Rosie: I think it was a conglomeration of events. I was definitely getting the itch to record stuff — maybe before I’d got the material — but if I did another record, I wanted it to be more of a body of work and less a collection of random songs. It came hand-in-hand with the realisation that I’d been keeping my art and my music separate in my mind and in life, and I’d been writing songs that were another outlet for thinking about the concepts I was exploring in my art. I was like, “Well, obviously. That makes sense because it’s my brain.” [laughs] Then I wrote one key song, which was the title track, The Lost Gardens, and that was just it. I was like, “Oh, I’ve got at least three songs now that are using kind of garden imagery. I think I have something! I have a theme.”

It all happened to be good timing that Jakes and Niko, my sound engineers, and Upcycled Sounds got properly setup with a studio in Oxford, and they were just raring to go and ready to start. I only had four songs at the time, and I knew I wanted five. I thought a lot about doing an album or an EP — the pros and cons — and we decided that an EP was a really good way of getting music out more quickly, and more focused as a project as opposed to an album, which can end up quite rambly. So, it came together at the beginning of last year, and we threw ourselves into it.

You mention the cohesiveness, specifically from a thematic perspective. Did you enjoy working within that framework once you realised that’s where you were heading?

Rosie: I didn’t realise quite how cohesive it all was until we finished and put the tracklisting together. I think even though I knew it was more cohesive, it was more the pleasure that I knew I was proud of the songs — I knew that they were good. With Inside Out, it was like I was prepared to record them and put them out there because I thought they were okay songs… That sounds terrible. They were meaningful, so I thought that was grounds enough to put them out, but with the songs I wrote for The Lost Gardens, I felt proud of them as good songs. That’s what was really enjoyable about recording them as a set.

We spoke last time about this being quite a relaxed project for you – how you’d deliberately kept things casual for fear of it dying – have you been able to preserve that attitude through the process of this latest record?

Rosie: Yes, I think so. Music in general is still that for me, and I’m much more clear on that now than I was three years ago. I was kinda like, “I dunno, I’ll just see what happens”, and I felt a bit guilty about that, like maybe it was just a lazy attitude. But actually, now, I really want the music to remain enjoyable, and I think the key to that is to keep it like, “Let’s see what happens. Let’s just try this out.”

But I don’t have an end goal, and I don’t have my sights set on anything in particular. Last year was pretty full-on music-wise, and it took up way too much of my time for how much it paid me. That was fun, but I have to be really aware of it. It’s energy sapping. My mantra for this year, and forever, I think, is to be open with music, and never to say no, but equally I’m not gonna pursue anything — much to the dismay of my production team. [laughs]

And compared to your album, how have you found yourself responding to the actual release of this EP: the letting go of it?

Rosie: I think my attitude to that has changed as well. It’s because the creation of the album, and then the launch and the gigs afterwards, have been a lot more collaborative than with my album, which was collaborative as well, but with the EP I very much more handed over trust to other musicians.

I remember, just before we started recording, I was still having anxieties about ownership of the songs. Handing over everything production-wise, and letting them play around with whatever they wanted in the studio, took a lot of, ‘Okay, what does that mean of those songs once they’re done? How much are they still mine?’ My problem with that quandary isn’t to do with wanting them to be mine, it’s more to do with how I feel guilty about then selling the CDs and getting the proceeds just for me. I had the same issue with Inside Out — I felt really bad about it. I was like, “This is eighty percent someone else’s work.”

I had lots of conversations with Niko about that, and he just kept reassuring me, like, “No, they are your songs. They can be displayed and worked with in hundreds of different ways, but the song is still yours.” The whole way Upcycled Sounds was set up in the first place, they really want it to be clear that the song is owned by the songwriter who pays for the production. That’s a job that’s been done, and the song is still completely owned by the artist at the end. I think that all helped me let go of them to a certain extent, and enjoy it. It’s been really fun. I feel like everyone’s reaction to the EP has been that of surprise and enjoyment of how much it’s opened up, and that’s all down to the production team, but also the collaboration between both of us. I’m much more aware of how that EP couldn’t exist without both our things coming together.

So, would you say you’ve now completely gotten over that particular doubt?

Rosie: Yeah, I think so. Having a band around me, I’ve started to see how people actually just get a lot of enjoyment out of it. I should stop feeling weird about that. Now I know where my strengths lie, where they don’t, and where I can invite others to contribute in order to progress things in a way I couldn’t on my own. I shouldn’t feel guilty about that — I should just enjoy the fact they’re enjoying it, and we’re all enjoying it together. [laughs]

How has all of this impacted your live show?

