On “Home,” the new remixed single from electro-pop duo White Night, there’s a chime-like synth pattern and haunting vocal loops that swell over a percussive drumbeat. It’s classic indie electronica—and in some ways, not a sound that most people would associate with Seattle. Yet, White Night’s singer and violist, Elizabeth Boardman grew up right here in the Emerald City—this is where her musical journey began, and upon deeper listening, you can hear it.
Boardman remembers her parents playing everything from Nirvana to opera around the house, and at just three, she says she “begged” to start piano lessons. “I remember, from a very early age, taking comfort in the distraction and creative wholeness felt in sitting at the piano and improvising your own little songs,” she says. “I started playing viola when I was eight and as soon as I was old enough to join the Seattle Youth Symphony orchestra program, I fell in love with the sweeping romance and drama of composers like Tchaikovsky and Sibelius.”
After completing Garfield High School, Boardman moved to London to study viola performance at the Trinity Laban Conservatoire of Music and Dance and then later completed her Masters of Music at the San Francisco Conservatory of Music. It was there Boardman met German-born Willi Leinen, a Classical Guitar student, and the two began dating and making music together.
“Both of us had composed a bit on our own and Willi had been in a couple bands, where as I had only dabbled a little in pop songwriting before we started working together,” said Boardman. “But we both had that creative itch that was a relief to scratch amidst the stiffness and stress of our classical studies.”
Initially, Boardman and Leinen were only able to collaborate virtually, sending musical ideas to each other over the internet, since Leinen had moved back to Berlin and Boardman was still in the San Francisco Bay Area.
“Our first songs were put together across the ocean,” said Boardman. “We had our first radio airtime on a German radio station, [and] we hadn’t even played the music in the same room together. We’d only done it long distance.”
Boardman then moved in with Leinen in Berlin, partly to be closer to a major epicenter for classical and electronic music, and to take advantage of the city’s affordable living and vibrant culture. Since, the two have continued to hone the alternative synth-pop of White Night, drawing both on the mood of the Pacific Northwest and the electronic scene in Berlin.
For instance, on the title track from their 2018 debut album, Golden Heart, there’s the sweeping drama of Pacific Northwest scenery adorned with cinematic textures, strings, and a music video featuring many shots from the San Juan Islands. Musically, the track could sit alongside the music of Pacific Northwest indie-folk artists like Damien Jurado, Fleet Foxes, and Noah Gundersen. Meanwhile, another single on Golden Heart, “Money,” has more distinct Euro-pop flavor. A techno dance beat underpins as Boardman speak-sings, “Fancy cars/fancy clothes/what is real/what is fake/Money makes it yours to take.”
This newly-released version of “Home” is the best of both worlds. Originally appearing on Golden Heart, remix duties were handled by their friend, German drummer Hanns Eisler, who goes by INGO. The intoxicating momentum and precision in production ties the track to the vibrant electronic music scene in Berlin. At the same time, there’s also a good dose of the raw authenticity and quirkiness of the Seattle indie folk sound; “Home” brings to mind Northwest-bred Benjamin Gibbard’s work in Postal Service, as well as ODESZA and Feist.
Lyrically, the song explores what “Home” is and there’s a moody tension that swells throughout the track—almost as if the singer is in two places at once. “The song is about the concept of one’s ‘home’ being a collection of memories and nostalgic feelings which are untainted by time. Relationships, individuals, environments and circumstances are constantly evolving, appearing, and disappearing as one goes through life. Home is what we hold still in our minds and in our hearts,” explains Boardman.
The release of this single marks a new period for White Night, who have toured much with Golden Heart throughout Germany and the West Coast of the U.S. since last year. Right now, they are looking forward to writing a new EP, continuing to teach classical music from their home studio in Berlin, and eventually, to getting back out on the road.
“We are very excited to keep songwriting and hone our genre and style before we plan any bigger tours,” said Boardman. “For now, we are back to the songwriting grind-stone!”
Follow White Night on Facebook for ongoing updates.
Singer-songwriter Leila Sunier just moved to Los Angeles from Colorado in September. The 23 year-old chose L.A. out of a relative familiarity—she once spent a summer interning at a music library in the area—but the change of scenery is also symbolic of her ambitions in music.
“You kind of transplant yourself [here] because you know there are so many creatives focused on their craft and they’re very serious about it and you know that you can hopefully meet people that are like-minded and collaborate with them,” said Sunier.
“Ghost” is the second single released in promotion of her forthcoming EP, If Only to Bleed Out The White Noise. The EP, which drops February 14th, has all the trimmings of indie folk—but with a little something extra. There’s the experimental elements of noise and metal, and the authentic heartache of country-blues and vintage jazz—and she comes by each influence honestly.
“I didn’t listen to contemporary music really until I was 13 [or] 14,” said Sunier. “I grew up in a household where we played a lot of old country. Johnny Cash, Patsy Cline, that was every Saturday. We played a lot of swing jazzers. Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin. And then on road-trips, my dad grew up as like a metalhead, so of course there’s like Aerosmith, those bands from the ’80s, and whatnot. [I had] a very diverse and eclectic background.”
Her debut EP is also driven by the loss and struggle inherent in coming of age, says Sunier. Within the last couple years, Sunier completed her music studies at University of Miami and ended a formative romantic relationship, and the latter is delicately chronicled on If Only to Bleed Out The White Noise. “Ghost” is particularly nostalgic for the initial stages of her romance, and of a life where possibilities were endless and spirits were as high as a kite on a windy day.
The simple video, premiering exclusively on Audiofemme, bolsters the mood of “Ghost.” Crafted by L.A.-based filmmakers Jessie Klearman and Vivian He, and co-starring actor Gibran Zahedi-Mitchell, the video follows two lovers as they frolic smilingly on a beach, soaked in the faded colors of an overcast Santa Monica day, to the tune of Sunier’s misty, almost-familiar melody.
“This song I wrote at the beginning stages of a relationship and I really took this idea of like, ghosting – when somebody just suddenly leaves, there’s no explanation, they’re just kind of gone,” she said. “But then there’s this other side of it. To this day I still think it’s really incredible – how do you get to know somebody? Their story, and their life kind of becomes invisibly intertwined with yours; it’s something that isn’t immediately perceived, you’re just starting to like, join energies or whatnot. That was really the whole crux, the concept. I was watching this relationship start and it was really exciting and new. And then it’s kind of funny, the phrase ‘ghost’ kind of popped up in other songs on the project because in the creation of this project I watched this relationship begin and then end.”
And “Ghost,” is the most optimistic track about this romance. In general, the painful end of this relationship—and the beginning of a new stage of life—gives Sunier’s debut EP a haunting, aching sort of quality. She contends with emptiness and confusion most of the way—the ghosts of what she’s lost in the process of loving and leaving this person. The hollowness is in the background on the first track, “Cut A Smile,” but only continues to grow in urgency as the EP goes on. By the final track, “Outro,” it’s in the foreground, and Sunier addresses the pain directly to herself and her listeners. “I’ve been living with ghosts of myself,” she sings.
“The project was almost called ‘Ghosts of Myself,'” she said. “But then it also really focused on this idea of noise. If Only to Bleed Out the White Noise is a lyric from the second to last song called ‘Young Thing,’ which is me reckoning with growing up and what that means. I think a lot of people my age generally, it’s like ‘Wow, I have to grow up.’”
Through the process of listening to the EP, the listener gets to grow up with Sunier. A certain hollowness is filled. In that way, If Only To Bleed Out The White Noise has the storytelling power of a concept album. After all, Sunier crafted it over a two-year period of her early twenties, a time universally known for its growing pains. With each song, Sunier’s understanding of herself and of her creative voice expand into an ever-widening horizon, and the magic here is how artfully she tells her own story and draws in her listener. By the end of this stunning journey, she’s found her voice—a lush, honest, and individual one at that.
Follow Leila Sunier on Facebook for ongoing updates.
Perusing his Instagram – culled images of internet fantasy, bubblegum pink hair, and over-exposed filters – you quickly learn that it’s more than a passing fad. Daniel is as authentic as they come, employing flashy, modern aesthetics as a means of understanding and establishing identity within a community. He’s a bold firestarter, and his debut EP, E-Boy, out today, speaks to his fearless predilection for usurping pop conventions.
The title track to his debut EP is a magnetic, glitchy, and addicting piece of pop music.“This is not a phase / This is not a trend / Welcome to my world / This is who I am,” he coos through a cotton candy haze. Through glossy immersion, mining the popular subculture of e-boys and e-girls, Daniel finds himself feeling alive and loved like never before.
In simple terms, e-boy and e-girl subculture comments on growing up in the internet age. “We all dress like we’re in the internet age, and we’re very relevant to what’s around us,” Daniel explains over a recent phone call. In his work, he combs the synthetic wonderland in both his music and socials – intertwining them both into an electronic fabric.
“I wanted to create a song around that,” he says of “E-Boy,” now paired with a bright, symbolic new visual. “People think I’m emo, and people think I’m always depressed – but it’s just that we’re e-boys and e-girls who live in this made-up fantasy world,” he continues. “It’s created by the internet and social media. They all come together, and it’s like a big family.”
“Catch me on your feed / I light up your screen,” he also observes, mixing a robotic maneuver with a smooth, silky tone. “When I pop up as an e-boy on your Instagram feed, the people’s faces are going to light up,” he says. “They’re going to see another e-boy or e-girl who is in that subculture living this life they kind of want to live. That little thing can strike happiness in someone, even if it is Kylie Jenner posting a picture. That could be the coolest thing they saw that day.”
The music video, premiering below, was directed by Sideways Studios and guides the viewer through “my days as an e-boy,” Daniel notes, “waking up, getting dressed, doing my social media. We have a lot of different visuals that you’d see on a computer screen projected onto me. It’s basically me looking at myself in the computer the whole time. I’m watching another e-boy doing his day-to-day life while I’m trying to be that e-boy.”
Daniel grew up in Maple, a small Toronto suburb. While downtown Toronto was only 40 minutes away, his hometown felt suffocating and secluded from city life. “When I was young, I loved my town, and now I hate it,” he says. “I feel like it’s really small, and people are more closed-minded there than in Toronto. I always felt more at home downtown with all different types of people. I could walk around the street wearing the craziest outfits and people don’t really look twice at it – if you get what I’m saying.”
His parents remained supportive, allowing him to dabble in musical theatre and dance. No creative expression was off limits. “Since I was younger, my parents always recorded clips of me dancing in our backyard. My dad did music when he was younger, and he plays tons of instruments. So, he was very much like, ‘If this is what you want to do, go ahead and do it.’”
Now 19 and calling Toronto home, Daniel finally comes into his own on E-Boy, a five-song feast of organic-based pop music. Where “Suburbia” aches with the pressures of small town living, “Sad Boy” strikes as a vengeful serpent. “I’m just a sad boy, a fucking sad boy,” he scowls.
Coming of age in the modern era comes with a heavy price. “Sad Boy” speaks to not only the constant race to ramp up one’s social numbers but a falling out with a former friend. “When I was younger, I always felt like an outcast. I never really fit into a certain group of friends. Throwing in social media on top of that, everyone is concerned about numbers,” he says with a sigh, “and if I have more followers than you, you can’t be with us. It’s just something we’re all worried about, and even though we say numbers don’t really matter, numbers do matter for a lot of kids and youth today.”
“Now you go around acting like you’re famous / I don’t want to come across like I’m interested,” he spits in the song. There is a smoldering anger tinted on his vocal, an intentional choice that day in the recording studio. “I had a really good friend, and we were friends all throughout high school. Basically, we were like brothers. He started doing social media stuff. We made a promise that we would never leave each other’s side, and we’d always help each other out,” he remembers. “So, whoever had more followers, we’d always post about each other. At the end of it, he blew up very quickly within a year and had millions of followers. He abandoned me and said, ‘Oh, you don’t have the level of success yet that I have. I can’t be friends anymore.’”
Such emotional pain pulses at the heart of Daniel’s new EP – produced by Andrew Polychronopulous and Brandon Pero. “When I was writing this EP, I was depressed and in a weird space in my mind. I found the best way to get through that was to add in real guitars to show a more raw side of the music. Then, the synth and computerized instruments were a way to show my anger.”
Daniel, who calls Youngblood, Sasha Sloan, Troy Sivan, and David Bowie his biggest influences, marries aggressive pop hooks with messages of self-love and redemption. “I was very conscious about how I looked in pictures. I always wanted to show this image that life was perfect and nothing was ever wrong,” he says of his journey. “Now, growing up doing this, as a career, I learned that people just want to see the real me. There’s nothing to hide anymore. I can look so ugly in a picture, but I can still post that because I was actually happy at that moment. It’s this battle that I’m still dealing with.”
On his Facebook page, Daniel vows to “break the barriers that the industry has put on male pop musicians, through my music and style.” He elaborates on what he means, saying, “When I’m doing music or performing, I love to bring an element of being feminine onstage. I feel like a lot of pop artists are scared or want to follow a certain form. I’m always thinking about how I can twist that around and make it my own. Like in my last show, I performed in heels. It was something I felt most powerful in. I always want to switch around the standards of what people think pop music is. For so long, I was so scared. I’ve never been the most masculine guy. I’m not ashamed now.”
That’s where Julian Daniel’s debut EP, E-Boy, comes in. It’s emotional, empowered, and raw. “I want everyone to know that being you is completely fine,” he offers. “You don’t have to hide yourself from people. There’s going to be other people who accept you and love you.”
In 2018, singer-songwriter Niki Black released her first single, “Not Coming Up,” a harmony-driven track about refusing to apologize for her feelings for another woman. Since then, she’s also gained attention for “Hallelujah,” which explores her loss of religious faith.
Her latest track, “The Other Man,” mixes beat-heavy R&B vibes with religiously inspired lyrics like “I’m a snake without my garden / out of heaven I have fallen into lust / it is too late for me / he’s all I believe.” Later this year, she plans to drop her first album, appropriately titled LILITH.
