Feel like taking a musical voyage? Zula has got you covered with their psych pop jam “Basketball.”
While figuring out exactly what their genre is (experimental? psych pop? synthpop?) might not be entirely possible, it’s fun to get lost in their sound. It’s the sort of music that swirls around in your headspace, leaving you temporarily lost in the music—it’s the perfect place to forget about your daily worries and just relax. Their rhythms are intricate, their synths are plentiful, and their vocals are entrancing. This Brooklyn group is one you want to get familiar with, especially before the release of their full-length Grasshopper on August 26.
The second the spiraling music of Sleigh Bells starts and the distant “Uh-oh’s” sound, it’s apparent that “Hyper Dark” is a more than appropriate name for this new release. It’s a whole new sound from their past work, which is more upbeat and in-your-face, but it’s definitely a side of Sleigh Bells that we’ve been craving without even realizing it.
“Hyper Dark” is a slower piece that feels like it’s working toward something huge from the get-go. It gets in your head and builds you up until you’re sitting up straighter in your chair, waiting on the edge of your seat for the action. And when it doesn’t quite come, you realize that was never the point of the track anyway. Then you listen to it again, because you can’t and don’t want to shake a quality track.
Get caught up in Sleigh Bells’ new whirlwind of a song “Hyper Dark” as you patiently await the release of their upcoming fourth album.
Following the release of last year’s energetic single “Silver Streets”, Thomas Killian McPhillips VII, Derek Tramont, and Ryan Colt Levy of BRAEVES zealously uprooted themselves from the familiarity of New York to explore how the band could flourish with a little change in scenery.
“When the prospect of moving to LA came up,” said Tramont, “It was a lightning bolt that hit us so hard, we just picked up and drove across the country together, practically no questions asked.”
And “Bitter Sea” makes it clear: California sun sure suits them well.
Equal parts love letter and break-up song, the track illustrates a bittersweet goodbye to a personified New York City.
“We were kind of at odds with the New York music scene, partly because we have been living and playing in New York all our lives,” recounts Tramont. “It could have been Chicago, London, or Portland. I’m sure you would grow tired of your hometown; that’s just natural. But we felt a bit of a disconnect. Whether it was some of the bands we played with, the venues, or the real lack of a music ‘scene,’ something just felt like it was holding us back from truly expressing ourselves.”
It’s a new kind of relationship they’re developing with LA, as the band “really needed something that would make us feel like we were growing and not just stagnating…something drastic needed to change to get us to the place we want to be.” But while BRAEVES may be based on the West Coast now, lyrics such as, “And the more my body tells me I’m entranced/The deeper in your quicksand I’ll descend” show that even if you leave New York, it never quite leaves you.
Recorded at Red Rockets Glare with Raymond Richards (known for his work with Local Natives, whom the band often cite as a key influence), “Bitter Sea” illustrates a fresh vivacity and prowess that were never lacking in older songs, but rather, have been elegantly refined. It has BRAEVES sounding refreshed without straying from the soulful and shimmering echoes that define their ethereal sound, and it has us eager for their forthcoming sophomore EP.
Stream the track below, and if you’re on the West Coast, catch them live, where you certainly won’t be disappointed. Plus, you might just be lucky enough to hear even more new songs:
Leave it to my favorite electro-pop duo to release a dance track contemplating the turmoil of running the rat race that challenges the suffocation of creative freedom by means of societal survival. Valley Hush debuted “Iced Cream” earlier this week, a mesmeric track that encapsulates Alex Kaye and Lianna Vanicelli’s fluid aesthetic of dancing the line between struggle and release with an undeniable melancholic pop magnetism. Although there is no mention of the beloved confectionery treat, the songs message is the equivalent to the sticky sweetness of a melted cone between your fingers; a life that is satisfying but not without the perpetual stickiness to make you wish you had a napkin, or rather, make you wish you didn’t care about the mess. Following the same sensational trajectory of their last single “Iris”, “Iced Cream” picks up with the similar jutting, well-traveled mash-up of worldly tones and beats but this time delves deeper into self-induced sadness.
The most marveling element of “Iced Cream” is the marriage between lyrics and Vanicelli’s vocals. Opening with the line “I’m a human being/not a machine/I will eventually tire/of this silly maze” we are lead through a poetic display of personal disappointments and misappropriated life goals: how it feels vs. how it should feel. Vanicelli insinuates traditional accomplishments (“a college degree/a job with a salary”) act as life altering barriers between exploring the truer parts of self and feeling successful; an internal melting and re-freezing, only to melt again. These vulnerable truths through airy and choppy vocals feel like a privately shared secret discovery, though not confessional or dangerous. Valley Hush invites us to share a spoon and indulge in their existential crisis sundae that wakes our inner demons with a sensual tenderness that is usually reserved for licking our fingers clean, as not to leave a trail of sweet cream behind.
Once hailed “The Best Band That Doesn’t Have an Album” pysch-rockers Mountains and Rainbows can finally re-categorize themselves. After bouncing around for almost a decade with nothing but a cassette tape and some scattered demos, Mountains and Rainbows caught the ears of Thee Oh Sees frontman John Dwyer after sharing a bill with the head rattling 70s art punk revivalist foursome last year. Dwyer signed them to Castle Face Records and released their double debut LP Particles last month. Particles is more than an album, though. It’s a transient, transcendent head trip that sweats and absorbs in equal measure. There is a boldness to the album as an adventure through time and memory, trailing across stateliness and atmospheric boundaries, that convinces you to overturn yourself as if you were some government implemented barrier between happiness and obligation. Particles is salty and dry, thirst inducing and never quenching. It is that very thirst that makes Mountains and Rainbows’ long awaited exploration of chaos so surprisingly satisfying. It’s a high without the hangover.
It’s hard to consider the album as individual tracks. The songs blend together, not monotonously or statically, but with a meticulously reckless smashing. Each song strikes one another forcing tinier and finer divides like an astral phenomena we read about but never actually see. Sludgy, strung out Velvet Underground-esque track “Fancies” breaks the album up and clocks in at just over ten minutes. It’s anxious and uneasy and feels more like a band warmup where the instruments sound like vocals and the vocals are a series of warbled announcements. This is a complete departure from the bouncy beach party track “How You Spend Your Time,” which is tightly composed and fulfills the albums strained pop tendency. Mountains and Rainbows play with distance and warped dissonance, which invites a cosmic spacial awareness that lends itself to feeling like fabric ripped at the seams. Drums seem to interrupt, the guitars are manic and distressed and the bass is spastically metallic. These elements crowd the vocals in such a way that it often feels like attempts to suffocate, but also is aurally victorious at regaining breath. Considering it is their first “proper” release, Particles is a fully formed thought that is not for the faint of heart, rather for those whose heart beat persistently askew.
Beverly Johnson is Bevlove, Detroit‘s premier pop goddess. She writes. She sings. She’s changing the game. Produced by SYBLYNG and Assemble Sound and directed by Detroit visual wonder-kids The Right Brothers, “Do What I Say” dropped last night at midnight. Relevant both conceptually and sonically, the track proves that Bevlove is more than a breakthrough, she’s a wrecking ball.
