Chappell. Did you talk about that with her?

I remember her coming in after seeing the movie and talking about how inspired she was by it. She probably didn’t know I was a big fan, too. It’s not something I wear on my sleeve as a producer. But when you find those connections, when you’re working with a creative person and you find common ground in places that maybe weren't expected, that’s really exciting. Queen is a great touchstone for us.

I’ve read your description of some of what you’ve done, creating songs that are not just one thing. They have an arc and a structure, and you can’t call them just a pop song or just a rock song. Like “Bohemian Rhapsody.”

Being able to put multiple ideas into one song is always exciting to me. I’ve always been inspired whenever I’ve heard songs where two or three minutes in, it just takes a left turn. And being entranced by a song for that long and suddenly having a gigantic mood shift is such a rewarding experience as a listener. Obviously, we don’t always get to do that. We write lots of songs that are really simple, and I love to write those, too. But when you do get those chances where the song presents itself as an opportunity to make that sort of big change, it’s always fun to try to crack that code of how to make it work.

I think of that as the “Stairway to Heaven” moment.

“Stairway to Heaven” is a great example. Or “Happiness Is a Warm Gun.”

Besides Queen, what music influenced you early on?

The pop side of my influences came from my dad. He had this massive vinyl collection in the basement. When I was five years old, I started going down there just to hold the record covers that looked interesting to me.

And I remember—it was the Madonna record with “Into the Groove” on it. When I think about my first experience of loving pop music, I just remember picking up that LP and somehow finding “Into the Groove.” My parents had videos of me as a five-year-old in the den putting that song on. That’s how I learned how to use the record player. I would just go to that song and keep putting it on. And I would dance around the room to “Into the Groove.”

When collaborations work, they’re magic, but sometimes they can be difficult. I’ve heard you talk about, for example, with Olivia, there were times when you didn’t see eye to eye, but you worked through it. How do you avoid a wall building up between you? What’s that process?

For me, it’s 100% about respect. It’s each person, Olivia for me and me for her, having respect for each other and knowing that in our hearts we both want the best thing for the song, that the end goal is the song. It’s not about ego. It’s not about whose idea is better. It’s in service of the song. A lot of times it’s just one conversation. Sometimes it’s three, or five. It’s listening to each other and deciding that if the other person feels so strongly about an idea, you go with it.

There’s a 20-year age gap between you and Olivia. Do you sometimes note a generational distinction between the two of you?

Yes, of course, I do note it. We’re both conscious of it. The generational divide is an important part of the relationship. It makes the music more holistic—and expansive—because we’re coming from different places and have different touchstones.

Are you learning from her as she is learning from you?

I can’t speak for her, but in terms of me learning from her, 100%. I feel like I’m always learning from her. Olivia is so smart and so thoughtful in all her decision-making. I feel like when I met Olivia, I became a better songwriter.

How do you see fame? Both as an upside for drawing further attention to the work but also the possible downside of the artist having difficulty with that level of success?

Yes, the upside is getting the music we’re creating to the greatest number of people. Being a champion for Chappell, the only thing I’ve ever wanted, just because I’m such a big fan of her music, is for more people to hear it, getting more people to listen to these songs and enjoy them. That’s the part of the fame I love: fame for the music.

What about for you, personally? What effect has a higher profile had on you?

One of the reasons I like being a producer is that I’m not someone who goes out and gets recognized at events. It’s nice to be in my position because I’ve always just wanted to be in the studio making music. It’s cool when people are inspired by what you do, but the objective is always just to make good music. I don’t spend time thinking about all the other things that come with it.

This is another thing I love about Olivia. Before SOUR, before “drivers license,” we were making music in my garage, and that was my favorite thing about making the second record with Olivia. Obviously, you’re afforded many luxuries when you’re successful—the label said, “You can make your record anywhere. You can do whatever you want"—but she said, “I just want to make it in Dan’s garage. We made magic in there. It's a really special place.” I feel the same way. No matter how many hits or how much success I’ve had, I just like going to my garage, which is 175 square feet covered wall-to-wall with synths and pianos. You can fit three people in there, max. None of the other stuff is important. It’s about going to that space and just making music. It’s just about the craft of making a great song.

Like I said before, that's what brings me the most reward: cracking the code of a great song. There's nothing more fulfilling than the feeling, especially after struggling with something for a long time—"Is that not right yet?" "No, it’s not right yet"—of that moment where you look at each other and say, “Wait, that feels special. Did we just do it? Did we crack the code?” That’s always what you’re fighting for. That’s the constant. I don’t want that to ever change for me.

Didn’t you go out and buy the perfect piano for Chappell’s “Kaleidoscope?”

Yes, I did. I remember when she wrote that song having this wave of emotion. She played it for me, at my piano. I made her play it again because I thought, “Am I hearing this right? Is it really that good?”

And now you have two pianos.

I now have two pianos. It’s funny; I’m in a studio right now in Nashville and I had them bring in the same Yamaha U3. It’s now the piano I have to use all the time.

We’ve got to break some news here: Tell me the exact date that Chappell’s second record will be released.

I wish! That would be great. But we have to make the record first.

There is that. What I really want to know about is the process.

One of the great things about Chappell is that she’s so in tune with herself that she knows when she makes a song she likes, and she knows when she makes a song she doesn’t. She does not waver on those things.

Let’s go back to where you began. You’re a New York guy. Olivia performed two songs with Billy Joel at Madison Square Garden. Were you there for that?

I was there for that. The craziest thing is that I'd never seen Billy Joel live before that night—someone I’d been wanting to see for so long. So many of his songs have touched me. Olivia and I have listened to “Piano Man” many times, just in the car, so to see her do that with him was surreal.

I brought my entire family with me that night. The sweetest thing was that just after she finished playing—Olivia also performed “Deja Vu” and “Uptown Girl”—she ran out into the audience to me and my family. She was so excited! She just gave me a big hug right there, while Billy was still onstage playing.

There have been a lot of pinch-me moments in my career. I feel so blessed to even say that sentence.

The last question is about the future. You formed a record label, Amusement, for Chappell’s music. What are your thoughts about the future of Amusement?

I’m trying to figure out what that is. I've been looking to find a new artist and expand Amusement. I’m hoping to find artists who inspire me to help them put out their music. I am always looking to be inspired again.

Photos (from top): Nigro with his ASCAP Songwriter of the Year award; performing with his band As Tall as Lions; with Chappell Roan at L.A.’s Grammy Museum; the Songwriters Hall of Fame's Joel Flatow, Donna Caseine and Barbara Cane, songwriter-producers Blake Slatkin, Theron Thomas, Nigro and Amy Allen, SHOF's Mary Jo Mennella and the Grammy Museum Foundation's Rita George; Roan and Nigro perform; with Rodrigo after the 2022 Grammys; LoyalT Management’s Rich Cohen, Giant Music’s Kaylie Jacobs and Matt LaMotte, artist Stephen Sanchez, Giant’s Nate Albert, Allen, Nigro, Giant’s Cecille Crisostomo and LoyalT’s Henry Brown at the world premiere of documentary The Beach Boys at Hollywood’s Chinese Theatre; Nigro collects his ASCAP trophy, flanked by Roan and ASCAP President (and legendary songwriter) Paul Williams; with Rodrigo and the Nigro family at Madison Square Garden