Hailing from LA, Black draws from the blues and American classics her Chicago-born father introduced her to as well as the Iranian pop tunes she learned from her mother.
We talked to Black about her newest song, her larger body of work, and her experience as a queer Iranian-American artist.
AF: What inspired you to call your album LILITH? Is there something in particular that draws you to that Biblical character?
NB: Lilith is a parable that I was definitely moved by immediately when I was told about her. The story of Lilith for me represents rejecting a feeling of inferiority that is imposed upon you externally and pursuing your own virtue. This is symbolic most obviously of her femininity, and I think she has been reclaimed as an inspiring figure for this age that is more in touch with femininity and rule-breaking when it comes to social conventions and power relations. I wanted to bring that spirit into my own world when putting this album together, and share that empowerment with others as well.
AF: What’s the story behind your new single “The Other Man”? There seems to be a theme under-riding your music, including this song, of falling out of grace with god — what inspired that?
NB: “The Other Man” goes back to the story of the Garden of Eden. Eve, who parallels Lilith to me, is fighting the desire to choose between temptation and new consciousness as represented by the serpent and the apple and a predictable, safe love with Adam. I wrote this song to explore the moral dilemmas of wanting someone else, especially from a woman’s point of view – which is also why I reversed the common trope of “The Other Woman” for this song. When Eve, or me, or whoever is listening relates to going for the other man, that is where I want to question what others would call falling out of grace or giving in to the temptation.
The inspiration in writing about these themes comes from these strict moral compasses that I think people can easily project on each other without understanding the feelings of others, which ultimately has resulted in an isolation from each other shrouded in judgements. I also think it is important to address these desires within yourself, which is why writing them helps me sort through these complicated feelings.
Photo by Matthew McReina
AF: What other themes are you exploring in LILITH?
NB: The album also relates to Dante Aligheri’s The Divine Comedy, which is the journey from hell through purgatory to salvation. I reversed this plot and, as you mentioned before, explore falling out of grace from others’ judgements and the world, and eventually coming to your own self-consciousness and personal salvation. Having a conscious mind and being loving to yourself while being subject to a host of judgements from society, religion, friends, and family that ultimately replace your own narratives is a very important theme to me in this album and in my own life. Another way to listen to the album is in the linear narrative of being in love with someone. You start off with the person so perfectly that you feel like you’re in Paradise, but then ultimately, the love changes so drastically that it feels like it was dragged to hell. Then, the album resolves in finding your own love for yourself again within those painful feelings.
AF: Your song “Not Coming Up” is really powerful — could you tell me about the experience that led you to write that?
NB: That song explores what I personally faced in experiencing that religion really can manipulate how people perceive the most beautiful emotion in the world – love. Particularly, I experienced this in queerness when a religious parent was extremely hateful and disapproving to a relationship I was in. The song essentially is approaching that in saying, “Alright, well, what if I don’t believe any of those thoughts of going to hell for loving, can I escape these judgements? If you say this is hellish behavior, but it feels like heaven, I might as well just enjoy it down here.”
AF: How does your Iranian heritage influence your music? How has it affected how you’re viewed and treated in this industry?
NB: It affects me in the way that I get super excited when I see Iranian artists having an impact– like Snoh Aalegra, or Sevdaliza. I would say that the Iranian heritage I have has given me a deep appreciation and connection to our mystic poetics like Rumi and Hafez. I also love the different tones and melodies that classical Iranian music uses, which I plan on incorporating into my music sonically even more on the next album.
AF: What are your next plans?
NB: I’m going to keep writing, releasing, and performing, of course. I’m trying to now meld a new story after releasing a song from Lilith every six weeks and ultimately the album at the end of it, with visuals as well. I just want to stay inspired!
Follow Niki Black on Facebook for ongoing updates.
Filled with vulnerability and raw emotion, Liz Longley reclaims her personal boundaries in her new song, “3 Crow.”
Through a song that blends Christina Perri-esque vocals with a calming effect akin to Lana Del Rey, Longley paints a melodic portrait capturing the pain she felt breaking ties with a toxic friend. In a phone interview with Audiofemme, Longley shares that she often discusses the stories behind her songs on stage during live shows, but this is one she’s kept close to the vest.
Instead, the song speaks for itself, touching vividly on Longley’s experiences: having to bring a friend home after an altercation at the titular bar she can no longer go to; the time she stood watching with “tears in my eyes” when the friend got pulled over; lines becoming blurred both literally and metaphorically. These memories feel especially poignant because they’re real – the song was written about someone who lived near East Nashville neighborhood and took advantage of her friendship – and over the course of a few tumultuous months, Longley began to realize that actions she initially thought were in her best interest were actually done for the other person’s gain.
“Writing the song was my way of processing being around someone who didn’t respect my boundaries emotionally or physically, and trying to process that and learn how to set my own boundaries so that I wouldn’t set myself up for them to be challenged or disrespected again,” she explains. “I was thinking about it kind of like being under the influence, but of a person. You think ‘I’m a strong, independent woman, I’m not going to get under the influence of a person or fall victim to another person.’ It was eye-opening to realize that it can be a very gradual decline in a situation and it can grow into a situation where you don’t feel safe and it can happen to anyone.”
Longley says she wrote “3 Crow” in a near “meditative” state where the words began pouring out one night after being near this person’s house, leading to an awakening about the uncomfortable situation she was in. “Just the sight of this person’s house triggered me writing this song,” she observes. Vulnerability is an integral aspect of “3 Crow,” particularly as she sings “Slept on your couch/I insisted/You grabbed my mouth/And tried to kiss it/I gave you aspirin/And I swallowed a few hard pills myself.” It’s in these words that Longley expresses a sense of defeat that eventually turns into triumph.
Following “that realization, that hard pill that I swallowed of taking responsibility for letting myself get into this situation and letting it get to this point and almost feeling the defeat and the shame in that,” Longley says she experienced “that turnaround point where I’m saying ‘I’m not going to stand for it anymore, this is not going to happen again.’”
Longley stands firm in her proclamation not to let the vicious cycle continue by repeating “any more” at song’s end. This repetition is symbolic of how she’s standing firm in her strength and refusing to allow this unwanted behavior to be a part of her life. “Sometimes the songs come before the realization of what’s going on… putting this down on paper and then stepping away, I started to realize a lot of the symbolism in it and what I had to learn from writing it,” she affirms.
The Nashville-based singer has since cut off contact with this person and has used therapy and other healing methods as a way to move forward from the experience she expects will “unravel” as time goes on. “3 Crow” is featured on her upcoming album, Funeral For My Past, and marks the first time in four years that she’s released new original music. She hopes that when listeners hear this song, they’ll feel a sense of safety and acceptance. “Each and every one of us deserves to be loved and respected and if you’re not, I just want people to know that they’re worth more and that there is a way out and there’s hope for them,” Longley shares. “I just hope that it resonates with them on the same level that it did for me when I was writing this song.”
“3 Crow” is available now. Funeral For My Pastis expected to be released this year. Follow Liz Longley on Facebook for ongoing updates.
Letitia VanSant creates a chilling effect with the opening line of her new song, “You Can’t Put My Fire Out:” “I didn’t run/I didn’t scream/I didn’t want to make a scene.”
The words came to her during a workshop when she was presented with the prompt, “How are you wounded?” It brought to mind her experience with sexual assault – she was raped by a former friend years prior, an experience she is sharing through song. “I think that question really opened the door for me,” VanSant says. Three years after she wrote down those striking lines, the rest of the song began to organically unfold as she watched Christine Blasey Ford courageously recount her story of sexual assault during the hearings for Brett Kavanaugh’s confirmation to Supreme Court in 2018. Premiering exclusively with Audiofemme, “You Can’t Put My Fire Out” was “one of those songs that forced its way out of me,” VanSant says, “and then I recognized the message that was coming out of it.”
VanSant shares that she initially kept the details of her sexual assault to herself, and is honest about the long-lasting impact it had on her life, subconsciously making her feel socially hesitant and “unwanted.” “People don’t realize sexual assault is not just the physical vibration, but it’s the mental impact that can live on for years,” she explains, adding that she’s since been on a journey of self-love. “I think that I’ve finally done enough of that that this song was able to recognize how much the experience had hurt me.”
Writing “You Can’t Put My Fire Out” has served as a healing process for VanSant, who reclaims her narrative in its potent lyrics: “Too long you’ve lived inside my mind/You paid no rent/You stole my time/Now I’m taking back what’s mine.” “I didn’t realize how much of the voices in my head that said bad things about me kind of came from this experience,” she continues. “It was sort of like recognizing that all of those voices saying hateful things towards myself, that’s not me. Those are the voices that I can kick out and that I can replace with more positive and much more powerful messages.”
One of those powerful messages is the title of the song, which VanSant admits she originally thought was “cheesy.” But as the lyrics began to tell her story in a meaningful way, she saw the title as a statement of self-confidence and conviction. “It’s more of a realization of a statement of something that’s true. It’s both a willful ‘I’m not going to let you’ but also ‘you actually can’t.’ People really can’t get at the core center of my being and my spirit. No matter what the world throws at me, the core of me is an unchanging and alive thing,” she says.
Through “You Can’t Put My Fire Out,” VanSant can use her story to connect with others who’ve experienced sexual assault. The singer says she’s had “powerful reactions” from women and men alike when she performs the song live, recalling a time when a group of college-aged men approached her after a show to discuss the song. “I think that this is the kind of song that can speak to anybody who’s been through a difficult experience. It’s for anybody who has someone in their past living in their head and needs to kick them out,” she says.
Growing up as white woman in an upper middle class family in Baltimore, VanSant is open about her intention to acknowledge the privileges and advantages she’s been given by society. She’s adamant about wanting to create space for people of color and those who are non-binary – and the question posed in the workshop reminded her that we all experience pain in our own way.
“As a person that occupies a position of a certain amount of privilege in our society, I think there is a place for self-doubt and for questioning. But I think that within that there is a place for growing a deep and centered kind of self-love. And the more we all grow that,” she expresses, “the better the world will be.”
“You Can’t Put My Fire Out” is included on VanSant’s new album Circadian, set for release on February 21.
Until three years ago, singer-songwriter Caitlin Sherman’s musical career in Seattle was always attached to one romantic partner or another. For seven years, she was married to local Seattle guitarist Jason Goesl, and for nine years the two performed together as Slow Skate. After the two divorced, Sherman met and began dating musician Hart Kingsbery, and they began western-psych outfit, Evening Bell. For four years, Evening Bell’s regional notoriety mounted; they filmed a Band in Seattle segment, played a KEXP in-studio, and were asked often to open for notable contemporaries, like Wanda Jackson. But when Sherman and Kingsbery’s romantic relationship came to an end in 2017, Evening Bell, and much of what they’d worked for, came to ashes with it.
Sherman calls losing her romantic partner and her band at the same time “devastating,” and joked that trying this method twice might be “the definition of insanity.” But, this last time, she didn’t stew for long. Even before Evening Bell had completely disbanded, Sherman went to Nashville for the annual Americana Festival, and the experience confirmed that she was a music “lifer.”
“[I realized] I have to figure out how to keep doing this—because the bands that I had and the relationships that I had didn’t work out—but this is what I do. I borrowed a guitar [in Nashville], and wrote [the song] ‘Death to the Damsel’ in pretty much one sitting.”
This song would become the title track to her first solo full-length, Death to the Damsel, due out February 14th, 2020 on the label Small Batch Records. Personnel, both on the album and live setting, include Jason Merculief on drums (J Tillman, Jesse Sykes & The Sweet Hereafter, Alela Diane, Sera Cahoone), Bill Patton on guitar (Fleet Foxes, J Tillman) and Jesse Harmonson on bass (Jaime Wyatt, The Crying Shame). Along with writing the songs, Sherman plays piano, guitar, and sings on the album.
“There was the strength to [“Death to the Damsel”], like ‘no more of that.’ I don’t want to say it’s a jab at myself, but it’s giving myself a good talking to,” Sherman said. “You were complicit in conforming to traditional roles that relationships entail and slowly lost [yourself] in it. Nope, we’re done with that.”
Death to the Damsel is a strong, what-we’ve-been-waiting-for kind of debut. Though Caitlin’s voice was undeniably a part of her previous collaborations, up front and out from behind her exes is where Sherman’s songwriting prowess shines.
Today’s single premiere, “Find Me A Fire,” is a perfect example of this album on a whole. Empowering and frankly personal, it makes peace with the difficult decision to leave her ex-husband, and with the painful life lessons we must learn (and sometimes relearn) until they stick. The song plays with the image of a house on fire—a nod to Sherman’s Sagittarius nature—and this Tennessee Williams quote she’s always loved: “We all live in a house on fire, no fire department to call; no way out, just the upstairs window to look out of while the fire burns the house down with us trapped, locked in it.”
Lyrically, Sherman challenges the conclusions of the quote in the song, determined in finding a way out and rebuilding. A calming, almost-familiar piano-driven progression pushes the song forward, resulting in a highly-listenable anthem of self-empowerment. “It all kind of came together as I think just that kind of feeling of ‘Okay, I’m going to be the one to pull the rip cord,’” Sherman said. “This kind of solution-oriented [feeling], like ‘No, I’m going to find a way to get out of it.’”
She’s out of that house now, and now there’s a different kind of fire burning under Sherman. Though she admits it’s scarier to write and perform under her own name, she also admits it means she’s finally getting her due. People have continued to ask her to open for them, sans the rest of Evening Bell, and those who’ve heard the early tracks of Death to the Damsel have approached her with a new perspective on her talent.
“It’s a weird sort of compliment, but so many people who knew Evening Bell [and have heard my new work] are saying, ‘I’m so sorry, I thought it was Hart the whole time,’” said Sherman. “It’s a programming thing—if a man and woman make music together [it’s assumed] he probably wrote the stuff. We both wrote.”
On Death to the Damsel, with her well-crafted songs and musical talent as the centerpiece, there’s no question she’s a formidable tour de force. The confidence and resilience that radiate throughout this deliciously tender debut mark an exciting new phase for Sherman—and her listeners.