“DWIS” acts as a seductive instructional and a warning for future lovers, victims and anyone who dare take on Bevlove on the streets or in the sheets. “DWIS” could easily be the sequel to Rihanna’s “Bitch Better Have my Money” and the video could be the more sinister, less PG sister to rival girl-gang in Taylor Swift’s “Bad Blood.” The video features some of Detroit’s favorite bad girls following behind leading lady Love with torches and man eating scowls, ready to attack. Flashing to smokey dance scenes and the ultimate pink confetti girl party. Where “DWIS” bares its visual duality is when we see Bevlove in bed with white feathers floating around her lingerie clad angel self, making us believe she is to be trusted. But we know better. Bevlove uses her vocals as a Trojan horse, delivering the lyrics “Such a fucking lady/tonight I’m going to take control.” Her voice breaks into another stratosphere, departing from her hardened hip-hop cadence to reveal ethereal tones and a richness that Beyoncé herself would envy. The song is perfectly crafted with everything that makes a song raunchy yet radio ready and impossible to shake from your head. The catchy hook, the bass beat and choppy hip-hop delivery is current enough to blend in and original enough to set its own precedent for badass-ery. The video celebrates women and flips the script on sex, desire and not taking shit. Bevlove is a great reminder of why you should get you a girl that can do both.
[fusion_builder_container hundred_percent=”yes” overflow=”visible”][fusion_builder_row][fusion_builder_column type=”1_1″ background_position=”left top” background_color=”” border_size=”” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” spacing=”yes” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” padding=”” margin_top=”0px” margin_bottom=”0px” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_direction=”left” hide_on_mobile=”no” center_content=”no” min_height=”none”]Photo by Chantal Elise as part of the “In the Band: Michigan Music Behind a Feminist Lens.” For more of her work, head to www.chantalelise.com.
If Siouxsie Sioux and the cast of Hedwig and the Angry Inch shared a seedy punk venue greenroom where they exchanged Bowie impressions and candy necklace bites, you might have a slight grasp on what Dear Darkness sounds like. Self-described as somewhere between “kitsch and oblivion,” Detroit drama queens Stacey MacLeod and Samantha Linn released their latest pleasantly demented and perfectly untamed EP Get it Here earlier this week. This perplexing polyamorous marriage of grit, grime, glitter and gorgeously unique explorations of voice (both internal and external) revel in a self-made turbulence much like a wave pool in a motel bathtub.
Don’t mistaken aforementioned “kitsch” as a dismissal of sincerity. Although riotously playful, Get it Here provokes a teeth grinding, guttural exorcism that just happens to be covered in frosting and sprinkles. Lyrically, the EP kicks and screams but not without cracks where a beautifully strange vulnerability pushes through. The swollen, voice breaking delivery of the lyrics: “Why don’t you notice me? I’m right here” from the track “You Ain’t Tried it With Me” encompasses the tug-of-war vibe of the entire collection. The drums are scathing, the guitar restless. and the warbled and tortured ferocity of MacLeod and Linn’s harmonizing fuse to redefine punk, pop and human fragility in one fell swoop. Yes, the EP is shockingly consistent but that observation seems to belittle the entirety of what Dear Darkness is attempting to do here. More than consistency, what they’ve managed to do in five songs and under 18 minutes is, above all else, really fucking special.
Indulge in Dear Darkness’s rare breed of strange on “Get it Here” below:
Brooklyn-based songstress VÉRITÉ creates empowering, emotion-packed music that has a tinge of surrealism, which can best be seen through her latest EP, Living.
The EP kicks off with “Constant Crush,” starting out slowly then steadily building up, both as a song and as a perfect intro to the album. It features Kelsey Byrne’s hauntingly beautiful vocals over an almost dark and foreboding backing. From there it moves onto single “Underdressed,” which tells a vulnerable story shielded by poppy synths and a danceable beat. “Rest” is a perfect midpoint for the EP and is where it changes from a typical synthpop album to one that holds a more eclectic sound. It’s easy to see that Byrne takes inspiration from other genres, like R&B, and weaves that into her tracks “Rest,” “Gesture,” and “Living.” From the beginning of the album to the end, it changes from upbeat singles to a collective piece of varying sounds, showing that Byrne’s isn’t willing to be confined to just one genre.
I was able to sit down and chat with Kelsey for a bit about her new EP as well as her musical influences.
Nicole for AudioFemme: You recently released your EP Living. What were your inspirations behind it?
VÉRITÉ: It’s strange in the writing process because you don’t think that much during it. I think it came together more in the editing process where I was taking moments and hyper-analyzing them and blowing them up. There weren’t any specific inspirations, and it was more me wanting to push myself and elevate myself.
I do a similar thing when writing. Like when I’m editing, it all comes together and seems to make more sense then.
Yes, exactly.
What sort of headspace were you in when you were coming up with the EP? I know you said you didn’t have any specific inspirations or a “Eureka!” moment, but was there anything that led you to these songs?
This was really the first time in my life that I had time to write. It’s an odd struggle to have—the luxury of time. It’s difficult, and there was a lot of anxiety and hyper-analyzing. I was really neurotic about it.
What is your favorite song off the EP?
They’re all my babies. I want to give five different answers. When I wrote Living, it was a good moment for me in life. I wasn’t hiding behind anything, and it really shows when I perform. I love them all.
I had a feeling that was the case! Is there anything you wanted fans to get out of your new EP?
My goal is to have people feel anything. I don’t care what they feel—hopefully it’s not violent anger—but any sort of emotions. I don’t want them to feel nothing.
Do you think your sound has evolved since starting out and the release of your EP?
I hope so. I think that with this EP especially I wanted to move away from “electro-pop.” It’s easy to get lost in the alt pop world. I wanted to really push it sonically. “Gesture” was more laid-back, “Living” is a downtempo R&B style. I was trying to really push it more.
What does your musical history look like? And what brought you to writing and performing?
Performing was always in my nature. I’ve been playing little shows since I was eight or nine when my dad was my band. I lived in a small town in upstate New York, and it was a conducive environment for that. I began writing more at 16 and 17. I developed this probably more into how I want to be interpreted. It’s been a slow process.
If you could collaborate with anyone—living, dead, whatever—who would that be?
Oh shit. Loaded question. Just, so many. I feel like lately my number one is James Blake. I feel like I’m supposed to say The Beatles or something, but based on what I’m listening to right now, I’d have to go with him.
Tell me about your plans for upcoming shows and releases.
Right now it’s just mainly finishing my current tour. Chicago last night was incredible, and I’m going from Minneapolis to Seattle to LA. I’m holding off on doing any festivals this summer and am focusing more on an album. I’m slowly plotting for future plans.
English duo Slow Club are back with a new folksy single, and it’s exactly the sort of song you needed to improve your week.