Rosie: It has definitely raised some questions. It was exciting what we developed on the EP, and how we broadened the sound. We came to the end of it and were like, “Great! How do we bring that onto the stage?” Because it feels like a really great leap forward, and it would be really cool to bring that progression into the live performance, but I’ve always avoided bands because it takes a lot of logistics and is a bit of a nightmare. But, that all quite happily fell together, accidentally.

Some of the artists on the label — we all just kind of collaborated on each others songs. Then we were trying to take the recordings, and not replicate them for on stage, because they’re two different things, but to take some of the elements of the recordings: to put my guitar down and hand over that instrumentation side of the performance to these other instrumentalists; to trust them to find their parts with what they’d heard on the EP, and what my live performance was like. Instantly, it was really exciting, and they really enjoyed it, which was what mattered to me. I’m not gonna employ band members just for the hell of it — the only reason I’m doing it is because they’re enjoying it.

As a bonus, it’s unlocked a whole different level of performing for me, which I never could have imagined before. The amount of fun you can have on stage when it’s not just you. You can actually own your craft in a much more poignant way — I can really focus on my vocals, which is what I really care about and enjoy. The part I didn’t enjoy so much, which was the guitar, I can hand over and they can enjoy it. So, it’s been really great.

Will you be doing more shows with the band?

Rosie: I want to, and they want to, but it’s just that difficulty of us all doing it on the side. When there are five of you doing it on the side, the chances of you getting in one room at the same time for a rehearsal are slim. We’ve done a few gigs recently where we hadn’t rehearsed at all, which they’re very good at — at winging it — but I don’t really want to wing it. If I’m going to do it with the band, I really want to be rehearsed. So, that’ll take a different investment of time and money.

I’ll say yes to things if they come up, but I don’t have that space — I’m gonna have to be focusing on my artwork a lot this year, because last year was a music year. This year, I need to lock down and focus. I think what I’m planning, in build up to the next record and producing it, is involving the band a lot more. Then we’ll see about touring and scary stuff like that. Next year, maybe.

Okay, so returning to the EP itself: Were you more, or less, concerned about the reaction this time around?

Rosie: I guess, naturally, more, because I think you always are with every new project — you feel like you’ve progressed, and you want that confirmation from the outside.

Last time we spoke, you said that you’d like to introduce a slightly more electronic influence, and a very noticeable way in which this EP differs from your album is the production. In this particular respect, how close is the EP to what you were envisaging three years ago?

Rosie: I’ve kind of taken stepping stones with Jakes and Niko towards that — keeping my songs pure. I didn’t want to suddenly go over-electronic; I didn’t want to suddenly become, you know, current. [laughs]

I loved what what Chris did with the instrumentation (for Inside Out) — it was beautiful — but the reason I can’t listen to the album much at the moment is purely because of my performance. I feel like I over-performed it, I was overexcited, and it was all a bit much. I’m aware of the fact that my songs are already quite a lot to absorb, and the instrumentation needs to bare that in mind — we kind of just threw everything at it. Chris came up with loads of arrangements for loads of different instruments, and I was like, “Yeah! Sure! Try that! Throw it on!”

I’ve realised since that I need to pare things down somehow and yet keep it real — I love knowing that a sound actually happened. I know synthesisers use sounds and then work with them, but I like the idea that everything really did happen in the studio. That’s what Jakes and Niko do. It sounds more electronic, but actually all of those sounds were created uniquely for the project; mostly, they didn’t take samples from a database and mix them in — we made them, by hitting things in the studio, and shaking random objects.

I think it became a lot clearer to me, when I had a lot of distance from the album, what I actually wanted the sound to be like. It took me a long time, and I really struggled with hearing it. Really, I think I’m only clear on that now that we’ve done it — in the studio, I was like, “Try whatever.” But I think Jakes and Niko had a lot of clarity about it, and that really helped. They knew it needed to be simplified, not over-complicated, yet they also wanted it to be fresh and interesting. So yeah, Jakes and Niko really helped to have that clarity, and now I feel a lot more clear for the next one.

It feels like it worked as a concoction of people and minds. It was quite experimental, but now we can see what worked and what didn’t. It’s nice. I can imagine doing something more, which I don’t think I was that clear on after Inside Out.

Is there anything you left off the album that, on reflection, you wish you’d included, or anything that could have been done slightly differently?