Calling from a six-week writer’s residency in the small mountain town of Banff in Alberta, Canada, Lindsay Kay is feeling a creative high these days – while also enjoying a much-needed recharge. “This place is really fantastic. They literally cook all your food for you. You’re sort of living in a hotel, almost, so you don’t have to make your bed, even,” she says with a laugh. “It’s so wildly privileged… but it’s completely immersive. All you have to do is music. They fund you to come.”
Banff lies roughly 90 minutes away from Kay’s hometown of Calgary, and so, it feels a bit like a homecoming. She previously attended this same residency four years ago as she prepared her debut album, 2018’s For the Feminine, By the Feminine, an especially moving and timely collection centered on womanhood and the meaning of femininity. Every collaborator on the album, from producers to studio musicians, was a woman.
Now, she offers a glimpse into the great depths of her songcraft with her new EP, showcasing the same song in three different versions. “For D”/“I Had This Friend” is a study in songwriting, and each iteration is a puzzle piece to a much bigger story. “I was actually, funnily enough, at another artist residency when I first wrote this. I was in this really small town called Noyers-sur-Serein in Burgundy, a couple hours south of Paris. It was very different than here. It’s very small,” she recalls. “You’re sort of living in this tiny, medieval house. It was just me and one other woman in residence together – my dear friend [writer] Kelsey Donk. We were there for a couple of months working and writing. That was real seclusion.”
“I Had This Friend” moves from the rough cut of the original 2016 iPhone demo to something more visceral and tangible in the second demo to a finished product that marries creamy studio work with a still jagged presentation. While the final version remains unmastered, it still allows the listener to feel an emotional richness that drips from Kay’s voice and the steady heartbeat of guitar and piano.
“He worried all of the time / He’d never get any sleep / There was no time to be wasted / He had to earn his keep,” she sings. Her words paint faint, foggy images of a person who quickly, sorrowfully faded from her life. “In life, some people are there for a long time, and some people are there for a short time. This person was in my life for a shorter amount of time,” she offers with a palpable heaviness. “When I wrote this song in France, we were still dear friends and speaking pretty regularly. He was present in my life, and I felt inspired to write a song about him.”
“I cared about him very much, but I worried about him for all the reasons that I list in the song. He overworked himself. He sets too high expectations for himself. I felt I wanted to put that into words. Coming back to this song later, things had changed slightly. I was figuring out how to deal with that.”
Listen to AudioFemme’s exclusive stream of “For D” / “I Had a Friend” and get even more insight into Kay’s work below.
AF: What drew you back to the song three years later? How had things changed?
LK: I came back to the song this year. I was in Calgary visiting my family. I was thinking, “Okay, it’s time to start the process of writing new music and figuring out the next type of album that I want to make.” Sometimes, it’s a little bit easier to revisit old work as opposed to diving right into making something new. Writing songs is the hardest thing ever. [laughs] It’s so terrifying to have the blank page looking back at you. So, sometimes, it’s a softer landing to go back into the journals and the voice memos and see if there’s anything that can be mined from the past.
That’s what I was doing. I was going back and listening to a bunch of the music I wrote when I was in France and stuff I wrote that coincided with my last album that didn’t make the cut then. This song was one of those songs. It didn’t really fit in with the overarching theme of my last album, but I still felt the song had something special and sweet and nostalgic to it. I like the song.
In listening back to it, it’s interesting, of course. The first demo was in the present tense, and I thought to myself, “Do I have any sort of responsibility to keep the song the same to respect the way it was written the first time?” But it’s my song, so I can do whatever I want. There are no rules. So, I thought, “Well, we grew apart in a natural, normal way. Nothing dramatic or terrible about it, but how do I make this song true for right now?” The first thing I chose to do was put it into past tense, which took some finagling. It was interesting, because I had never done that before. I had never taken a present song and put it into the past. It was a cool thing to work on. I really enjoyed that process.
AF: How did the song feel to you then, emotionally?
LK: Honestly, I think it felt quite similar. I actually had a lot of the same feelings I had when I wrote it. It was just love and care for this person – despite the fact that I no longer speak to him very often. When I listened to the song, I was taken back to that feeling of care and concern. It made me think of our friendship fondly. I saw things slightly different, I suppose, which you can see in the lyric changes. It’s a little bit more critical view, perhaps, in the last version of the song. I had time to reflect on our relationship and our friendship. It still rang true in some way, at least.
AF: A month later, you recorded the final version. What did you want the song to evoke, musically?
LK: I wanted to record something very quickly, very messy, not too polished. I wasn’t initially planning on making an EP in this way. When I went into the studio, I just had access to studio time in Calgary. This was the song that was at the forefront of my practice and mind at the moment. I wanted to record it in the way I felt it was finished. After I had recorded the song, I was going back and listening to the different versions. Then, I had the idea, “Well, what if I put this all together with the iPhone demos and show the evolution?”
It all came together after. The song isn’t even mastered. It’s very barebones. It’s very live. I recorded everything completely live on the floor. I did the voice and guitar master take all together. It’s one good take. I quickly layered another guitar part on top and a bit of piano. That’s the whole song. It was literally a few hours in the studio. Sometimes, as artists, we get quite precious about our work, which I think is important – to want to refine and polish. It’s sometimes fun to let people into the more creative process as opposed to being really attached to perfection.
AF: Do you ever have trouble stopping yourself from tweaking and letting go of a song?
LK: Of course. For this project, it was almost an exercise in not doing that. I really actively did not do that with this. I was super lax on my technical expectations. It was almost an exercise in letting go of songs really, really fast. That was really helpful. With my last album, I had a lot of moments of wanting to continue to add more and tweak. It never really felt finished. But eventually, you have to learn to let go or have someone you trust by your side telling you when maybe it is time to let go. I had the same experience with music videos and editing them. There’s always more. There’s always something that can be added or removed or tweaked. It never is perfect. There’s an art in knowing when to let it be.
A page from Lindsay Kay’s lyric journal offers insight into how the song evolved over time.
AF: What lyric of this song sticks with you most?
LK: I’ve been trying to actively think about how to incorporate writing about intimacy and sexuality in my work that’s not draped in symbolism all the time. I was skirting around this lyric, but then, I put it in blatantly. The lyric is: “He told me that he had been having hot sex with a woman that he despised.” That lyric is just pretty clear. It’s not necessarily uber poetic or nuanced. It’s clear and to the point. That’s something I’m trying to explore more in my writing.
That lyric felt powerful to me when I wrote it, and I felt excited about having that in there. I also like the lyric: “When I’m away and missing LA, I think about the day we shared some fries, and I watched him cry.” Sometimes, it’s nice to put in weird little details. Sharing a plate of fries with someone is such a normal, friendly thing we all do.
AF: Do you have an idea where you’re headed next in your music?
LK: I’m at the very beginning of the process. I was just in Spain for the last, almost, three months. I’m going back and forth between Los Angeles and Barcelona at the moment. I was writing there quite a lot. I wrote maybe four or five new songs. Now, I’m here continuing to polish those and write more music. A full-on shape has not taken form yet. There’s no clear path as to when an album will come or what it will look like. Right now, I’m firmly in the creative writing process. I’m trying to protect that space as long as it feels good and can keep it.
In the midst of a tour supporting their sophomore breakout album 88 92, Houston indie band Wild Moccasins were breaking up. Founding members Zahira Gutierrez and Cody Swann had been romantically involved for nearly a decade at that point, and as the band’s lineup expanded and contracted, amassing fans along the way, they remained its constant core, despite the personal turmoil between them. It all became fodder for their 2018 LP on New West Records, Look Together, centered on the deterioration of their relationship and their determination to keep moving forward for the sake of the music.
That narrative, of course, made its way in to everything written about the project. But just over a year later, the band has returned with a fresh perspective on what they’ve been through, where they’re going next, and a new video for the LP’s lead single “Boyish Wave.” Referencing French New Wave films of the ’60s – or, more specifically, their trailers – like Louis Malle’s Elevator to the Gallows, Jean-Luc Godard’s Weekend and Breathless, Alain Resnais’ Last Year at Marienbad, Agnès Varda’s Cleo from 5 to 7, and the love triangle in François Truffaut’s Jules and Jim– the visual pokes fun at the drama that nearly destroyed them and officially caps off the album cycle as the band gears up for the next big thing.
“If you watch the trailers for all these films, they’re very dramatic, and they’re telling you what the film is about, but they’re also extremely ambiguous,” Gutierrez explains when we talk over the phone. “You’re just getting the best lines, seeing the most dramatic parts of whatever relationship is going on in the film.” This particular clip sees Gutierrez caught in a love triangle with Swann and Wild Moccasins drummer Avery Davis, following them through surreal scenes, subtitles and all. Seemingly taken out of context, the video is a trailer for a movie (or a relationship) that will never exist. “All of the most dramatic things you could say to to each other or do with each other when you’re going through a relationship are just kind of condensed into this like fake trailer,” Gutierrez says.
There’s no concrete timeline, narrative, or reality, which Swann says adds to the feeling of conflict. “But one thing we were trying to touch on,” he adds, “Is that when dating, you end up going to a lot of the same places with different people – your favorite restaurant, favorite place, favorite park. And a lot of times we live these mirrored moments, but we wanted to touch on the very positive aspect of how even something so familiar can be made completely new when you’re with the person you want to be with.”
The band plotted the “Boyish Wave” video shot for shot while on tour behind Look Together, releasing self-directed videos for “No Muse,” “Doe-Eyed Dancer,” and “Longtime Listener” with the same production team in the meantime. Swann says the band narrowed down the list of potential shots from around a hundred to about sixty, and that though it was extensively planned, they couldn’t account for all the “happy accidents.”
“A lot of that goes out the window whenever a shot doesn’t work out the way we thought it would, or sometimes a throwaway becomes the thing that everything hinges on,” Swann says. A perfect example is the still that became the video’s screen cap: Gutierrez points a prop gun at Swann from the opposite side of a picture frame he’s holding – Swann says he found the frame on the side of the road the day before the video shoot. It had such surprising visual impact, he says, “we had to arrange around it afterwards.”
The band remained heavily involved as the rest of the video came together. “Most cinematographers will not let you sit in through the editing process but we actually sat through the editing process from beginning to end and looked at every single scene and shot that we filmed and placed them carefully,” Gutierrez remembers. The subtitles were pulled from a notebook Swann has kept for nearly fifteen years, writing down quotes from his friends – and from Guitierrez, too.
“Most of the lines that are featured as dialogue are things that Zahira said maybe ten years ago, and she’s like, ‘I remember saying that!’ and I’m like, ‘Well it’s been sitting in my notepad for ten years,'” Swann chuckles.
Meanwhile, more than a year after putting out “Boyish Wave” as a single, the song itself has taken on new meanings, as both Swann and Gutierrez explored new relationships (and watched those end as well, due to the band’s relentless touring schedule). “We’ve all been through it together as a band,” Gutierrez says. “[On tour], you’re essentially living with the same people for a year and a half. There will be some sort of drama. The way I feel now looking back, everything needed to happen the way that it has happened for us to move on to the next step. As a band, I think our main goal is when we do something new we want it to be different, get out of our comfort zone. There were a lot of emotional moments but it all needed to happen for us to end up here.” She adds, “with the video, I don’t think the script could have been made when the song came out a year ago. Certain things had to happen – we had to go through things as people, as a band – for it to come out the way that it did.”
Swann says that growth as a band gave them the confidence they needed “to do something as scary as the next step.” Rather than participate in another grueling tour, both agree they’d like to “act with more of a sense of urgency” as Swann puts it. “If there’s one thing we’ve learned through the process of making these albums, it’s that the amount of time that goes into making one always keeps you away from entertaining. And you don’t get to make an album when you’re out touring. And we’d like to do both a little more often.”
“We are trying to figure out a balance. This last record, we went through a very intense studio/writing process and a very intense touring process,” Gutierrez says, adding that the band is always writing, but is leaning toward stand-alone releases, rather than a full album, in this transitional phase.
Evidently, the turmoil has only made the friendships within the band stronger – the fire to the fuel Wild Moccasins need as they begin their next chapter. “Though there’s always something new, there’s always something that we’re moving on to, it’s been really an absolute pleasure to get to grow with Zahira through all of it, through each step,” Swann confesses. “That’s something I don’t take for granted – that friendship that started with us as kids in a band and got us where we are now.”
Singer, songwriter, and multi-instrumentalist Lauren Rocket is the embodiment of the word “badass,” and that’s no clearer than in her latest single, “Rattlesnake.” In the video for the fierce, beat-driven rebel anthem, we see Rocket dancing around the house, ravenously eating sweets, and posing in an “Anarchy” shirt while singing lyrics like, “I like the pain because it keeps me awake / can’t sleep, don’t put on the brakes.”
Rocket signed her first record deal at age 18, toured with artists including The Child and The Pink Spiders as part of her pop-punk band Rocket, and has most recently toured alongside Rilo Kiley’s Blake Sennett and The Honorary Title’s Jarrod Gorbel in Night Terrors of 1927. As a solo artist, her music has included catchy, danceable, elecropop hits (like “Sharks” and her cover of Echo and the Bunnymen’s “The Killing Moon“) that project a sassy, self-assured persona.
We asked her about the evolution of her music, what it was like to be in an all-female punk band, and what “Rattlesnake” means to her.
AF: What is the concept behind the song and video for “Rattlesnake”? What inspired you to come up with it?
LR: With “Rattlesnake,” I wanted to write a song about living life dangerously, doing what you want daily, and enjoying your limited time here while imposing a strong belief in trying everything at least once. When I got in the studio with my co-writers Jason Bell and Jordan Miller (aka HEAVY), they totally got the vibe and concept, and we kind of effortlessly weaved our way through the song. I wanted “Rattlesnake” to not only convey that lyrically, but I wanted it to feel alive (“rattlesnakey”) in a sense.