Slow Club are experts at creating music that helps you slow down and get a little introspective, offering the pause that we tend to be oh-so hesitant to take. And “Ancient Rolling Sea” is no different in that sense. It starts off with a rustic, twangy feel and advances into a classic chilled out Slow Club tune. It primarily sees entrancing vocals from frontman Charles Watson alongside a heavy bassline that’ll reverberate within your core.
They’re currently touring through the UK, and we’re hopeful for an upcoming U.S. tour. For now, get your sway on to “Ancient Rolling Sea” below.
London-born, Seattle-raised and now here in Brooklyn – songstress Merrily James has a brand new track titled “Another Day” off her upcoming debut EP, “Opia,” set to drop June 3.
Since in Brooklyn, Merrily has collaborated with local favorites such as Brian Kelsey (Parlour Tricks) and Zac Taylor (American Authors) and even shared a stage with industry icons such as Bobby McFerrin and Phillip Bailey (Earth, Wind, & Fire). But we’re going to talk about her here.
“Another Day” is a comfortingly catchy indie pop tune, that along with being an impeccable selection for your summer playlist, shows off more impressive vocals than we’re used to hearing from up and comers. Her talent combined with knack for writing songs, that are delicious as ear candy yet resonate with realities and truth, is sure to secure grand things to come.
Merrily’s EP release show will be held at Rockwood Music Hall Sunday, June 5 with special guest performers Ross Clark from St Lucia and Lily Cato from Parlour Tricks. See you there, and listen to “Another Day” below.
If you were craving some imitation Pavement-esque languid LoFi rock, look no further than Ypsilanti-based Minihorse, who released their drowsy EP More Time earlier this month. Comprised of lead vocalist and guitarist Ben Collins, Christian Anderson on bass and John Fossum on drums, Minihorse is noticeably affected, pleasantly dehydrated college indie; nothing swells or lends catharsis, but instead encourages driving aimlessly around the same few square miles with a broken tape deck that you had installed in your new 2016 hybrid. The single, “FYEA” is a callused late-summer-of-1994 track that radiates a trippy teenage petulance worthy of a hangover. It’s catchy, yes, but hard to remember. The closing track, “Under My Head” is the most complete thought on the EP, with Jon Brion vibes paired with a whispered deprecation that sneakily depresses you with the lyrics: “The things I could be/if I could get out of bed.” More Time, at the very least, is consistent. Not meant to serve as some grand feeling-prodder, Minihorse found their sweet spot even if it does feels like buying expensive jeans with manufactured stains and holes; fashionably wearable with questionable authenticity. Having said that, I like More Time. I get it. It feels lightly stoned, slightly tipsy, peppered with a hazy self-indulgence that makes you wonder where you’ve heard this before even if you’ve never heard it before.
As your Monday descents into evening, spines uncurl from desk chairs, and you’re allowed to go where you want to be, allow Jinn Grin to ease the transition with the title track of his forthcoming EP, “The Answer.”
Jinn Grin is the solo project of Doug Stuart. Like a Hindu god or some sort of arachnid, Stuart has many (metaphorical) arms, which he make use of musically. If his name sounds familiar, it’s likely from his work playing bass for The California Honeydrops, Bells Atlas, or recent work as keyboardist for Astronauts, etc. Yet even many-armed gods and spiders need some me time, which is why Stuart took some to focus on his own vision – and in doing so gifted us with “The Answer.” Meditative yet energizing, it’s a celestial track perfect to take the office edge off and begin the passage home.
Celebrate Friday with a track premiere from Atlas Engine, “Everest,” from his upcoming EP “After the End.”
Atlas Engine is the solo venture of Nick LaFalce, formerly of BRAEVES. With this new project, LaFalce undertakes the task of writing, singing, performing each instrument, and producing to conceive a skillfully crafted effort that is truly all his own.
With LaFalce belting out lyrics such as, “Something in the air I’m breathing must be forever changed/So tell me what I have to fear now,” over a stunning melody, the track emanates a sense of freedom, and an exciting anticipation for what’s to come.
The full EP is set for release on June 3. New Yorkers, you can catch Atlas Engine’s live debut (for free!) at Rockwood Music Hall Stage 2 on May 19.
Premiering today is Nashville-based West AM’s single “Honey.” Consisting of a crew of college kids, West AM creates intelligent pop music that will appeal to party goers and devout rock fans alike. True to form is their single “Honey,” set to be a staple on summer playlists.
“‘Honey’ is about the desire for something other than what we have. Hidden behind the behaviors discussed in the song is an inner search for peace, and I’m not sure if that’s a journey that ever ends. In my experience, nothing is quite as sweet as what you first imagined it to be,” said frontman Jordan Hamilton of the single.
There is nothing coy about Flint-based Cheerleader’s first full-length album, Bitchcraft. It is a riotous collection of defiant anti-apologies, that if delivered in any way other than Cheerleader’s impenetrable assault, would reinforce the very holding back they’re fighting against. Bitchcraft is the ultimate “fuck you” manifesto aimed to destroy, disarm, and devour the state of counterrevolution. Fully equipped with an advanced artillery of punk purism and unflinching feminism, Bitchcraft doesn’t knock. It grants itself permission.
The power of Christina “Polly” McCollum (lead vocals, guitar), Ashley MacDermaid (bass), and Nisa Seal (drums) is not contingent on image, labels or accessibility, rather their undeniable cohesion in being able to tear down the construct and crippling societal misogyny without compromising sincerity. The album opens with a shrill “WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR, HUH? WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?” which feels more like a dare than a question. The words bleed into the opening track “Beauty Queen” where McCollum delivers the first of many deafening blows with repeating the lines “I am more than my body.” Although the album clocks in just over 23 minutes, don’t mistaken its brevity for a shortcut. Quite the contrary. Cheerleader is free of filler or watery withdrawals, saying what needs to be said without finding polite euphemisms to spare feelings. Closing out the track “Friday Night Bites” during an Addams Family worthy bass line, McCollum exclaims: “No one cared about you then/no one cares about you now,” a testament to that one thing we have always wanted to say to that person we’ve always wanted to say it to. That’s the beauty of the anti-beauty of Cheerleader’s debut album. They have found a way to inspire without the squishy connotation.
To say this is an important record for women is like saying it’s wet when it rains. The overarching message of reprisal through rebellion and tenacity channeled by audacity is what, when conjoined with their tightly woven, Bikini Kill sludge, elevates Bitchcraft from an argument to an uprising.
Listen to Bitchcraft in its entirety here and check out the track “Beauty Queen” below:
To pick you up on this dreary Monday, we have “Sensations,” the lead single from Los Angeles alt pop artist Elohim‘s forthcoming self-titled debut EP.
The enchanting synth-driven track starts slow and picks up to a frantic climax, as Elohim admits: “I kind of like how it gives you chills.” The song explores themes of love and sex, and that one crucial ingredient for the blending of the two to take place: vulnerability.
[fusion_builder_container hundred_percent=”yes” overflow=”visible”][fusion_builder_row][fusion_builder_column type=”1_1″ background_position=”left top” background_color=”” border_size=”” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” spacing=”yes” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” padding=”” margin_top=”0px” margin_bottom=”0px” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_direction=”left” hide_on_mobile=”no” center_content=”no” min_height=”none”]Artwork was created by sculptor Clinton Snider and visual artist Tony Katai with help from Playground Detroit.