Rosie: I think the only change I would make to the EP is something I suggested that I now think I was wrong about. [laughs] Niko’s gonna love this; I haven’t told him. Towards the end of the mixing, I kept asking him to turn me up. You know Laura Marling’s new album, and the song Soothing? I was thinking very much in those terms: it’s all about her delivery. It sounds really egocentric, but the lyrics are so important to me. I didn’t really know what was going on with the instrumentation, but the point of the song — I really want that to be in the front. So, I kept prodding him to turn it up in the mix, and he was just like, “You’re already really loud!” I was like, “No, I’m not! Not loud enough!”

I do like it, but I have had a comment from another sound engineer that was like, “That was quite brave: to put you so forward in the mix.” Yeah, that was my fault. So, I think I need to trust Niko’s opinion more on the stuff that he’s trained at. I think that’s the only change I would make.

There was something we left out that was in the mix for The Lost Gardens, which I stand by. Niko used a lot of field recordings, and one of the main ones was a recording he’d taken of ants crawling over his microphone — they were making squeaky noises and spraying defensive stuff. He mixed it into quite a lot of the song, and he loved it. Everyone else loved it. They were like, “That’s so cool!” But I was determined, and I know I’m in the right about this: it was just a distracting, weird sound. You’re just like, “Are my headphones broken?” [laughs] The other aspect of it is that I have a phobia of ants. [laughs] So, it would have been quite ironic to keep it in there, but it was also like, “I’m never going to be able to listen to this song. I feel like they’re in my head.”

Other than the fact ant sounds are definitely not for you, is there anything you’ve learnt about yourself from the creation and release of this record?

Rosie: I’ve learnt to trust the fact that things are connected, and things happen for a reason; to trust that they’ll mesh together successfully, and to not be so worried about not having a grasp on what it’s going to sound like, be like or look like. So, definitely to trust my process, and to trust other people more. Other than that, I’m not really sure. I still don’t know much about myself. [laughs]

How do you feel you’ve developed as a lyricist since the album?

Rosie: I’m still learning. I can see now what’s more successful about these songs. There are a lot of people who have a huge place in their heart for the songs on Inside Out, but I think, technically, they’re definitely better songs on The Lost Gardens. I always write really rambly, and there are aspects of those songs that maybe are still too rambly. But I think, on the whole, with the input of Jakes and Niko, we did cut out quite a lot of random bits of verses that I was holding onto because I really liked them lyrically. But to make a good song that people could follow — could audibly go on the journey with me — it needed to keep their attention, and in order to do that, I have to sacrifice some lyrics.

I wrote a song recently that’s just been taking so long, because I had too much of an idea of what I wanted it to be about, and I was hammering that home way too much and in a really obscure way. It was really hard to follow, and I rewrote it three or four times. I think I’ve only just got it to a stage where I can bring it to the band and see what happens with it. It took a lot of sacrificing ideas in order to make a good song, and that’s hard, but also an important part of the process that I’m learning. It does come across in a shorter amount of words. I have to believe that people will get it; I don’t have to spell everything out.

I get the impression from the way you’ve conveyed that point however, that removing something from an original work for the betterment of a song is something you’re still struggling with a little.

Rosie: If you gave me a week off from my life, I couldn’t guarantee you that I could come up with a song — maybe an idea, but it’s still a mysterious process to me. I have more of an understanding of it but, in a way, that’s more of a risk. Sometimes I feel like I want to have less of an understanding, because I feel that holds me back. I used to write songs way more regularly — just spit them out — but now I definitely feel that my awareness makes me overthink things. I’m hoping that will all balance out and I’ll become productive again, but it’s a hard thing, writing songs.

I can imagine; I find it hard enough writing emails. The amount of time I can spend tweaking a two line message…

Rosie: [laughs] It happens when you really care about what you’re saying. If you really care then of course it’s hard. There are a million different ways you could get the words out, and you want them to be the right words. There’s so much pressure on that, and people who write a lot of songs, maybe they’re just better at letting go of that pressure, or maybe some of them just don’t care as much. [laughs] They just get it out and think about it later, and if you wanted to make a career in songwriting, you’d need to do that. But I’m not prepared to sacrifice my pernickety songwriting. [laughs]

Okay, so what does this EP represent to you.