Visually, my co-creater Zoey Taylor and I envisioned a video that really was pure, moving picture “mood,” capturing the essence of momentary youthful freedom and a strong amount of weirdness. We are both giant fans of Harmony Korine and love how his movie, Gummo, is a series of unforgettable vignettes that all work together to create a solid, visceral movie that you can feel in your bones and heart. He was our main inspiration, and our goal was to make it feel like the viewer is experiencing another life in little glimpses — maybe escaping into that world for a couple minutes, maybe questioning it, but maybe not.
AF: What does the rattlesnake symbolize to you?
LR: Snakes in general represent the obvious: temptation, danger, seduction, toxicity, etc. They can kill in one moment, which makes them super powerful beings. Rattlesnakes, to me, are symbolic visual representations of what I imply in the song with the line, “I wanna live like I’m dying today.”
AF: I know you’ve collaborated and toured with a number of accomplished artists and songwriters. Have they influenced your music? Who would you say your biggest influences are?
LR: I have learned so much from so many people on this journey, and I am grateful for every writing and touring experience I’ve ever had, as they’ve just made me a better version of myself as well as a better writer. I strongly believe that it’s pretty hard to grow without collaboration, because there is so much to learn from others. It’s kind of essential to creation. I have a ton of influences, so it’s hard to only name a few and not bore everyone, so I would say Dolly Parton for her grace, innate talent, and authenticity; Freddy Mercury, no question; and Deborah Harry because there’s just no one cooler. And how could I not mention David Bowie?
AF: Would you say there’s an overall theme to your music? I know you once said you write about everything butlove — why is that?
LR: I guess I could write love songs all day long. It’s a go-to for me, and I could cry and write them for hours, so the challenge for me is to write about other subjects, like aliens and snakes and wizards. I only laugh and never really cry unless I’m laughing too much, so it’s a win-win situation.
AF: Pop-punk seems to be very male-dominated — what was it like having a female band in this genre? Were there particular challenges or stereotypes you faced?
LR: Just being marginalized as a “girl band” was limiting in itself. There’s a different psychology behind how people view all female bands, and it’s a whole thing. There was this weird underlying feeling of having to prove ourselves as a musicians and performers. It was yucky, but there was another side that was beautiful and amazing. We just did our thing and had so much fun playing shows all over the country. I feel so lucky to have had those experiences in life. We simply loved playing music and touring around in a beat-up van, eating chips. I love playing with women. There’s something magical that happens when we work together.
AF: In what ways would you say your music has changed since Rocket?
LR: I’ve grown a lot, experienced a lot, and learned a lot since Rocket. That band had a bevy of puppeteers expressing their opinions on what we should sound like and act like. We were super young and green. I’ve learned a lot about myself and dug real deep in these past few years while practicing a lot of internal and spiritual work, which my soul really craved. In turn, this project is definitely the most authentic representation of who I am creatively at this moment in my life and expresses my inner thoughts, sometimes obviously and sometimes abstractly. These are the songs that I hear in my head when I’m just walking around, living my life every day. I know exactly how I want them to sound. It’s been a really inspiring and exciting journey so far, and I’m excited for it to keep unfolding.
Follow Lauren Rocket on Facebook for ongoing updates.
In 2013, Seattle musician Katie Kuffel broke out as a fierce-yet-tender songwriter, with artful piano skills and a husky, blues-imbued voice. She’s also made a name for herself as a community builder, organizing the Fremont Abbey Sessions in 2016—a community-driven music and video project—and striving to collaborate with and raise up local talent.
Kuffel is also a survivor. When the singer-songwriter was freshman in college, she was brutally raped and almost lost her life. With this new song and video, “Jelly Donut,” premiered with Audiofemme, Kuffel takes the time to look at her recovery in the big picture.
On “Jelly Donut,” Kuffel’s piano line repeats like the chime of a rusty church bell, and the lyrics “I don’t think about you,” also come up several times. This captures the “two steps forward, one step back” nature of her recovery, as she puts it, and the determination necessary for so many assault survivors to keep going. The video adds to this tone—a crew of roller derby skaters, the Tilted Thunder Rail Birds, glide around a dimly lit track. There are collisions and straightaways, smiles and grimaces. It’s an artful metaphor.
“I’ve been back to square one many times. That doesn’t mean I’ve failed. It means it’s a battle I’ve won before, and can win again,” she said.
Along with premiering this video, Audiofemme talked with the singer-songwriter about her recovery, why she cares about community, and how she sees Seattle’s musicians being sorely overlooked.
AF: Tell me a bit about your upbringing in Seattle — and what got you into Seattle music? Did you go see shows? How were you involved at a young age? Who/what did you listen to most in your early years?
KK: I had a pretty wonderful time growing up in the PNW. I was actually born and raised just outside of Seattle on Bainbridge Island. Small town vibe, very musically supportive family, and in a lot of ways fortunate in that I was encouraged to pursue music from an early age. I started cello when I was 8, played marimbas through middle school and high school, and also learned piano in that time as well. Music was a much needed sanctuary for me during my teen years, as it is for many.
I would often go to Seattle to see big shows at The Paramount (I recall seeing Regina Spektor, Sufjan Stevens, and Vienna Teng being among my favorites), or travel to eastern Washington to see musicians and attend festivals at The Gorge.
AF: You say it yourself—your music is a combo of a lot of different genres, and unlike anything most of us have heard before. Do you work to achieve this sound, or is it your natural output?
KK: It’d be much simpler for me I think, if I came at songwriting with any real goal in mind. I write what feels right for me, and try to be as genuine as I can. Music is my chance to be transparent, so it’s definitely something that just naturally flows from me, and because I embrace my oddity and I love change, that’s directly reflected in my output.
I have a pretty broad range of tastes as far as what I consume goes, and I love playing with others. I’ll often bring the bones of a song to my band, like lyrics and structure, then we workshop it together until it feels good to play. We all have different backgrounds, tastes, and I think it gets all mixed together to make something that I never could have arrived to on my own. We finalize songs by just performing them a ton. So in a way, our audiences also have a part to play in how it sounds in the end.
AF: Is music your full-time gig?
KK: I’m firmly in this weird, self-employed, gig economy that many twenty-somethings find themselves in. Music makes up the biggest part of my income, but I also do design work, I paint murals, illustrate, and will take random jobs as they come. Before this I was working an 8 to 5 office job for over a year, and I think it was the final push I needed to attempt being fully self-employed. I wasn’t fulfilled, I had no energy, I was running on fumes and feeling like I had no room to create. Happy to say it’s been over a year since then and I still have a roof over my head.
AF: What’s your songwriting process like? What sort of mantras do you have to help keep yourself on track creatively?
KK: It totally depends on the song. I’m definitely a lyrics-focused artist, so words are usually what I’m basing my music around. I’ve also started trying to write songs quickly, as a kind of exercise. Like… a few hours before a show quickly. It makes me less afraid of experimenting, and I think allows me to share a genuinely unique moment with my audience. I really don’t have a concrete process, but I do have some principals I like to create by.
Not everything is going to be good. But sometimes you have to unclog the drain to get started on the next thing.
No one else can create what you create. That’s both humbling and powerful. Own it.
Get out of your own way. And by this I mean, don’t put limits on the kind of songs you think you should write. In the creative arena you are all-powerful.
Not every song is meant to be shared. That’s okay.
AF: You are a very community-focused artist. Why is community important to you, and in particular, what are your goals for Seattle’s music community?
KK: I’m very thankful to the people in my life who support me, and I think I’m lucky to have landed in such a welcoming music community. Seattle’s scene is special, I believe, and people look after each other here. I think it doesn’t make sense to be competitive in music. I want to see others be successful, I want to play with people, I want to lift others up where I can, because it’s one of the few ways I know to help make the world a little more palatable. I believe music is a conduit for sharing our experiences, sharing space, and understanding that we are not alone.
AF: Many Seattle musicians are leaving the area because of cost of living and other struggles amidst the tech boom. What are your views on that? Why/how do you remain here?
KK: Seattle is choking out its creative community. It’s true, a lot of us are moving outwards, to Tacoma, or Olympia, or to new states all together. If housing costs aren’t addressed soon, if the continued indifference for protecting diverse communities isn’t addressed and the fight against Seattle’s extreme gentrification isn’t won, Seattle will lose all of its soul. I really believe this. It shouldn’t be our job to explain to a city why we matter. Why art matters. Why it is not just for your passive consumption, but a part of our collective cultural identity. Seattle used to be a city proud of its rich history in jazz and grunge, and now it feels like a lot of the tech community likes the idea of living in a “cool” city, but doesn’t want to put their money where their mouth is by going to local shows, supporting art programs, and rethinking Seattle’s archaic tax structures to serve the larger populace.
I stay because for now I can afford to. For now there are enough genuinely supportive folks and musicians here to let me forget about the overarching problems Seattle’s growth is causing. I also recognize as a white, cis woman, a lot of these issues won’t effect me as drastically as it does other minorities. This problem doesn’t just effect musicians. It effects families, it effects small business, it effects Seattle’s future. I wish I had an answer.
AF: Tell me about this new song, “Jelly Donut.” It is about recovering from sexual trauma. Will you share a bit about that context? Why did you decide to share your story?
KK: I think sharing my story played a large part in my recovery. When I was a freshman in college (before I eventually dropped out due to PTSD-related issues) I was violently raped, and nearly lost my life. Once from the incident, and once from being suicidal. It’s not something you get over, but it is something you learn to live with. Each story of rape, or recovery from sexual trauma, or abuse, is different. So know anything I say is based entirely on my own experiences, and shouldn’t be taken as a blanket statement for every survivor.
“Jelly Donut” was a song I wrote after I was able to have relationships again, after I’d gone to therapy for years, after I’d taken anti depressants, and had a toolbox of healthy coping mechanisms at my disposal. I wanted to highlight, yes that I’m alive and I’ve made it, but also memorialize in a way all of the downswings inherent in recovery. Flashbacks are common and unpredictable. Manic episodes don’t wait for a convenient time. Your brain is scarred, and sometimes those scars will flare up. In recovery I’ve lost my footing so many times, but I find my strength in knowing that those times will pass, that I have and I will be able to live to see another day, and find happiness and worth, and love. I will probably continue to stumble for the rest of my life. Maybe in moments few and far between, but that’s okay.
AF: You talk about the “cyclical nature” of recovery. What does that mean to you? How did you represent that musically on “Jelly Donut”?
KK: Recovery for many things is a two steps forward, one step back kind of deal. Or sometimes you have to start all over again. There’s a common misconception that recovery is a straight line, a linear process where the survivors gets further and further away from the incident, so they must be getting better and better in equal measure. This is false and dangerous thinking, and by refusing to acknowledge that healing is repeating the same behaviors, and understanding how your brain works, and failing then finding new ways to continue on with your life, we run the risk of punishing ourselves for an incident that was outside of our control. I’ve been back to square one many times. That doesn’t mean I’ve failed. It means it’s a battle I’ve won before, and can win again.
Musically, I love the repetition of the piano lick. It reminds me of when a record is scratched, and repeats the same line again and again. The beginning and ending also feature the same bell sound. I wanted the music to begin and end at the same place. I also repeat a lot of words over and over again in this song. Phrases like “I don’t think about you” or “I can say a lot of pretty words” and “Do you even know my name” also have that same scratched record quality. I wanted it to feel like I was struggling to even move on in the song.
AF: Tell me about the personnel on the track— where’s it recorded and who’s playing on it?
KK: So I recorded this with Johnny Bregar over at Brickyard Studios in my hometown of Bainbridge Island one sunny afternoon. It was then mixed and mastered by my two close friends Cody Kilpatrick and Hunter Rath. These three people are some of the most genuine, sensitive souls I’ve met and have had the pleasure to work with. I felt I could trust them all with a song that’s this personal.
I sang and played keys. But Jon Robinson plays bass on this track, and Jordan Wiegert plays drums. They’re part of my trio and we’ve played together for over two years. I wanted to record this song with familiar folks, friends, and peers. It was a cathartic process for me, and their support was important for the success of the track.
Kuffel and her bandmates.
AF: Will “Jelly Donut” be part of a forthcoming album? If so, can we expect that to drop shortly?
KK: “Jelly Donut” is actually a one-off. It’s a song I needed to get out into the world. It felt strong enough to stand on it’s own, so no, there will be no new CD featuring this track. That does not mean there won’t be a new CD come 2020 however.
AF: What’s the future look like for Katie Kuffel? What are some goals you have for your music career?
KK: Music has always taken me to places I never expected to be. My goals are kind of loose. I don’t really want to be a famous person. I know I would make music even if no one would hear it. As long as I’m allowed to keep growing, as long as my music feels true and genuine to who I am, then I will be proud of it. Then I will trust that it will reach the people who need to hear it. Monetarily, I really just want my music to be able to support itself. To allow me to afford to keep making it. To allow me to bring it to people around the world.
Follow Katie Kuffel on Facebook for ongoing updates.
Sinclair reaches through the screen with confidence and positive energy in the music video for her song, “Drop Dead Knockout,” premiering exclusively with Audiofemme.
Co-written by Sinclair, Nikolai Potthoff and Julia Hugel in 2018 in Berlin, Germany, the unapologetic bop embraces themes of individuality and self-acceptance. The free-spirited video features LA-based choreographer and actress Courtni Poe dancing her way through the streets of Berlin, past graffiti and into the subway station, with her effervescent moves, bright energy and spirit reflecting the song’s nature. Sinclair and her wife Natalie Rose spent a couple of months living in Berlin and wanted the playful video to capture its unique, eclectic vibe. “The thing that I’ve connected to is that there is this overall sense of self-expression and individuality. There is a sense of crazy freedom,” she says of the city. “I feel so at home there.”
Sonically, the track intertwines Sinclair’s vast-ranging influences, from the bold hip-hop of Timbaland to Sade’s blend of pop, jazz and soul, while the singer herself plays that infectious guitar loop. Filled with attitude, the track finds Sinclair stepping into a place of self-confidence, singing lines like “all the girls/try for me/ I’m as good as they want me to be” with casual bravado.