Multi-instrumentalist Alex Kaye and vocalist Lianna Vanicelli are Valley Hush, Detroit’s celestial pop duo whose flirtatious macabre swells in their latest single “Iris.” For a song that encapuslates escapism without sounding recklessness, “Iris” is a seamlessly produced mélange of jutting synths, animated chiming, and cosmic vocals that what at times feels like a marriage between Bollywood and Portishead on amphetamines.
“Iris” is a tempestuous seduction of straight lines and blurred edges that challenge the traditional trajectory of a sexy pop song. If rolling your hips in slow motion had a soundtrack, this would be it. In its provocation, “Iris” never feels cheap or expected. The track exudes an aural illusion of time being rewound and fast forwarded simultaneously, and reveals glimpses of the complete real-time picture, reminding us that the beauty of the track is in its visual symphony. Paired with the imaginative orchestration, Vanicelli’s voice quivers with a spacial lucidity through the airy phrasing of the lyrics: “I know that it can be hard to wake up/sometimes the nights are moving slow/you think you’re dying alone /and I know how the highs get low.”
There is never a moment in “Iris” that feels nostalgic. This comes as a compliment. Valley Hush found a space between the present and future, crafting a sensual purgatory that is as sincere as it is politely hedonistic.
During the Savannah Stopover festival, two women sit down late at night in a dimly lit park with a box of fried chicken. One of them is me, and she unceremoniously asks a series of interview questions through mouthfuls of greasy bird. The other, a dainty, stormy-eyed fawn of Czechoslovakian stock bearing a last name bursting with consonants, answers them comprehensively. Her name is Kristine Leschper and she is the vocalist and lead guitarist of the band Mothers, who released their debut album When You Walk A Long Distance You are Tired earlier this year to glowing accolades of music writers and regular-Jo(sephin)e listeners alike. Mothers is a composite of musical ideologies resulting from Athens GA’s storied art-school scene, folk composition, rocks both indie and math and even a smattering of prog polyrhythm. Everything you want to think about how mesmerizing Kristine is based on the music she makes is completely true. Here’s what I mean:
Joanie Wolkoff for AudioFemme: You guys are on the go these days.
Kristine Leschper: Even though I say I live in Athens, it doesn’t really feel like it; when I look at our spreadsheet, we’re touring 10 out of 12 months. It’s so nice when we’re home again, but it’s a rarity. It doesn’t feel like we live anywhere.
Do you like it?
It’s a lack of comfort but I like it.
Part of the lore surrounding the forming of Mothers is tied in with how you took a left turn from printmaking in college to music. How’s this shift to music treating you?
Suddenly we were just on tour forever! This came out of nowhere. Our drummer Matt wanted to sign a six month lease and we said, “We’d have to be touring so much for you to not sign that lease,” but then a month down the road we found out how much we’d be traveling and were like: “It’d be stupid for you to sign this lease.” So he doesn’t have a place right now. Which is cool for him.
Cool for him of cool of him?
I think it’s cool for him to not have a place right now, to be experiencing that. At the same time, though, I’m really glad I have a home.
How did you meet?
We were all just living in Athens and playing music. We knew what we were all up to and had mutual respect for each other, and we we were all into what the other was doing. It was organic.
What were you listening to while you taught yourself how to play guitar?
The Microphones’ The Glow Part 2 which is written in a linear style was a big thing for me. Just the fact that when they write songs they have an “anything can happen” outlook and it doesn’t have to be a specific structure. Also Don Caballero’s American Don and other mathier music with complicated rhythms.
Do you identify with art school rock? Prog?
Maybe a little bit. Mothers is really affected by things that were happening in Athens in the late seventies and early eighties, like Pylon who where college-aged visual artists and didn’t play any instruments, so it was this guessing game of self-taught musicians. It was this desire to figure something out without being properly taught. We’re tied into a lot of Athens’ songwriting history.
Do you write together?
We’re not really a band that can get together and stand in the same room and jam. It has to be more defined, so me and Matt, our drummer, get together, hash out what’s been in our heads and then bring it to the other guys later. Otherwise it risks never turning into anything. Me and Matt have been playing together for the longest as far as Mothers go. He was the first person that I really started playing music with; we have good chemistry musically.
Any contemporary musicians you’d like to collaborate with?
I would love to work with Spencer Seim, who played guitar in Hella and is active in a group called Spock. He’s just my favorite guitar player. I love everything that he does.
[fusion_builder_container hundred_percent=”yes” overflow=”visible”][fusion_builder_row][fusion_builder_column type=”1_1″ background_position=”left top” background_color=”” border_size=”” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” spacing=”yes” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” padding=”” margin_top=”0px” margin_bottom=”0px” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_direction=”left” hide_on_mobile=”no” center_content=”no” min_height=”none”][Looking down at my impromptu meal] I’m just eating this gross chicken because it’s warm and gives me heat on my hand. This biscuit tastes like car exhaust.
It looks great.
If you could sit at a table and eat bad friend chicken with someone who you’ve really drawn inspiration from, who would that person be?
Does it have to be a musician? E.E.Cummings was a big part of me discovering the written word, that led me to becoming a creative writer.
What feeds your writing when you develop song lyrics?
I tend to write about the human condition. I think the way we perceive the world through emotions is the most important part of how we experience the outside world. I want for people to get out of shaming others for hypersensitivity. I really respect people who are honest about their emotions. The way we relate to ourselves and other people is so much based on knowing that you’re going to die, the limits of being a person and stuck inside of this body.
What has sensitivity given you, and what has it taken from you?
Oh, it just takes everything away. Really. It makes everything hard. It’s given me a sense of purpose, I guess, which is shitty. To be overly analytical of everything that happens is something that I do to myself. I sort of like it though. I like to make things difficult for myself and see if art comes out of it. I’ve come to terms with sacrificing myself for art.
Do you think it’s your hardwiring or learnt behavior?
I think it’s just the way I am.
Look at your white sneakers!
They’re brand new. I thought I might be able to have fun if I bought white sneakers.
You appeared to be having fun at your backyard set earlier today in the Starland District. You move so nicely while you were performing. You push up on one toe and then lean into your strumming and it’s agreeable to watch.
Sometimes I’ll get really nervous and go through the first ten minutes of a gig without moving at all, and then I’m like, “Just tap your foot! Just bend your knee a little bit,” and then it works itself out.
What’s your relationship with your instrument like?
It’s one of the most important relationships in my life. We don’t sleep together but we’re very close. I got a headphone amp recently that only has enough wattage to send an output to headphones so you can play electric guitar in the back seat and no one else can hear you. It’s been a lifesaver on this tour… you can only sit in a back seat of a car feeling car sick for so long before you’re destroyed.
Do you have any rituals before gigging?
Just getting time alone, writing a set list. I love handwriting. It’s not carefully written every time but the hardest thing to do before a show is break away from a conversation you don’t totally want to be having. I have a hard time talking to people when I know we’re going on in five minutes. Sometimes it just means hiding in the bathroom for a bit.
What’s your musical map look like?
It’s self indulgent. One side is ego and the other side 9s doubt. You could see it as a Venn diagram.
Do you live in the middle of it where the two circles overlap?
No, I live on both sides, I go back and forth.
Who even lives in the middle? Life coaches?
Probably so.
2016 finds us toggling between the ego stroke and the ego…
Death. Everything is very personal in sort of a shitty way.
What do you do about that?
Exactly what I usually do.
Do you keep a finger on its pulse?
I feel that I’m very much out of the know. To an unfortunate extent at times. I’m sometimes too wrapped up in what I’m doing to understand what else is going on out there.
As for the great trope of musical womanhood, any closing words for female artists?
As far as all that, all I have to advise is to not let it affect you. People really have an issue with that and sometimes when they’re trying to be empowering they sort of victimize them saying things like “Oh, she really shreds!” in surprise, as if being a woman in the first place is this huge hinderance. It’ll do everyone a lot of good to not talk about gender in music so much. Women can play guitar just as well as men can. Just getting out of those ideas has been really important for me – not thinking of myself as a woman in music, but just thinking of myself as a musical person.
After our hiatus leading up to our makeover, AudioFemme is back – and so is New Music Monday. To celebrate our favorite column on the most hated day of the week, we have something extra lovely for you today. The debut single from Yumi Zouma is called “Keep It Close To Me,” from the band’s upcoming debut album Yoncalla out 5/27 on Cascine. Yumi Zouma consists of members Christie Simpson, Sam Perry, Charlie Ryder, and Josh Burgess.
The single is slated to put these “blog darlings” on the world map, and once you listen, you’ll understand why. A delicate, dreamy electro-pop track, “Keep It Close To Me” captures the beauty in sadness. “You never promised nothing, I always gave you something…” The song’s attitude is that of “whatever happens” and strength of self, that moment when things may not have played out as it seems, but there’s still reason to sing.
Daniel Grinberg’s full-length is just a pure, and melodic album. Daniel, along with vocalists Aveva Dese, Alex Moshe, and Yoav Arbel, create Short Stories. Each track is a brief, yet delicate peek into Grinberg’s illustrations of life. Produced by Maor Scwartzberg off of Green Tone Music, the project isn’t short of material. The mass of the album is passive, but by no means—idle.
“Old Town” visits his youth with friends, the wheat fields of his hometown, and what sounds like a girl he left behind. It was one of the tracks sung solely by Grinberg. “Michaela” starts off with violin and low cymbals; the lyrics are following this woman’s past and present, but not as cheerful or reminiscent as “Old Town.”
“Her children left home a long time ago- leaving behind, empty and sad,” lyrics suggest Michaela is a lonely woman. Who she is?—I don’t know. Can it be one of Grinberg’s friends, or even his own mother? In the next song “Thanks,” I can’t decide if he’s singing to a mother figure, or a woman of interest. “Thanks to your voice, thanks to your love,” he starts. “Thanks to your jokes, and your insights. Thanks to your love, your faith and trust… you give me life,” he continues. The album ends with him reiterating visions of love, acceptance, and hopefulness. What I’ve learned, is that Daniel celebrates the memories of his life from Buenos Aires to Tel Aviv. You can check out the first track, “80 Years,” below.
To begin with: Andy Ferro’s Dad. The man remembers the the first time Elvis Presley’s “Heartbreak Hotel” aired on Australian radio. But more importantly, he crammed his son’s young ears with as much jazz and blues as they could contain. Meanwhile, Ferro spent his childhood ping-ponging back and forth between the the UK and Nashville, where he’s planted his flag since the tender age of 10.
Today, Ferro’s hometown is teeming with artists drawing from the communal psych-folk pot, but Ferro’s austere creations err on the side of minimalism, which is why his forthcoming LP Muirhead might be the exact sort of winningly raggle taggle rarity your ears have been craving.
Inspired by White Fence’s Tim Presley and drawing insight from the likes of The Kinks, Capain Beefheart, Bob Dylan and 70’s Krautrock darlings Can, Ferro also cites his friend group, lady, and mentors as a primary source of artistic stimulation. These auspices can be warmly felt throughout his new lo-fi solo project, much like his off-kilter upbringing.
Crowning Ferro as AudioFemme’s February Artist of the Month, Joanie Wolkoff of Wolkoff, formerly of Her Habits, and Artist of the Month herself, Wolkoff shared a conversation with Ferro over his music, growing up, and what’s shaking these days in Ferro’s neck of the woods.
Joanie Wolkoff: How’s life in Nashville?
Andy Ferro: It’s growing really quickly now. There are a lot of good opportunities, but we’re dealing with traffic, which is a new thing. It’s an inspiring place to be, with lots of people doing great stuff. I don’t know what it’d be like to make music in a place where I wasn’t connected to my community. There’s a lot of… not competition, but I’d say that the bar is set high. It definitely makes you try harder. And I prefer the smaller hang; the typical Saturday night is about finding somebody’s house to have dinner at.
No all-night ragers or underground raves?
Oh, they happen. I’m just not there when they do.
What would you say is happening instrumentally on Muirhead?
It’s stark. There aren’t drums, or a lot of lead guitar or electric guitar at all, for that matter. I’m really into the Leonard Cohen and Syd Barrett solo records, and I recorded everything on the LP myself except for some of the weird noises and piano which were sourced by my friend Mitch Jones. As you can imagine, you run out of space pretty quickly when you’re only recording with a four track.
It’s a medium that could certainly account for your minimalism here.
Yeah, I just worked until I felt I’d done my part and then I took it to Mitch who put it on a computer and did a few things here and there; what he added brought a lot to the album [fusion_builder_container hundred_percent=”yes” overflow=”visible”][fusion_builder_row][fusion_builder_column type=”1_1″ background_position=”left top” background_color=”” border_size=”” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” spacing=”yes” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” padding=”” margin_top=”0px” margin_bottom=”0px” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_direction=”left” hide_on_mobile=”no” center_content=”no” min_height=”none”][Ferro’s voice cracks]… excuse my voice, I lost it two days ago and it’s only just coming back now.
The first time I ever lost my voice I was really excited because I thought it made me sound like a character I idolized on GI Joe, so when I got to school and spoke up in class I remember thinking, “Finally! I sound interesting!”
I know what you mean. I’d been sort of excited about losing my voice, like “Maybe when the release show comes around, I’ll have this gruff voice!” but I tried to sing some of my songs last night and it wasn’t working.
It makes you sound like you’ve been through a lot! Seasoned!
Ha. Seasoned.
Are all the the tracks on the LP tied into a theme or are they just moments in time for you?
It’s a story but not intentionally encoded that way. For example, the song “Crystal Tongue” is about being with my dad in Tennessee two Christmases ago. I woke up in the morning to the sound of his voice saying, “Merry Crystal Bum!” So I wrote this little poem in a card for my girlfriend about a child with a crystal bum. Anyway, later on I turned it into a song.