“We’re allowed to say that; we’re allowed to have that confidence,” she says. “‘Drop Dead Knockout’ is really about me coming to this place in my individuality and being able to wear what I want to wear and self-express the way that I want to. I think knockout, it’s that power, it’s like that guttural confidence. It’s feeling in your gut you can do anything and take on any shit you got going on in your life and dreaming big.”
Though the video solidifies her singular vision, the singer admits that seeking individuality has been a lifelong quest. Raised in upstate New York in the small town of Madrid, Sinclair is sixth in a line of nine siblings, her father an Evangelical pastor and mother a teacher who homeschooled all nine children. A Beatles fan at the age of four and learning to play piano a year later, Sinclair discovered her musical passion at age 12 when her father began teaching her how to play classical guitar, quickly becoming “obsessed” with the instrument.
It was during this time that she began writing songs and accepting her sexuality, knowing her whole life that she was attracted to women. But growing up in a religious household where the family’s belief system was tied to the church stifled her ability to share her feelings with those closest to her. “It was really hard for me in that period to write honest songs. I was writing in code,” she heartily laughs. “I was trying to write songs that sometimes were reflecting that, but if I wrote those songs, they had to be enough in code that nobody would ask questions that would get to the bottom line.”
All Photos by Tobias Ortmann
Sinclair came out to her family when she was 20, the news creating friction between them, as they wouldn’t accept her. “When I came out, it was really hard because I felt really betrayed in the sense that they projected on to my character new things,” she reflects. “I think what was heartbreaking was that there was a sense that I was a totally different person in my character overall. Even though the truth was there now, there was still this overarching sense of loneliness, because nobody was really trusting me and knowing my character at that point.”
She left home for Nashville in 2011, where she met and fell in love with Natalie. The couple wed at an all-boys school in Nashville in 2014. Rather than viewing the lack of acceptance from her family through the eyes of bitterness, the singer says it’s part of the journey to finding pure happiness and peace, knowing she found the person who brings meaning to her life. “I have this sense of excitement over the freedom that I get to experience now every day and it’s never lost on me,” she observes, adding that she has recently reconnected with her family. “I understand more than a lot of people how simple life is and I’m lucky, and it’s really because of all that shit. It’s a blessing and a curse.”
With a sound that blends hip-hop and flamenco music, along with her colorful style that’s splashed across her Instagram, she seems to embody individuality; each element is a piece of the journey to Sinclair’s discovery of her creative identity. But she admits that pressure to conform to music industry standards has made it difficult over the years to find artistic independence – she notes that she didn’t start dressing the way she wanted to until two years into her relationship with Natalie. She says her “awakening confidence” allowed more of her true self to click into place. “I just wish for everybody that wherever they’re at now, they’re able to find happiness and confidence in their own skin,” she says.
She pinpoints one relatively recent epiphany: a visit she and Natalie took to the Picasso Museum in Barcelona, Spain in 2018. While analyzing his work, she saw a progression in which he began his career following his contemporaries, to eventually abandoning classic technique and creating his revolutionary style. As she continues down her own distinct path, Sinclair may find herself voyaging through an artistic evolution of equal lengths. “He was good until his 40s, and then he was good and different, and then he was a noteworthy artist. And I just was like ‘that’s what being an artist is about,’” she proclaims. “I think that I’ll always be learning that.”
“Drop Dead Knockout” is available now. Sinclair is currently on tour with Kevin Griffin of Better Than Ezra through Nov. 20.
NYC-based alt-pop artist PETRA started playing piano before she could walk and got her first electric guitar when she was six, after she complained to her mother that she wanted to be her “own kind of musician.” Today, this philosophy of independence is still in her music, which contains empowering lyrics about embracing singlehood and not settling. She made her debut in 2015 with “Glamour Girl,” a playful and flirty love sing with lyrics like “You hit my radar like a blazing laser.” Her latest single “Just Stay” is a little different, showing a more vulnerable side of who she is in relationships. She plans to compile her music into an album that she’s releasing on November 12, titled Dancing Without You. We talked to her about her latest music, future plans, and the trials and tribulations of modern dating.
AF: So what’s the story behind your new single “Just Stay”?
P: It’s definitely one of my more heartfelt songs on this album, and it’s mostly inspired by this conversation I had with a former partner. It came at this really critical time in our relationship where we seemed to be at this crossroads, and it was really hard to talk about how we felt because somewhere down the line, the love faded, and instead of addressing it, we waited until this final moment. But even though things got bad, I was still telling him, “I want you to stay.” It was interesting because I’m a hopeless romantic, and I think love is so powerful, love can fix all these things — and it was the first time I doubted that thought because love is not always strong enough to keep things together. That song was me pleading to him to stay and saying we can fix things, but he felt otherwise, so that’s where the conversation came from.
AF: A lot of your songs about being self-sufficient and not relying on relationships. How do you balance that with being a hopeless romantic?
P: When I’m in a relationship, I can be quite prideful sometimes, and there’s a line in the pre-chorus that goes, “Forgive me for I know I’m weak, but I’ve shredded all my dignity on you.” I can be independent — I run my own life — but in that moment, it was just this overwhelming sense of vulnerability that I just faced head-on. And usually, I’m not somebody to give in to that feeling, but in that moment, it was so intense and hard to ignore, and I was accepting a moment where I feel so weak and feel I need someone, and even the most independent of people can feel vulnerable in those moments.
AF: Your previous single, “Luckboy,” sort of embodies that fiercely independent attitude. What inspired that one?
P: It’s funny because “Just Stay” and “Luckboy” are pretty much the opposite of each other, but it’s kind of interesting to think that this is the next single because this album is such a good example of the different parts that encompass my personality. And with “Luckboy,” it definitely dug into that fierce boss lady attitude that I always carry myself with, going to the idea that I just don’t need anybody, that I can function on my own, that sort of “screw guys, who needs them” attitude. This song came after “Just Stay” in a way because I needed to get myself back into the game and feel like I was in charge again after going on so many terrible dates, especially one specific one where I was like, “I don’t need anybody. I can do this on my own.” I do think of myself as having these different sides of my personality. I lean to more the fierce PETRA idea, but “Just Stay” goes into my more vulnerable side.
AF: So what was the date that inspired “Luckboy”?
P: I was seeing a guy. He was pretty cool. We went on a couple dates, and I was just more interested to see where things were going. And after one date, we were sitting down, and he said things were not working out for him on his end. But instead of it being a nice conversation, it was like he said his piece then gave me a high five and said, “Are we still gonna be friends?” And I was just in that moment like, “Cool, this is an interesting way to have this conversation.” Then I got up and left, not wanting to have this conversation. I was like, that took me by surprise. Just let that one go.
I sort of had this emotion because I went on a couple different dates, and some New York guys have a similar one-man-for-themself, don’t-have-the-time-and-energy-to-invest-in-someone-else attitude, and that was unfortunately the type of guy I was seeing at the time. And I sort of took the experiences I had from these various dates and constructed “Luckboy,” which is a play on the word “fuckboy.” I like to think I can be very coy with words, so instead of “fuckboy,” I said, “You’re running out of luck, boy.”
Credit: Andrew Bordeaux
AF: How does being a woman of color play into it for you?
P: In the past, in the pop world, I feel as though there weren’t so many women of color at the forefront. Nowadays, Lizzo has changed that perspective. Yes, she raps, but in terms of being accepted by the pop world, she’s one of the biggest stars of the moment — also super body-positive. When I started my music journey, people were like, “Are you sure you want to do pop? Because it sounds like you should be doing more urban-based music.” And I love that kind of music, but it’s not what I identified with. So, with my music, I wanted to hone in on, “Yes, I’m a woman of color. I sing pop music. But I can still sing about the same subjects as my counterparts and be part of that world.
Nowadays, it’s much more accepted, and there’s more visibility and inclusivity in the pop world, so the perspective I can give is talking about the same subjects, like love, romance, heartbreak, death, and loss, in a way that hasn’t been addressed by other pop artists — so, taking back the idea that this is an inclusive genre and including that there are different races and ethnicities, so I can be that person i didn’t see growing up on television or on the radio.
AF: Who are your biggest influences?
P: I would say I’ve always been influenced by a lot of ’60s and ’70s rock and roll, a lot of Rolling Stones, The Beatles, The Who, I would say Queen was a big influence, but also I love Fleetwood Mac, Cher, my list can go on and on. So, I’d say a lot of ’60s and ’70s music was the core of my sound because that’s what I grew up listening to via my father. Then, some old-school pop. I’ve always loved Britney Spears, how can you not? I’ve always melded these old-school songs with modern-day pop, so that’s where the balance of my songs comes from.
AF: What are your next plans?
P: There’s going to be this really awesome album release show at Knitting Factory at the end of this month. The album comes out November 12, and in spring 2020, I’m planning on going on a cross-country tour. The details of that are still in the works and will be announced early next year. I’m really excited because I love performing live and can’t wait to get back out on the road.
Los Angeles isn’t the never-ending traffic slog that people may imagine when they visualize the City of Angels. It’s a breathtaking metropolis surrounded by mountains, hugged by the ocean on one side and the desert on the other. Originally from Madison, Wisconsin, Anna Vogelzang embraces the wild and weird terrain of LA in her latest video for the title track to her forthcoming LP Beacon.
“This video was a love letter to LA, ” Vogelzang explains. “Abby beautifully caught these glimpses of moving through my neighborhood, the night sky, the feeling of driving with the windows down in Highland Park. This whole album was written to the backdrop of the city, and I wanted something that created a visual testament to that.” Vogelzang beautifully captures the feeling of creating a nest, a quiet space in the middle of a chaos. While watching the video, I paused and leaned in at times to see if she had added nature sounds: rustling leaves, a chickens burr, a child’s footsteps. The sounds weren’t there, but the music perfectly captured the magic on screen.
“Beacon” is a song for those brave enough to move to Los Angeles, but even more so, it’s a song for those who are willing to dig a little deeper into the soul of the city, to find those secret streets and hidden highways that lead out into the lush beauty that is California.
Watch AudioFemme’s exclusive premiere of “Beacon” and read our full interview with Anna below.
AF: You can play guitar, ukulele, baritone ukulele, banjo, and kalimba…When did you first take an interest in music and what led you to these instruments in particular?
AV: I grew up in a house full of music; my parents both sing and play – my mom professionally – and almost all of my extended family members are musical, too. So I don’t really remember first taking an interest – I’ve always loved to sing, and started playing piano when I was four. I switched to guitar when I was a teenager since it seemed like the songs I liked were all played on guitar, and that it was an easier instrument to teach myself (hah!). Really, the instruments were always just ways to support my writing, and singing – I wanted something to accompany my words and melodies, and so whatever worked, stuck. Now I’ve moved through that and have really been learning more about guitar, appreciating the different avenues you can take with it, trying to become a better instrumentalist. I’d say at this point it’s my main instrument for sure.
AF: Beacon is your 7th studio release. Has your writing process changed at all from your first EP?
AV: I’m so glad that it has – if I was still writing the way I was when I was 18, I’d be worried for myself! So many things have changed over those years – learning about the studio, learning what I want from different sounds, my taste in music, which directly affects the music I make… the list goes on. I’m at a point now where writing is an exercise, a muscle that I try to keep in shape, and the best songs are the ones that make it to the album. When I was starting out, every song was a diary entry, and each one got equal attention at shows and in the studio – every song was a precious gem and needed its moment in the sun. Now, the ones that I share are from the top of a mountain of songs that most people won’t really get to hear. I’m much more selective, because there are so many more songs now – because I’m not just waiting for the muse to strike. I’m putting in the work.
AF: When you initially moved to Los Angeles, you started a Salon series with your friend and guitarist Adam Levy; that series ended up moving to The Bootleg Theatre. What an incredible venue to perform at! Can you tell us a bit about the process of bootstrapping the series and how it landed at The Bootleg?
AV: Yes! So Salon actually began as a songwriting group that met at my house. Adam Levy and I co-hosted other songwriters once a week and we all tried to bring a new piece of writing to be workshopped. It was great for our output – once we got in a groove, a song a week became the norm. Bringing those songs to our friends at Salon helped us to figure out if it was just an idea, or something worth working on further, and helped us to dive into the editing process. Every song on this new album went through that group of people, which feels extraordinarily lucky.
We decided to bring it to the public and pitched our idea to the Bootleg, who were happy to host us for a month long residency – the team at the Bootleg is amazing, and we wouldn’t have wanted to do it anywhere else in town. Adam and I featured four different songwriters every week, and then had surprise guests each play a song in the middle of the evening. Some weeks there were 11 songwriters on stage by the end of the night. We shared new songs and talked about the writing process with each other on stage – it was really a dream show. We had so much fun.
AF: You’re a mom now (as am I). Living with a toddler has many unique challenges. How do you carve out time for music? And has your writing process changed dramatically?
AV: Ohhhh yes. GO TEAM MOM! It’s pretty crazy, isn’t it?! I cannot do it without help. Usually, if I’m not momming, I’m working on my business while my fella or family members or sitters watch my kiddo. Unfortunately “working on my business” usually means emails and promotion and merch fulfillment instead of creative work. What’s worked for me in the last two years is carving out time for my creative work the same way I do for the rest of my work. So if I have a sitter for four hours, I work for three and write for one. The days of waiting for the muse to hit are long gone – so in that sense, yes, my writing process was forced to change. But thanks to the accountability and routine of Salon, it had already gotten into that new rhythm before I had a baby, so it wasn’t too much of a shift.
AF: What currently gets you up in the morning (other than your little)? Books, music, food?
AV: Right now it feels like I am just barreling through this season of transition as the album comes out. I wish I’d been reading more. I feel like my version of books right now are my favorite newsletters: my friend Marlee Grace; my friend Sarah at Modern Women; I am obsessed with empowerment/magic/horoscope newsletters. They give me a little oomph in the morning. I’m loving my friend Madison Cunningham’s new record, and my friend Rosie Tucker just dropped a single called “Ambrosia” that I’ve loved hearing live forever – I’m so glad it’s out. Jamie Drake’s new album is gorgeous. I can’t wait to hear AO Gerber’s new album whenever that comes out down the line, and this month I’ve been going back into the Mirah archives, who is a forever-favorite of mine and listening to all of my old favorite songs over again.
AF: You work with Girls Rock LA Camp, an institution we’re big fans of here at AudioFemme. You yourself struggled with guitar at first (hand strength is the bane of my existence). How do you encourage girls who get frustrated at the plateau?
AV: I love Rock Camp so much. The thing about camp is that we don’t usually hit that plateau stage, luckily. You’re all so focused on the goal of the showcase at the end of the week, that it’s really just figuring out how to empower the camper with whatever tools they need to feel great about the getting on stage in four days and play something that works for that song, that moment. With longer term students I’ve had (who are mostly at the college level), I use that same camp framework and create short term goals. If they’ve gotten to a point where they can pass but can’t progress, if you will, a lot of times we’ll find one thing that’s really challenging (a new time signature, fingerpicking versus strumming, playing a specific lick) and just work on that, one foot in front of the other. I try to give myself the same assignment, too – a lot of times the best way to achieve that is through covers, which makes it a funner process for everyone.
AF: You’re going on tour in October. What should fans expect from an Anna Vogelzang show?
AV: My album release show in LA on the 4th is going to be full band, which I can’t wait for. We’re going to play the whole album front to back – so it will sound like the album, I hope! I tend to chat a lot at shows… not too much, but you can’t avoid catching some feelings, you know? On my Midwest and East Coast runs, I’m going to be solo, which I’m also super excited for – bringing these songs to folks the way they were written, in their most vulnerable state. Plus, that way I get to experiment with pedals, textures, an affected vocal mic – in order to recreate some of the ambiance of the album. I can’t wait to hit the road… I guess people should expect a good hang and honest songwriting. And lots of La Croix.
Erin Bowman follows the singer-songwriter playbook for conveying vulnerability in her new song, “Spilled Milk,” premiering on Audiofemme.
The rising star made a name for herself when her irresistibly catchy hit “Good Time Good Life” was featured in an episode of season 1 of This is Us and promotional ads for the 2017 Academy Awards. Following a move from the East Coast to Los Angeles, she’s now honing her craft for sincere songwriting on her upcoming debut EP, Apartment 101.
With the simple piano ballad structure of “Spilled Milk,” Bowman gives off Christina Perri vibes, while haunting production evokes the emotions of self-analyzing a relationship that ended with a broken heart. “I had been seeing this guy and it ended on not so great terms. I was really hurt and disappointed. I didn’t see it ending the way it did with him. It was a real bummer,” Bowman explains about the inspiration behind the song. “I ended it with the guy I was seeing and started coming to all these realizations. I was surprised because I thought I knew him so well and I never expected it.”
Throughout the song, Bowman gently expresses the pain she felt going through the breakup while sharing the frustration that stems from having a deceitful partner. “No point in chasin’ / chasin’ the ghost / no point in stayin’ / oh but you’re keeping me close / and I thought I knew you / so it hit me hard / facing the fact / I don’t know who you are,” she proclaims. These striking lines are “quite powerful,” she says. “Somebody keeping you close but not too close, having you around when it’s good for them, on their terms. That seemed to be a theme in my love life for a bit.”
While she draws from a pool of emotion to tell her story, Bowman doesn’t shy away from adding subtle humor to her heartache, comparing her disappointment in the relationship to the song’s title. “No use crying over spilled milk right? But actually I was quite upset and there was a lot of crying. In all honesty it was probably me trying to throw a jab in there,” she laughs.
“Spilled Milk” is included on Apartment 101, set for release on November 1, alongside previously released singles “There You Go Again” and “Your Mother.” Recorded in London, the EP includes seven original songs and a serene acoustic cover of “Kiss Me.” The idea to record in London arose when Bowman and a friend were performing at an open mic night in the city and met a pair of producers. Feeling instant chemistry with them, Bowman returned to London several times to create Apartment 101.
“I had such an amazing time recording this EP in London, which is good, because the experiences that inspired the songs weren’t my best,” she describes, adding that she’s an open book throughout the EP, delivering strong doses of honesty. “I am giving details on top of details, pretty much just pouring my heart out.”
Follow Erin Bowman on Facebook for more updates, or catch her at a record store near you during her National U.S. Indie Music Store tour.
As much as the Seattle sound is about notions of counterculture and nonconformity, the ever-present majesty of the area’s natural surroundings is embedded within it as well, offering a sense of cohesion among what is otherwise a city of musical eclecticism. The melancholy gray skies, majestic evergreen forests, and churning waters of the Puget Sound all have their way with the music made in this area. Lemolo—vocalist and multi-instrumentalist Megan Grandall—is a perfect example of this phenomenon.
Lemolo’s forthcoming release, Swansea, out Oct. 11, is a little pop/rock, a little ambient electronic, a little folk singer-songwriter. Grandall draws many different musical influences that, on their own, are seemingly disconnected from place. But, when knitted together organically by the demands of her lyrical inspirations—her turbulent inner-world and the lush environment of Grandall’s hometown of Poulsbo, WA—there’s a through-line that wasn’t there before. Swansea’s eleven original roiling soundscapes—echo-y, ambient canvases kissed with Grandall’s gentle vocals—are magnificent, pensive and intoxicating. It’s an album that can only be from the Pacific Northwest.
Lemolo gave Audiofemme an exclusive premiere of the single “South of Sound,” below, discussed her collaboration with legendary Seattle-area producer Nathan Yaccino (who’s worked with Seattle music royalty like Soundgarden), and explained the difficult and miraculous experiences that birthed her third tender and triumphant full-length, Swansea.
AF: Is this single “South of Sound” a tribute to your South Seattle home? Or, does it have another meaning? How was the song born?
MG: The song is about the ending of an unhealthy relationship, and knowing it was unhealthy before it was over. When I’m singing that “we’re headed south of sound”, it’s a play on words to mean that my partner and I were heading in a bad direction where things are no longer “sound” or safe. But I also like how the song incorporates water imagery which is a slight homage to the Puget Sound where I live.
AF: Tell me about your childhood, and how you were first exposed to music. How many instruments do you play? Are you self-taught?
MG: I grew up loving music, and started playing the piano when I was 3 years old. I took piano lessons throughout my childhood, and then taught myself how to play guitar and write songs in high school. Music and songwriting has always been an important outlet for me and I’m so grateful I found it at a young age.
AF: What are some staples of your songwriting style, in your eyes?
MG: A common theme in my music is that all of my songs are very personal accounts of my own life and experiences. I’ve used songwriting as a tool to help me find healing in my own life and process my emotions. I’ve also heard people tell me that they can tell that I’m from the Pacific Northwest when they listen to my music. The landscape where I live is filled with natural beauty – I named my band after Lemolo Shore Drive in the small town where I’m from and where I live now – Poulsbo. It is sandwiched between the Puget Sound and the Olympic National Forest. And I think the natural world around me definitely inspires the mood of my music.
AF: When you formed Lemolo in 2009, what would you say your artistic mission was? Has it morphed over the years?
MG:My mission has always been to make music for as long as it brings me joy and healing. Lucky for me it is still the case, which is what motivates me each day as an independent artist.
AF: How does Seattle—specifically its landscape, music history, even its tech-y present—inform your music?
MG: Being a part of the Seattle music community has been a really positive experience, and I’ve found that musicians here are very supportive and encouraging rather than competitive. There is also a wonderful community of people who support local and independent art, which I am grateful for every day. I am a huge supporter of KEXP 90.3 FM as well, and they have played a big role in me being able to share my music with people around the world and have a larger platform. And as I mentioned, the natural beauty of the Pacific Northwest is a continual source of inspiration for me.
AF: Your forthcoming album, Swansea, is due to drop Oct. 11. Why did you decide to call it that?
MG: I learned of the word Swansea when I received an online order for one of my records from a fan living in Swansea, Wales about five years ago. (I serve as my own record label, so I handle my own shipping and order processing which has been a wonderful way to meet my fans!) When I read the word it immediately struck me, and I couldn’t get it out of my head. It conjured up a lot of imagery for me, and I kept it in the back of my mind while I was writing the songs for this record. As a songwriter, I’m always keeping track of words that intrigue and inspire me. I created a whole concept of what Swansea means to me in relation to this record.
AF: Tell me about that concept. I see the definition of “Swansea” quoted in your press release: “The vast place we find ourselves in when we lose someone. We are alone for the first time in what feels like forever, almost as if we are out to sea in our own solitude. But it is not necessarily a sad place. It is where we find strength in remembering how to stand on our own two feet.” Is this feeling coming from an autobiographical place, post-loss?
MG: Yes. This whole album is themed around loss of various forms that I have experienced in the recent past. The songs are about a combination of different types of loss, from the loss of love, the ending of relationships and friendships, and the loss of a friend due to suicide. Writing this album was very therapeutic for me, and was a good reminder that I can be okay on my own.
AF: Tell me about the personnel on the album, especially the string players who give it a really special, ethereal sound. You worked with Nathan Yaccino to track this record. What sort of insights did he give you?
MG: I worked in close collaboration with producer Nathan to create the sound of this record. I brought the finished songs to him, but we then spent a lot of time working together on just pre-production, tweaking the songs and experimenting with layers and structures before we even started recording. And once it came time to record I was honored to work with him on drums, percussion, vibraphone, and various other layers throughout the record. He’s a very talented multi-instrumentalist. We also worked with Alex Guy (of Led to Sea) who arranged and performed the strings on four of the songs (“Seventeen,” “South of Sound,” “Swansea,” and “Running Mate”), Maria Scherer Wilson on cello, and Jon Karschney on french horn. And I had the pleasure of performing vocals, keys, guitar, and synth bass, and various other additional layers as well.
AF: What does the future hold for Lemolo?
MG: I love to write songs and make melodies, and I have so many more new songs than I’m able to keep up with. So it is my dream that I am able to continue to record and share them, for as long as it continues to bring me joy. And I’m hoping that my new album is able to connect with people and move them in some way as well.
AF: Will you tour with Swansea?
MG: Yes! We leave for tour today (Thursday)! And I’m dreaming about touring the east coast with this new record too. Hopefully in 2020!
Follow Lemolo on Facebook for more updates, and check her out on one of the tour dates below.
9/19 – Bellingham, WA @ Wild Buffalo* | Tickets
9/20 – Mission, B.C. @ Copper Hall^ | Tickets 9/22 – Spokane, WA @ Lucky You Lounge* | Tickets 9/24 – Boise, ID @ Neurolux* | Tickets 9/26 – Salt Lake City, UT @ The State Room* | Tickets 9/27 – Denver, CO @ Bluebird Theater* |Tickets 9/28 – Fort Collins, CO @ Washington’s* | Tickets 9/30 – Kansas City, MO @ recordBar* | Tickets 10/1 – Minneapolis, MN @ Fine Line Music Cafe* | Tickets 10/2 – Milwaukee, WI @ Colectivo Coffee* | Tickets
10/4 – Chicago, IL @ Lincoln Hall* | Tickets 10/5 – Indianapolis, IN @ The Hi-Fi* | Tickets 10/6 – Columbus, OH @ A&R Music Bar* | Tickets
10/12 – Seattle, WA @ St. Mark’s Cathedral with Special String Ensemble | Tickets 10/18 – San Francisco, CA @ Neck of the Woods | Tickets
10/19 – Los Angeles, CA @ Hotel Cafe (9-10 PM) | Tickets
11/2 – Bellingham, WA @ Wild Buffalo+ | Tickets
11/16 – Portland, OR @ Mississippi Studios+ | Tickets
*with Noah Gundersen ^with Andrew Judah +with Kuinka
When pressing play on “Costume,” the new single from up-and-coming trio The Shindellas, it’s as much a journey as it is a song.
The genre-blending act of Kasi Jones, Stacy Johnson and Tamara Chauniece begin by transporting us back in time to the 1960s with a spirited introduction that offers glimmers into each woman’s personality: Stacy is mean on the bass, love is Kasi’s middle name and Tam can sing like the best of them. They share these idiosyncrasies over a melody that captures the cinematic sound reminiscent of iconic groups like The Supremes and The Chiffons. But just as you’re reveling in this throwback sound, the beat drops, transforming into a slick R&B jam.
Written and produced by Grammy nominated songwriters and producers Claude Kelly and Chuck Harmony, along with former American Idol contestant and Grammy Award winner Tori Kelly, a close ear to the lyrics reveal that the infectious melody surrounds a powerful message that encourages self-acceptance and the freedom to walk in one’s truth, the trio’s glistening harmonies lifting up such inspiring words, “All we want is love / all we got is us / baby that’s enough / let me see the real you / ain’t gotta wear your costume tonight.”
Kelly and Harmony are co-founders and CEOs of Weirdo Workshop, a Nashville-based artist collective that produces The Shindellas and their own work as groundbreaking duo, Louis York.
Listen to Audiofemme’s exclusive premiere of “Costume” and read our interview with The Shindellas below.
AF: What was your reaction when you first heard “Costume”?
SJ: It’s a really fun song, it’s got a fun beat. It’s one of those songs that I feel like everyone can sing along to. It’s uplifting, it feels like a party song.
KJ: The blended styles, it literally feels like a party song from the ’20s and also from the future, it really is theatrical. It plays with a lot of different parts of our voices, it was like all of us could really sink our teeth into something.
AF: What are listeners going to learn about you through this song?
SJ: They’re going to learn our names, they’re going to know what we bring, our perspectives, we talk about that. And they’re going to learn about this different movement and be encouraged to join that movement and be a part of it, just women singing together about that kind of thing. I don’t think it’s a new thing, but it’s just an encouraging thing that they’re going to learn, encouraged to be close with your sisters and empower your sisters around you.