We also say “bum” in Canada, where I grew up. In America, people say “butt.” Anyway, if you close your eyes and look at a visual version of Muirhead, what do you see?
I can tell you easily. Since the beginning it’s been green. It feels like standing on a creaky, rickety boat dock thats rocking back and forth a little and it’s dusk. You can’t see the horizon across the water.
Tell me about your recording setup with the four track.
Most of it was at my girlfriend’s apartment. I hit this two-week window of time where she and her roommate were gone for the first part of the day and I didn’t have to go to work til mid-afternoon , so I would just sit there working on songs. My girlfriend lives on a main road, which is why you can hear cars and birds and stuff on the tracks. I’d already demo’d a few songs on Garage Band with iPhone headphones plugged into my computer.
Garage Band is a good, sturdy little donkey that’ll take you over the mountain. Some people get snobby about what “digital audio workstation” you use, but Garage Band’s so user friendly, and a great gateway drug into music production.
Absolutely, Garage Band is approachable. So then, I bought a four track from my friend David Stein, who sold it to me when I mentioned that I was looking to buy one. He said if I gave him a ride home, he’d sell it to me for $150.
Are you friends with your four track recorder?
Oh, man. I didn’t have any problems with it at all, besides not knowing how to use it and erasing bits of songs that I didn’t want to erase for the first little while. But now I feel comfortable with it. It opened the door.
How does your girlfriend help to shape your music?
Friends and family and the people I see every day are the primary source of influence on my music, aside from stuff I listen to. I want to articulate my girlfriend’s role in a good way: I’ve been playing with a band of best friends for a long time but this album was a first go at showing the public what I can make on my own. I don’t want this to sound like [Ferro uses a sappy voiceover drawl here], “Without love, I wouldn’t have written these songs.” But it certainly plays a role, this relationship, having someone so genuinely supportive and honest. It’s encouraging. For me, it’s a really sweet validation.
Give me three adjectives for this album.
Stark. In terms of instrumentation, anyway. And rich. Or… sorta thick in a way? The analog approach made it… textural.
It has teeth?
There you go.
How does the omnipotent beast that is the Nashville’s music industry affect your life as an artist?
It provides opportunities, but it’s up to me to take the right ones. This year I just want to make lots of music and share it with lots of people. I’m not gonna worry about quote-unquote success. That can stifle your creativity if you focus on it too much. At around fourteen, at which point I didn’t have an inkling that I’d end up playing in bands at all, I met my friend Mitch. He’s played in bands for almost as long as I’ve been alive, and that’s when I figured out about jamming. Later, I started going to college and my band Ranch Coast formed one semester into my studies. I didn’t want to do both. But I still try to learn every day.
What do you think you might’ve studied if you hadn’t pursued being in a band full time?
Philosophy. Or writing.
By osmosis of making and being around music, I’m pretty sure you do both of those things all the time!
I hope so.
Well, none of your songs are about going to the club and finding out who’s wearing the best thong. Then again, that’s its own philosophy.
An entrancing voice and charismatic presence are the perfect ways to define singer/songwriter Shira and her recent show at Rockwood Music Hall on January 26. Shira captivated the audience by playing tracks from her upcoming album, Subtle Creature, as well as chatting with the crowd in between each song.
Sitting on the stage basked in dark red and purple lights, she crooned and jammed out on guitar, breaking from her normal routine of sampling and electronic influences. She played singles like “Heartbeat is a Prisoner,” “Dark Snow,” and “Tiptoe,” making sure to provide a background on the process behind the songs and what they meant to her. It was a more intimate setting for what felt like a personalized show—watching her perform and engage with fans, you recognize immediately she isn’t holding back; she has an honest connection with music, and delivers it as such.
After seeing Shira perform, I pretty much knew I had to talk to her, even if just for a little bit. Luckily I got the chance to have a brief email interview with her, which can be seen below.
Nicole Ortiz for AudioFemme: I remember at your show you mentioned that you have an album coming up. Can you tell me about the album and the work that went into it? What’s your favorite song on the album?
Shira: I’m releasing “Subtle Creature” this August 2016! I’m so excited about it. It’s been two years in the making. I wrote primarily on the Roland-404 Sampler, then added a ton of textures: drums, electric guitars, synth, cello, horns. It’s turned out to be a really undefinable, genre-switching album. I got to work with some of my favorite artists: the sister-trio Joseph, Shannon F. of Light Asylum, Neon Music of Youthquake, Jamila Woods, Mal Devisa, and cellist Emily Dix Thomas. My favorite song is the title track. It’s eight minutes long—the longest song I’ve ever written and produced. It really got away from me and started doing it’s own thing. It’s got like four verses and two choruses and tons of swimmy instrumental sections! I tried to reign it in and hold it down, but it refused. I like work that guides the way and demands you to stretch. Now when I listen to it, I hear an epic. I trusted where it was going (eventually!), and it lead me somewhere far vaster, cooler, stranger.
NO: I know you’ve been considering making another music video as well with a director whose work really spoke to you. What do you hope to show through this collaboration?
S: I recently saw the video for the song “Relief” by Wilder Maker directed by Evan Cohen. It’s an incredibly patient, inventive video. We live and work in such a fast-paced culture that, to see a video that sort of asks the viewer to lean in, that doesn’t beg or hit over the head, really stayed with me. I immediately got in touch with Evan. We’re both excited to get lost in the creative process together, to make something tender and unexpected.
NO: During your show, you mentioned a song about your grandmother and also spoke openly about being diagnosed with bipolar disorder, which resonated with me as I’ve suffered from anxiety for most of my life. Do you think this awareness and openness come into play in your creating process? How do you think it affects your music?
S: If we’re lucky, our art makes us more honest. It demands us to look closer at ourselves and the world. There’s a realness, a rawness it desires. It acts like a friend who would never let us fool ourselves. I know that it’s a choice I make to reveal parts of my personal life, including my health, but in some ways I don’t feel I have a choice. To be quiet, or stealthy, about vital parts of my being feels like choking myself, my truth. It’s just a part of my nature—I feel compelled to be honest. I know that when we risk honesty, we reap intimacy. I have no shame about my mental illness, and I want to welcome others into the conversation. That’s why I speak about it. As for my music, it’s a literal record of my life—how amazing is that? To have a lifelong sonic diary. When I look back on my life, I’m excited to have literal “records” of 2002, 2006, 2010, and so on and so on. When I look back, I want to see/hear where I was at truthfully, not a costume of where I was at. This requires a certain willingness to be transparent and take risks.
NO: I see on your site that you also create poetry, art, offer classes, and have a zine—you’re kind of an artistic jack-of-all trades! Do you ever showcase these pieces as well? Which outlet do you feel the strongest connection with?
S: Each outlet fulfills a need. Sometimes I don’t want to talk or think or make a sound, so I draw. There’s a quiet, a privacy, that my whole being desires. That’s why I endeavored on my SQUARES project, a year-long visual diary built of 1 x 1 inch squares. To daily enter that quiet [fusion_builder_container hundred_percent=”yes” overflow=”visible”][fusion_builder_row][fusion_builder_column type=”1_1″ background_position=”left top” background_color=”” border_size=”” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” spacing=”yes” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” padding=”” margin_top=”0px” margin_bottom=”0px” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_direction=”left” hide_on_mobile=”no” center_content=”no” min_height=”none”][and] just be with myself. Sometimes I need to untangle a moment that got stuck—often that’s where poetry comes in. I’m working on a poetry manuscript, “Odes to Lithium,” which is entirely composed of praise-poems to the medication I take. Nearly every poem in that collection is me running my hands along a moment of stigma, mistreatment, or misunderstanding and breathing new understanding into it, or at least acknowledgement. Then there’s music—that’s like getting set loose in a candy store. I just lose myself. I never had a sister, so maybe it’s a bit like that, having a sister—I make a sound, [and] it becomes separate from me, almost like another’s voice. There she is—I listen to her, I hear what she has to say, I feel less alone. Ultimately it’s all about connection. Connection to myself. Connection to others. The Zine, the classes I teach, the work—it all fosters that, just from different angles.
NO: Do you have any other upcoming shows planned, or are you going to tour anywhere?
S: Yes! I constantly play in New York. You can always check my site for updates. I just got back from a month-long Writing Residency at Vermont Studio Center after touring the Midwest with Andrea Gibson. I’m cooking up plans for spring and summer shows as I get closer to the album release.
The dimly-lit green room at Music Hall of Williamsburg smells of cigarettes, but in an unassuming way, perhaps because Chris Chu of POP ETC kindly apologizes to my plus one, Caroline, and I in advance. I hardly noticed what he meant once we got up there, and no one else seemed to mind either.
Before we sit down, Chu offers us a drink.
“Water? Beer? How old are you guys?”
I feel nervous that if I say yes, I’m imposing, though I notice the array of drinks in the mini fridge: Tecate beer cans, water bottles, and a Snapple that Chu brings out to sip occasionally, post-interview.
—
Ysabella Monton for AudioFemme: Between The Morning Benders and becoming POP ETC, and even between the POP ETC album and Souvenir, I’ve noticed changes in the sound and your evolution as a group. You guys have had this awesome, loyal fan base, and you’ve done a great job of doing something new while maintaining that. What do you want your old fans to take from Souvenir?
Chris Chu: Well, love our fans and we do a lot to show them that. We respond to everything, we get people into shows all the time and give away all our guest list spots. We’re thinking about our fans a lot, but when we’re making music, the idea of trying to cater to any kind of specific listener or demographic is just dangerous. So, for Souvenir, we took our time, wrote tons of songs, and waited until a family of songs or a sound just emerged from that. And we’re happy with it. I just think, if you’re catering to your fans or trying to do something with your previous sound or anything like that, at least for us, it feels really stale. It’s hard for me to honestly sing songs like that or go on tour to play songs if we’re not excited about them. I think people notice that, so it would be a disservice to our fans to do the same thing over and over.
YM: No, I know what you mean. [laughs] Well, if you’re constantly having these new ideas, especially over the past three years — it doesn’t seem like it hasn’t been that long since the last record, but I think the change shows. What are you guys drawing inspiration from these days?
CC: It’s all over the place. For this last album, because we made the decision to take our time and approach it really patiently, we traveled a lot. For the last couple of years, I spent probably half my time in Tokyo, where I was working on other projects. So that was a huge difference, just working with people in Japan and being introduced to all this Japanese music. That was amazing, because there’s bands that are equivalent to The Beatles here that no one knows outside of Japan. Like, the number one albums in Rolling Stone Japan. I felt like a kid in a candy shop discovering that.
—
Something about inspiration leads us onto a tangent, reminiscing about 80’s music. I use “reminiscing” lightly, since neither of us were actually spinning those records through the decade. As Chu explains, “It’s similar to some of the ways we became interested in Japanese culture with rediscovering that music from the 80’s. We’re too young to have grown up with it, but our parents listened to it and we knew about it.”
I tell Chu a story about being in the car a week ago with my mom, listening to the likes of Tears for Fears, Spandau Ballet, Culture Club. Just for fun, I threw in “Running in Circles” from Souvenir.
“A seamless transition,” Chu laughs.
My mom thought so too. I tell Chu her review of the song: “I’ve never heard it, but I bet it probably played in the disco.”
—
Mid-interview, photo by Caroline Sugg for AudioFemme.
CC: That’s amazing. Similar to how I was describing the stuff in Japan, the cool thing about the 80’s is that it didn’t happen long enough ago that it’s been canonized in the same way. I grew up listening to The Beatles, The Beach Boys, Neil Young and all that stuff, Dylan. It’s so long ago that there are so many lists, so much critical discourse about music from the 60’s and you can still go and explore it yourself, but in general, it’s like history’s been written whereas with the 80s, there’s hit songs here and there but there’s a lot of records that people just haven’t given fair due because not enough time’s passed. Tears for Fears, for instance, I feel like people only know the four or five singles…
YM: Tracks like “Everybody Wants to Rule the World.”
CC: Yeah, and that’s one of my favorite songs, ever. Not knocking those songs, but I think that got us excited, like we could go back into the 80’s and write our own history and find things that spoke to us. It makes sense because we’re always listening to pop music. It’s like going into Cyndi Lauper records and Madonna records — again, people know the singles, but there are so many good album tracks.
YM: Definitely. Along with the 80’s influence I noticed some R&B as well in a few songs. I listened to “I Wanted To Change The World But The World Changed Me” and immediately the guitar at the beginning reminded me of “No Scrubs” by TLC.
CC: Yeah. [laughs] Actually, somebody else told me that, and we didn’t think about it, but it totally makes sense. It probably subconsciously made its way in.
YM: Was R&B something you were also listening to growing up?
CC: Yeah, I mean, growing up in the 90’s, you kind of couldn’t escape it. But with every song, especially from a production or sonic standpoint, we never wanna make anything that feels too dated. We’re happy to wear our influences on our sleeves, and it’s only better if people use our music as a gateway to all these 80’s bands that we love. We’re covering Tears for Fears in these shows and I’m sure especially younger kids don’t know that band, and we’d love for them to check it out. With “Running in Circles,” for instance, in the beginning it feels really 80’s, but then in the chorus, the way the guitars kind of sit in the mix, the sound of that feels almost more 90’s rock to me. Then in “I Wanted To Change The World But The World Changed Me,” we were using kind of deeper, subby, 808 kinds of sounds that have that hip hop and R&B influence for sure.
—
As he describes that process of putting together different sounds from different eras, there’s a bit of a twinkle in his eye. It becomes clear very quickly that he’s rightfully proud of what POP ETC has accomplished in this regard.
“We love music,” Chu says, “so we’re just listening to stuff all the time and putting it all together.
I ask if that’s where the “et cetera” comes from, since the music they make transcends the meaning of the word “pop” on its own.