KJ: It starts with all of our playfulness. We actually introduce ourselves on the song, but I think it’s the most direct of our songs in terms of our actual messaging like self-love, self-respect, self-worth. “You are allowed to be yourself without fear” is our mantra and this song is just talking about being authentically you, and that’s what we are creating. It’s an anthem to all the weirdos.
AF: What do you want listeners to take away when they listen to this song? What message are you trying to convey and how do you hope it impacts them when they hear this song?
KJ: I hope people really feel that we’re embracing everyone’s most authentic self; that you are allowed to be yourself without fear and that that’s what we’re about. I also hope people will hear the song and want to come see it. I hope it reaches through the speaker and then makes them feel like they’re a part of something, like “I can turn this on when I’m feeling lonely or when I need that boost.”
AF: In the context of this song, how do you define the word ‘costume?’
SJ: It means to put on a persona. It can be a literal persona. It could be something as literal as makeup to saying you’re okay when you’re not okay. A costume is something that you’re using to guard yourself. But I feel like we’ve learned when you’re vulnerable, when you’re transparent, that is when people can really empathize and understand you and fall in love with you. So we’re asking everyone to take off their costume, whether it be makeup or it be something that you might find a flaw that you might be hiding and it could be somebody’s encouragement, somebody’s inspiration.
KJ: It makes me think of when we did our Tiny Book Club [an initiative through Weirdo Workshop] on passing and that sometimes your costume is how you pass. You wear a costume to your corporate job or you wear a costume with your family or we have different personas like [Stacy] said or costumes that we put on and maneuver through life. But like we talked about in that conversation, can you be really free if you’re constantly passing? We want people to be free.
AF: One line that stood out to me is “We’re The Shindellas, we’re truth tellers.” How do you define “truth teller?”
TC: I think that a truth teller is someone who understands that you’re flawed, but they are a work in progress, and they are all about sharing that journey with whomever will listen. I think for truth tellers, they just want the truth to be the reality, so they’re willing to basically put themselves and their truth on the line to actually bring in more people so that the truth can actually be the one thing that prevails.
AF: So how do you, The Shindellas, feel that you are truth tellers? What truth are you hoping to share with the world?
KJ: The universal truth. We’re ones that love is and always will be our north star.
SJ: In our music so far that we’ve put out has been nothing but some pretty serious topics wrapped in bubbly sounds and cool harmonies. But a lot of the words and lyrics are honest experiences that we’ve had that, like [Tamara] said, want to share. Our music is a huge reflection of our truth telling.
AF: Do you feel like your truth is reflected in “Costume”?
The Shindellas: Absolutely.
KJ: We all feel like costumes.
SJ: Stacy feels like her Jamaican roots are in “Costume” somehow without even having to force it or make it something that’s super prominent. It feels very real and true in the music.
KJ: That’s so true. I can hear all of the movie musicals that are what made me even want to be a singer and an actor. All those movie musicals and all those vocal performances in the intro and the bridge, that’s my grandma, it’s my childhood, what made me want to even play this way.
TC: I can totally hear my gospel roots because I feel like the entire song we’re testifying. We’re literally preaching but in a way that doesn’t sound so preachy, it actually sounds fun, so it’s a really weird juxtaposition. It’s kind of like what [Kelly and Harmony] coined a “deep fried veggie,” it’s such a fun beat and you kind of don’t even recognize that there’s such an awesome message in it until it’s over and you’re like “wait a minute, what was this experience?” That’s what I really love about it.
AF: Another big mantra for you is “when women come together, powerful things can happen.” How do you feel that you all have become more powerful since coming together?
SJ: For me personally, I’m inspired by these two women. Because we’re going through this together, every time they choose to be their truest self or to speak their truth or to face their fear, it encourages me to do the same. It’s been a magnifier for us. Also, I feel like I’m able to have a bigger voice and reach more people because we’re together and it’s still the same message that I would have been doing by myself, but now I have my sisters and more people can see themselves in us, so we’re able to reach so much more. We’re magnifying our words and our songs and our message by being together.
TC: I think that through this experience, I’ve become more powerful because now that I know that I have two women that are depending on me to be my best self, that is something that causes me to constantly self-reflect and constantly look in the mirror and make sure that I am being my best self when I’m with them because I know that we’re the most powerful when we’re all operating at our maximum potential. Knowing that I now have accountability buddies, it just makes for an incredible journey.
Pop/reggae outfit The Big Takeover premieres their retro music video for “Shy” today. In the Dino Davaros-directed clip, the New York-based band star as guests of a 70’s late-night show, where they perform their latest single. The new video comes as the band hits the summer festival circuit in support of their forthcoming record, slated for release in the fall.
Frontwoman Nee Nee Rushie moved from Jamaica to the U.S. 16 years ago and has since shared the stage with legends like The Wailers, Pete Seeger, and Sister Sparrow. Here, she talks about what’s next for The Big Takeover, the move that changed her life, and the highlights of her career so far.
AF: Tell me a little bit about your song “Shy.” Did the idea come from a personal experience?
NNR: No, actually. I was going through a hard time in my relationship at the time when I wrote it. I found it therapeutic to write about a fictional scenario that was completely different from mine. It is about a girl that is in love with her best friend. He may be in love with her too, but he has a girlfriend.
AF: What made you want to go with the retro late-night show theme for your music video?
NNR: The song has a retro pop vibe that pairs perfectly with the retro late-night show theme. We knew we wanted to do a performance video, but the idea for a retro late-night show came from the director.
AF: What age did you move to the US and did you move for your music career?
NNR: I moved here when I was 15 years old. I moved to attend college. I went to college in New Paltz, NY. That is where I met my bandmates and started the band. Looking back, I realize that if I had not moved to the states and went to college where I went, The Big Takeover would have never happened. So in a way, my music career was directly linked to my move to the US.
AF: With three albums out already, what have been some highlights of your music career?
NNR: We actually have four albums out already. Our very first album called Following Too Close was released back in 2008. We sold 1000 copies of it and never made any more copies. It is on our “to do” list to re-release it online or something. Over the years, we have had the opportunity to play alongside many artists that I consider to be legends: Toots and the Maytals, Beres Hammond, Sister Nancy, The Slackers, The Skatalites… When we get these opportunities we use it as a learning experience. We have ventured out on tours across the US and have been included on prestigious festival line ups such as Mountain Jam, Burlington Jazz Festival, Musikfest and more. It is also amazing to watch our fanbase gradually expand over the years.
AF: What can you tell us about The Big Takeover’s upcoming album?
NNR: We always feel that our upcoming release is the best work we have ever produced. This time around, we feel very comfortable and confident in saying that. We branched out and got outside producers and engineers to work on this album. Usually, we do it all independently and homegrown. We were able to work with David Baron, for example. He has produced and recorded songs and albums for people like Meghan Trainor, The Lumineers and Lenny Kravitz. He produced and recorded two songs on our upcoming record. We also have new members in the band that have been breathing new life into our writing process and taking on producer responsibilities. I love all the music on this record. We are experimenting with new sounds and styles and taking bigger risks. I think people who do not know us will enjoy it, and people who are anticipating the release will be pleased.
AF: When will the album be released?
NNR: We look forward to a fall release.
AF: How has your tour been so far?
NNR: We often take on national runs in the summer. This summer we decided to take a step back from that and focus on finishing the record and doing as much media appearances as possible. We have already done some amazing festival performances and look forward to the upcoming ones later in the season.
San Francisco’s The Y Axes latest album No Waves addresses anxiety – both personal and existential – with humor, nostalgic synths, and the kind of emo spirit any ’90s kid can respect. The band has a strong a visual component to its live performances, and we get to see some of that in a surreal new video for one of the album’s standout tracks, the wistful but energetic “Moon.”
In the video, bandmates Alexi Belchere (vocals), Devin Nelson (guitar / vocals), Jack Sundquist (bass), and Paul Conroy (drums) dream of leaving earth and watching it from afar, though they spend most of the time in bed, with subtle projections lighting up their faces. Belchere’s voice penetrates the darkness, her lyrics “I wish I was born a planet / Or a comet / Just me alone with the moon and space” matching time with the driving beat. She’s searching for absolution in obliteration, a shift in perspective that makes the drama on earth seem small and insignificant. Though she grapples with angsty feelings, the video – and the music – stay pretty light-hearted, breaking the fourth wall by its end to pan out on an epic pillow fight, the perfect release of all that internal struggle.
Watch our exclusive stream of “Moon” and read our interview with the band below.
AF: Alexi, you and Devin met at San Francisco State University over a decade ago. The Y Axes still live and work out of San Francisco. How has the city changed over the years?
ALEXI: The city’s changed completely into a San Francisco-style theme park. Superfically, it’s all there, with the Castro, Upper Haight, and Mission districts still standing, but behind every door you’ll find a pour-over cafe with neatly sanded reclaimed wood counters, and in front of that door is a homeless person in a sleeping bag curled up in a ball who can’t go inside for a glass of water.
Musically, we can always count on new bands forming every year. I can go to an awesome show every night, and I feel like the sense of community in the SF music scene is stronger than ever. Maybe it’s because the cost to live here is so high that if you’re making music you either put your whole self into it or you quit, so the musicians that are here are fiercely connected through that shared experience.
AF: How has the band’s music changed during that time?
DEVIN: Though the production quality has increased dramatically from album to album I think the core thesis of the music has remained the same. We have always strived to make fun cool pop music with a little bit of a hidden progressive edge but I think we’ve managed to refine the presentation.
AF: Y’all carry yourselves as a band with a sense of humor. How does that translate to your onstage personas? What can a fan expect from a live performance?
DEVIN: We are a band of awkward weirdos and our stage persona is a band of awkward weirdos powered up by music. We try very hard to simulate the quality of our recordings in a live setting while still bringing the energy. We love playing and I think that translates pretty well to what we do on stage. Also we have cool projections that add a visual component!
ALEXI: I feel like individually we can be silly but as a band we don’t have much of a sense of humor, but because of that we’re like all each other’s straight man. I tend to tell some quick stories in between songs if I need to stall for time, and life is so ridiculous that they can feel like jokes. “This song is about feeling so crushed by the weight of the world you can’t get off the floor” usually gets a laugh. Maybe it’s because there’s something knee-jerk funny about talking about that kind of stuff.
AF: Can you tell us a bit about the themes on your recent album No Waves?
ALEXI: A lot of No Waves focuses on looking inward in response to outward struggles. Songs like “The Gap in Between,” “Another Timeline,” and “Empty Space” are about anxiety and self-doubt. Songs like “How We Begin,” “One of Us,” and “Nevertheless” are about coming to terms with the horrors of the world around us – honestly, they’re contemplations about coming to terms with my own privilege, how on an individual level I must use it to amplify and lift others up.
AF: What is your favorite part about performing as a band?
ALEXI: I feel truly honored to play with such talented and passionate musicians. On stage, I can’t help but get absorbed in what everyone else is doing – watching Devin do a solo or thrashing around, watching Jack simultaneously grooving and headbanging, and watching Paul nail a particular fill, it always gets me pumped. My favorite thing about performing personally is connecting with people as they sing the lyrics back- that’s a dream come true for me.
AF: How do you see The Y Axes evolving in five years? Are there any goals you have as a band or projects you’re dying to work on someday?
DEVIN: I think the main goal at the moment is to expand our touring. We would love to play in places besides the west coast but haven’t reached the point where we can afford to just yet. Maybe we will blow up or maybe the economy will shift to better support art so we can quit our day jobs. Regardless we are committed to making stuff happen on this front!
Y AXES TOUR DATES
7/31 – San Francisco, CA @ Rickshaw Shop
8/02 – Seattle, WA @ Barboza
8/03 – Portland, OR @ Kelly’s Olympian
Brooklyn electro group Late Guest at the Party taps into the carefree, house-inspired rhythms, glistening synth lines, and instantly recognizable lyrical themes that ushered electronica into crossover pop in the ’90s – surely a golden era for club jams if ever there was one. While their sound seems to have solidified around that nostalgic inspiration, it truly took hold with the arrival of Beth Hansen – the proverbial “late guest” to the party started by three Italian dudes (Gabri, Ian, and Renzo) back in 2005. They’d released a couple of LPs with producer Caleb Shreve at the helm, but Hansen absolutely transformed the band, infusing it with earnestness and energy.
Their latest string of singles graces listeners with thoughtful hooks, catchy concepts, smooth synths, and danceable beats, and the newest of these, premiering exclusively on Audiofemme, is “Bend,” a song that combats codependent tendencies and internal intimacy issues in an infectious, danceable package. “Why do you find it so hard to be by yourself?” Beth croons in her androgynous timbre, making the track feel intimate, like an inner monologue. The pulsating beat drops out here and there but always returns, keeping things grounded and thoughtful.
“Bend” will resonate with any Brooklynite who’s found themselves raving until the sun comes up, swaying and swerving at an abandoned Bushwick warehouse, only to feel totally alone with their racing emotions as the dawn reveals the dissonance. We sat down with Beth to discuss the evolution of LGATP, the group’s songwriting style, and the inspiration behind the new single.
AF: The band has been together since 2002, Beth when did you step in as the lead singer?
BH: I stepped in late 2016 after writing “Give You A Life” with Renzo. Late Guest had started thinking about playing live again, and when he asked me to sing live for them I countered with joining them full time. I missed having a band.
AF: How did the sound evolve once you joined?
BH: Renzo and Gabriel had developed many tracks to bounce off of, and with their production and my voice, I pushed us into a more ’90s sound. I get to use a big voice and Renzo has a largely sample-based production.
AF: What does it feel like being the front person in the often male dominated genre of electro dance rock?
BH: I spent almost all of my childhood trying to find a band, and was often rejected being a young girl. It’s great now to be the loudest one in the group and I often get to bring in other women to work with us. Happily, I think fans of the band have only been excited to have me as the new vocalist.
AF: Can you discuss the origins of “Bend”?
BH: I’m still writing the insecurities of my first love despite having many longer and deeper relationships. The worries still come up. I want to make those insecurities as clear as Haddaway would when singing “What is love / Baby don’t hurt me, no more” – but I want you to get over the insecurities with me throughout the song.
AF: Late Guest At The Party resonates deeper concepts that provoke thoughtfulness and courage, while remaining playful and digestible. Can you talk about the themes you explore lyrically?
BH: I tend to explore the more bitter or cheeky thoughts that I have. They are less treated or metaphorical than many dance pop songs. “Give You a Life” is both about having depression and naively trying to push someone out of their depression. “Add It Up” is the only way I could think of yelling “I fucking love you, don’t you see?” I sometimes sneak my girlfriend’s name into the song when I sing it live. “Bevel” was me working through the feelings of being unable to directly empathize. I think it’s one of the most positive songs I have written.
AF: How would you describe your songwriting process?
BH: In general we write in small groups usually, using a started track from Renzo. “Bevel” was written with Renzo, Gabriel, Ian and I all together in one weekend. I would love to do this more. Until then, we have a studio we go to whenever possible – we all just have different schedules. I write lyrics almost everywhere. I’m usually singing out loud on a walk to the train.
AF: Who are your top three artists that have influenced your writing and performances?
BH: Lately, Jamie Principal (lyrics and melodies), Nation of Language (performance), and I’m gonna put Queen Sessi in here. We worked with her on “Bend” and honestly she really helped me to get out of a writing rut. Just seeing her run through different melody ideas effortlessly is inspiring.
Gideon King & City Blog, the critically-acclaimed New York jazz/ rock fusion act, teamed up with Elliott Skinner of Thirdstory to release the beautifully painful single “Audience of One.” Skinner’s trademark wince and emotive vocals loom delicately over King’s grounded jazz guitar. In their video premiering today, a live studio session captures the pair’s passion and chemistry heard within the textured track.
Here, King talks about recording the song, working with Elliott Skinner and what’s up next for Gideon King & City Blog.
AF: How did you link up with Elliott Skinner for “Audience of One”?
GK: A great singer I’ve worked with, Grace Weber, said she thought Elliott had this beautiful and soulful style of singing. So I checked him out. Grace was right. The guy is unique in the way he approaches singing. [The] talented cat he is, he ended up singing on my first CD and I hit him up again to do this tune. He can always sing my stuff – makes me look better.
AF: You’re gearing up to release some new music. Will it be a full project or singles?
GK: Yeah, I have written a bunch of new stuff. I will probably release some singles. On the other hand, this paradigm of releasing singles sometimes feels empty to me, as there seems to be less of a premium placed on creating a full expression, a full album. Not sure what to do.
AF: With this video, we get to see an intimate live session of the song. What was recording it like?
GK: Just as you see it. The tune just flows. It’s not meant to be “in time” or perfect or anything. Just a passing declaration of some form of desperation.
AF: What else are you currently working on?
GK: Well, we are working harder and harder at becoming a unique live act, a differentiated kind of crossover music presentation. I’m certain what I just said means nothing. This is our problem – we lack meaning.
AF: You’ve created music with several acclaimed acts. What’s one thing you’ve learned from working with a variety of talented people?
GK: To listen to their suggestions and incorporate at the very least a touch of their bent into my bent.
Though she’s not quite 25, Troi Irons has lived a lifetime of experience in the music industry already, having arrived in Los Angeles as a preteen and quickly getting caught in its clutches. Once signed to a major label, Irons is now fiercely independent, having released two EPs (Turbulence in 2016, and ANTIHERO last year).
Her next project, Lost Angels, takes a hardened look at sycophants and starfuckers, her jaded lyrics intensified by her hard-rocking sonic influences. Its self-produced title track, premiering exclusively on Audiofemme, offers a first glimpse at the album as a whole; the song bursts with emotion and depth and follows her last single, “Strangers,” released earlier this year.
Here, she opens up about her long-awaited debut album, directing the upcoming “Lost Angles” music video, and expressing her self-discovery journey through her art. Stream her new single and check out her interview below.
AF: Congrats on your new single! Tell me about “Lost Angels.”
TI: Thanks. “Lost Angels” is the title track off my upcoming debut album. It’s a signal flare for every alienated person in the middle of it all, who sees the bullshit and is not at home in this weird world.
AF: What can you tell me about your upcoming album?
TI: It’s a concept album – a modern take on the parable of the prodigal son. It begins at the end, summarizing what’s transpired. The second song starts at an LA party and the album journeys through alienation, arrogance, love, self-harm, religious anxiety… the clicking point is when the main character cuts out all the noise and distraction during a rock concert and realizes what really matters. Then there is a shedding of old ways and rebirth. The last song is called “Home.”
AF: Will fans see a video for “Lost Angels” any time soon?
TI: Yes! The “Lost Angels” video will be my directorial debut and it’s been rad putting it together. It’s crazy because I was producing, styling, mood boarding, writing treatments, doing everything for my previous videos but I would give the director title away to some “experienced” guy. Only I know the story so it makes sense that I should tell it how I see it. I drew inspiration from Rene Magritte and the Galerie d’Apollon as well as Judy Blame.
AF: What most inspired this track? Living in LA?
TI: It’s really about growing up in the industry and in LA. I moved to LA to attend college at 12 so that’s what LA meant to me at first – it was school. Once I turned 15, it really hit me that I was forming the rest of my life and paying thousands of dollars for it and I wasn’t sure I liked the path I was laying. It gave me anxiety. I felt incredibly suicidal. No one knew but I was constantly stoned during my last two years. I would smoke on the rooftop and stare down at all the little ants scurrying from class to class. I thought about jumping. Who do you run to? How do you say, ‘I love learning and I have this incredible opportunity but I’m terrified of debt and I don’t know about my major and it’s moving too fast.’ That sounds so spoiled.
Then there was the industry. I got into the industry because I picked up the guitar while I was waiting for school to start. And the industry is weird because it’s nothing like college or a linear job where you work hard and you move up. It’s like you work hard and you try to make the right choice but people are snakes. Everyone wants to be a star – especially the suits. Everyone wants to be rich, and no one says what they mean. For shits and giggles, while school and the industry are happening, you throw in coming of age and you’re lost. You know who you are but not where you are. Nothing is home. No one is trustworthy.
“Music as background to me becomes like a mosquito, an insect. In the studio we have big speakers, and to me that’s the way music should be listened to. When I listen to music, I want to just listen to music,” David Lynch told The Independent in 2013. Grizzly Coast’s latest music video for “Half-Light Boy” draws on Lynch’s 90s TV classic Twin Peaks, employing more than just the show’s aesthetic by mirroring the foreboding, skin prickling plot in timber as well as tone.
Grizzly Coast, the project of singer-songwriter Alannah Kavanagh, grabs attention from her first sweet, passive aggressive coo; the song is a kind of time vortex, instantly reminding the listener of young romances embroiled in misunderstanding. “Broke my patterns / have I not earned your words,” Kavanagh pleads with her lover, attempting to regain favor. “Half-Light Boy” has a winning restraint to it, the quiet angst that accompanies the slow death of intimacy.
Watch the exclusive AudioFemme premiere of “Half-Light Boy” and read our interview with Alannah below.
AF: Tell us about your new single “Half-Light Boy.” The music video is super dark and dreamy.
AK: Half-Light Boy is a song I wrote when I realized that not everyone you meet will have the same heart as you do. The lyrics explore the idea that someone else’s small capacity for caring for you is due to something lacking in them, and not an expression of what you deserve. I tried to illustrate this by exploring the aftermath of a scene where I felt insignificant in the eyes of someone I held a candle for. With the video, which was very much inspired by David Lynch’s spooky ’90s TV Show Twin Peaks, I had a lot of fun running with the idea of using the visual metaphor of being haunted by a ghost to make the lyrics hit harder.
AF: What is the songwriting process normally like for you? Do you start with a line, a general theme, or with the music itself?
AK: Songwriting is by far the most fulfilling part of the process to me, and the way I go about it changes from song to song. There are times that I do just go in with a general theme I’ve been aching to write about, but there are others where I sing stream of conscious lyrics along with my guitar to just see what presents itself. Sometimes, when I’m really lucky with the latter approach, a song will essentially pour out in its full form. These are typically the best ones and I’ll never know where they come from.
AF: You’re from Toronto. What’s the music scene like there?
AK: The Toronto music scene is welcoming and cool as hell. What I love about living in the city is the sheer number of different types of shows that happen every night of the week. There’s always something to go to!
AF: What’s your favorite local music venue?
AK: It really depends on what you want to see. But I’d have to say that the Horseshoe Tavern is my favorite. It’s always a good night there, they host killer bands!
AF: Name a book or painting or record you regularly come back to for artistic inspiration.
AK: I’m not big on re-reading books, but I’ll typically underline sentences and passages of what I’m reading if I feel like they speak to me in some way. Two books I’ll often check back on to see what I underlined are Just Kids by Patti Smith, and The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. Both are centered on the journey of what it takes to make it and feel fulfilled living as an artist.
AF: What artists do you have on rotation right now? Anyone new we should have on the radar?
AK: I’m currently into this Toronto artist named Lenny Bull. I saw her live show a while ago and was totally blown away by her entire deal. In my rotation though, Hard Bargain by Ron Sexsmith has been on repeat. I’m also super into the new Julia Jacklin album, Crushing.
“Half-Light Boy” will appear on Grizzly Coast’s forthcoming LP later this year. Check her out live at one of the dates below.
GRIZZLY COAST TOUR DATES:
4/19 – London, ON @ The Rec Room
5/6-12 – Toronto, ON @ Canadian Music Week, TBD
5/22 – Edmonton, AB @ Sofar Sounds
5/19 – Burlington, ON @ TBD
We spoke to Montreal-based hip hop artist Shades Lawrence about her new single, “Turn My Head.” The queer love track rocks ’90s hip hop vibes and flips the heteronormative love song narrative. Shades channels her spoken word roots as she describes the butterflies surrounding a budding romance, assisted by Emma Maryam with soulful vocals. The single is part of a tantalizing lead-up to the release of her EP, Second Life, due out in June.
Besides her music, Shades has made a name for herself in Montreal for her ambitious efforts to provide platforms for female and non-binary musical talents, as well as for womxn of color. She regularly organizes and co-presents events for advocates of mental health, the women and non-binary artist showcase, Sister Singer, as well as a DJ night for black womxn DJs, called Sister Spinner. She also recently brought together the Lux Magna Festival, curated to highlight the creative talents of womxn of color.
As a lyricist who is in touch with the needs of her community and a dedication to being transparent in her work, Shades brings a fresh and necessary narrative to the music scene in Montreal and beyond. Listen to “Turn My Head” below and check out our interview with Shades for more details on the inspiration for the track, her upcoming EP, and her activism.
AF: Congratulations on your new single! Was it a specific relationship or story that inspired it?
SL: Thank you! Yes, “Turn My Head” is based on 3 [to] 4 different relationships that I progressed through. I thought for simplicity’s sake to combine similar experiences into one song and narrative.
AF: “Turn My Head” flips the hetero narrative normalized in most love songs. As a queer hip hop artist and a woman, how do you make sure your music stays true to you and what would you tell another artist or woman who’s feeling boxed into certain roles or stereotypes?
SL: I speak from my experience of life and tell stories that reflect my reality. I find it important to be as genuine and authentic as possible in the music I write and release. Additionally, coming from a mixed-race background, I’ve always almost intuitively avoided boxes and labels as much as possible, but at the end of the day, folks are going to have an impression of me that is based on their reality. So for me, freedom from stereotypes is about letting go of what I can’t control and focusing on my music and my art.
AF: Will there be a visual coming out for the song?
SL: A visual is in the works. Will keep you posted!
AF: Tell me a little bit about what fans can expect from your upcoming EP. When’s it coming out?
SL: My EP Second Life is coming out June 7th and it is a diverse representation of my influences. There’s a dancehall/Latin infused track that speaks of my origins; there’s storytelling aspects to another track. And there are songs that make a political statement, all with beats that are catchy. I am so excited for this release.
Shades Lawrence / Photo by Stacey Lee.
AF: When did you start practicing spoken word and when did that evolve into your rapping career?
SL: I started practicing spoken word in early 2015. Emma Maryam, who is the featured artist on “Turn My Head,” was actually at one of my shows the second or third time I performed poetry. In 2016, I had a collaborative spoken word show called “Extreme States” with Carole TenBrink in the Montreal Fringe Festival. I thoroughly enjoyed that experience. After having put together a complete spoken word project, I realized that I love the interaction with music so much, so I decided to cross over to hip hop, which was one of my original passions from when I was growing up.
AF: You’re well-known in Montreal for your activism and events that empower women. Tell me a little bit about these events, what they mean to you, and how you hope to help others.
SL: Two of the events I’m currently involved in organizing are Sister Singer and Sister Spinner. Sister Singer is a platform to highlight womxn and non-binary musical talent based in Montreal. Sister Spinner creates dance parties that feature all black womxn DJs. I was also recently asked to curate a show for the Lux Magna Festival in Montreal. We chose to feature womxn of color in the lineup.
I am proud of these undertakings because I know that womxn and non-binary artists, especially of color, have so much to contribute to our cultural landscape. It is also important to create these spaces and feature artists from underrepresented communities, since it provides opportunities for growth, while also enriching audiences and the music industry as a whole.
AF: Who are some artists you look to for inspiration?
SL: The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill informed much of my youth. Lyrically, I would say André 3000. Content-wise and stylistically, currently I quite enjoy Shad (a Canada-based MC).
AF: Anything else you’d like to add?
SL: I am grateful for platforms, such as Audiofemme, that provide a space to share a bit of my process and the backstory behind the music. Enjoy “Turn My Head (feat. Emma Maryam)” and thank you!
Ticket Giveaways
Each week Audiofemme gives away a set of tickets to our featured shows in NYC! Scroll down to enter for the following shindigs.