“Yeah, we were very intentional about choosing that name,” says Chu. “When we chose ‘The Morning Benders,’ we didn’t even think it would be a real band. But with ‘POP ETC,’ we like the idea of it. Not only does it kind of feel like a genre, so we can say we play “pop et cetera,” but we like it as something bigger than a band, like a kind of concept.”
Especially seeing as “pop” tends to have a negative connotation nowadays, the way that POP ETC have branded themselves is an effective, cohesive labor of love.
“We’re making shirts and stuff, we love it from a design perspective,” explains Chu. “Now, we’re putting things out through our own imprint called ‘POP ETC Records.’ I like how it fits into all these different arms. It all serves the music. And we do play ‘pop et cetera,’ that’s our genre.”
Photo by Bee Vivian.
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YM: Since you mix genres so effectively and all these different aspects go into it, when you have an idea for a song, how does that become a collaborative effort?
CC: Well, it actually changed substantially for this record. Especially with The Morning Benders, probably because I was younger and scared of letting go of total control, I wanted to wear all the hats and try to engineer it, mix it, produce it, and direct everyone exactly how to play things. With this record, and with my brother in the band, and Julian, who I’ve known for half my life, I really trust them. I’ll still write the core of a song by myself, and they give me very honest and merciless feedback. They’ll often be like, “We don’t like this,” and I’ll trash it, or, “The chorus is working, but the rhythm in the verse isn’t,” something like that. They help curate the songwriting even though they’re not writing lyrics or melodies that much. Then from a production standpoint, everyone plays. Julian is just a natural drummer, and as he’s playing drums, he starts guiding a song in a certain way from his style and his idea of what he likes. So yeah, I think this is the most collaborative record we’ve ever made.
YM: Does that have to do with it being recorded in the apartment?
CC: Yeah, that’s a huge factor. I get kinda stressed out being in a studio. I mean, you can find a great studio and make it warm and cool and if you can kind of bunker down for a month or something and you can feel comfortable there, but it’s just harder and harder to do that these days…I just always felt, especially with vocals and things that I wanna do in a really heartfelt, personal way, it’s kind of odd to do it in a studio where you don’t know the space or you don’t know anyone. There’s assistants standing around, staring at you or whatever. We just liked kind of being at home and having the freedom to really be patient. If I wanted to geek out over a certain way I sung a line or something for a couple hours, I could do that, whereas in a studio, you feel bad because you’re having an engineer do this thing over and over, and you just wanna get on with it.
YM: So did you not bring too many other outside people into it?
CC: No, no. We ended up having a couple of people mix it, so we sent it off for that phase just because we thought it would be nice to get some clarity. We ended up spending so much time on this record that we all felt like we were too close to have clarity on organizing sound. But we produced everything and played everything ourselves.
YM: So in the last three years, it wasn’t like a, “We spent most of this time writing, most of this time recording…”
CC: That’s the thing with being able to record at home now, it’s all much more ambiguous and those lines don’t really exist. When we did our first record, it was all the tape and we knew that we’d be going into the studio with not much time so we’d learn all the songs really well, went in and banged it out, and made a record. But with this it’s just everything is a moving part. You’re not committing something to tape where you can’t change it…The songwriting, and the recording and production are all intermingled. And some songs, we’d be fully recorded and go back and rewrite the chorus or a lyric or something. There’s substantial changes to every facet of a song.
YM: So how does that process reflect in the title of the album being Souvenir?
CC: We named it Souvenir for a lot of reasons, but in regards to that, because we took so much time and spent these years making this record, and it really felt stretched out across those years, it wasn’t like we did a couple of months and then vacationed for six, we were really tinkering with it. So I think it feels like a snapshot of what we were going through during those times. We liked the idea of having a souvenir that we could hold onto and keep with us going forward.
—
At this point, Jon, Chu’s brother and bandmate, pops in, waiting for a lull in the conversation. I turn to ask if he wants to add anything.
“Oh no, sorry to interrupt,” he says, “We just didn’t submit a guest list.”
Soon, drummer Julian Harmon comes in too, reaching for the beers and taking a seat on the couch with a few other people. There’s an air of ease in the room, no tension despite there being an interview going on and show time in around fifteen minutes.
“I thought Christine would’ve done that, but I will send it to you,” says Chris
“I’ll send that to you now,” says Chris, and Jon thanks him and apologizes again. “Okay, I sent it to both of you guys.”
“Are you guys doing an interview?” Harmon asks.
“Yeah, and we’re recording,” says Chris, jokingly adding, “So get the beers, and go.”
They leave the room and I get nervous, as it seems like I’m intruding on their time to hang out before the show.
“I mean, the only other thing I was wondering was…” I begin.
“It’s fine! Take your time,” he reassures me. “Don’t worry about them, there’s always something going wrong.”
—
YM: What kinds of things do you want new people who are discovering your music to draw from?
CC: That’s a good question. I don’t know.
YM: Not that you have to peg it for anything specific.
CC: I mean, obviously we put so much time into this record, I hope that people connect with it. In the same way that it’s a souvenir for us and we have it for these times, I like the idea of people having it — and for me, this is how music works in my life — as I’m living and listening to a record, my life experiences get kind of wrapped up in that, so ideally, that was what would happen. It could be a souvenir for other people.
YM: Yeah, definitely.
CC: To bring it full circle with what we were talking about early on, I really want fans to know how much we appreciate them caring about what we’re doing. I would like them to connect with us, especially with all the social media ways you connect with fans directly. I really think that it’s a blessing that we get to make music all the time for a living. We really do believe in that exchange and we’re feeding off the energy of our fans. Their support really does affect us and our music.
Berkeley-born and Brooklyn-based trio POP ETC are back with Souvenir, a follow up to 2012’s eponymous release.
In the last three years, the band has traversed in an even poppier direction, almost a little cheesy. But in a time when “pop” is considered an obscenity, a genre to be left for the tweens, POP ETC makes something shimmer on Souvenir.
The first single, “What Am I Becoming?” stands out as one of my favorite tracks, right next to the relentlessly catchy “Vice,” where lead singer Chris Chu sings, “You’ve got that vice that I like/No matter how hard I fight/It takes a hold of me right now.”
“Your Heart is a Weapon” and “Running in Circles” most clearly relay the 80’s synth-pop feel dominating the album. Slowing it down, “I Wanted to Change the World But the World Changed Me” (apart from being a mouthful of a title) is set in motion by a catchy guitar hook immediately reminiscent of “No Scrubs” by TLC.
The album is sprinkled with bits of R&B influence throughout, and it’s fair to assume these guys have spent some time listening to the likes of both Duran Duran and Mariah, and everything in between.
Perhaps that explains where the “et cetera” comes from.
There’s a clearly deliberate cohesion on Souvenir that was lacking on the overdone POP ETC. Simplifying the production and easing up on the auto-tune makes for a delightful listen, and a pretty good dance party playlist for fans of other contemporary indie pop artists like Ra Ra Riot or Washed Out.
The boys are currently on tour with Oh Wonder, and will be playing Music Hall of Williamsburg this Friday and Bowery Ballroom on Saturday.
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.