Rosie: For me, in both my art and my music, it marks a kind of clarity. No matter what my songs are about on the surface, they are all dealing with a similar theme and ideas — that’s quite refreshing to realise. I think I’ll always be trying to express that in some way or other, whatever imagery I’m using at the time. I can see how, even though I’ve only got one or two songs for the next record, it leads on in terms of the underlying themes, which will be the same: ideas about finding stability in a world that’s so chaotic and turbulent, and also the dangers of veering too much to that side and wanting too much stability and too much control — what that can mean and how that can hold you back.

It’s weird, I feel like I’ve been having this epiphany for the last four years — I have the answer, but to get there is gonna be a lifelong process, and the songs are an important part of that for me. That’s exciting, I think. I see songwriting as less random than I used to.

The post Rosie Caldecott appeared first on A Lonely Ghost Burning.

Natalie: The majority of them were written in the year or two when we were touring Native Dreamer Kin. Some of them were in the last six months leading up to beginning to record. Planets was written a lot longer before — maybe right in the beginning when we started doing music — and Sweet Dreams was a little bit earlier as well, but those are the only ones.

With the first album, a lot of those songs had been written over the course of years, but we had had help from our friend and then producer, Andrew Stonestreet. He shaped the songs and took them from their elementary selves to what we really meant. That happened the summer before recording, but they’d been written so much longer before. A lot of these new songs were the products of co-writes, and it was a different thing to write a second album — it was like we had to start fresh, you know?

So what was your overriding emotion when the new songs were released?

Natalie: Oh, my gosh! I remember where I was — Meegan and Allie weren’t with me for some reason. I was taking the tram in Minneapolis from our hotel to the airport. It wasn’t the whole album, it was just White Flag, and I remember thinking to myself — Meegan and Allie and I talk about this all the time — Do I love this? Do I believe in this? Because I’m about to get what other people think. It’s this butterfly kind of feeling, but grounded in this fortitude of: I believe this. I mean this. So, it’s a lot of feelings. I mean, it’s so nerve-wracking to work on those things and then finally have them out. You just kind of give it away, and it soars. It’s crazy.

Would you say it was more nerve-wracking than when you released the first record?

Natalie: Absolutely. We didn’t have anything to lose when we released Native Dreamer Kin. At this point, with I’m Alone, No You’re Not, we had worked on music for the previous few years and had garnered a team and a small group of people paying attention, so you are curious what they’ll say. And there’s a whole lot more production on this, so I was anticipating people saying that it was too much and that it was a departure from the original: things like that.

How deliberate was the move into poppier territory?

Natalie: I would say completely, and not at all. When these songs came, it was like, “Oh, we need to dress them up in the clothes they were made to wear.” And we love pop music, so it doesn’t surprise me that a pop song came out. I love the pop form; I’m not ashamed to say that. So yeah, it wasn’t deliberate when we were going into the writing; it wasn’t like, “We’re going to make something with more pop sensibilities.” It was just once we happened upon these songs. S.O.S, for example, we just kept laughing. When we got out of that writing session, we were like, “This song is so great, but it’s so hilariously in that direction.” [laughs] We liked it, so we kept it and worked on it.

I recall, when you first released that track, reading some criticism on your social media with regards it being a pop song. Have you had much feedback like that?

Natalie: Yes and no. I mean, the Internet’s a crazy place, and people love to give their opinion, so if you want to find negativity, you don’t have to go too far, you know? [laughs] It’s just there. So, we anticipated people having that opinion, and that’s completely fine. I made the mistake once of — have you head of Reddit? Well, I was not familiar with the concept of Reddit until a friend told me that our Tiny Desk concert had gone up on it. I was like, “Oh, what an honour. How lovely.” But you go on there, and you realise that the entire thing is just so people can give their opinion, and a lot of it is negative. I was talking to a friend the other day about that feedback, and you have to be strong in yourself and what you think it is — if those people don’t like what it is: “Move along.” [laughs] You don’t have to stand there pointing fingers and saying it’s terrible; you can just not like it and go on on your merry way.

I wish it didn’t affect me, but he made a great point — my friend, Andrew, is actually who I was talking to about this — he said, “Well, it’s likely that those comments they’re making have to do with an actual questioning, like if it hits a nerve.” And I think that’s what it is. I think we all do, as you do with any decision you make in your life — you think: Oh, should we have done that? Should we have stayed more stripped down? But in the end, regardless of criticism, I’ll always come back to the fact that I love what this album was. And I know that if we want to do something different, we can do that in the future; it doesn’t all hinge on this one thing.

Regarding Reddit, I don’t think it’s exactly renowned as an embracing community of, well… anything.

Natalie: [laughs] Yes, exactly! That’s what I realised. I was like, “I shouldn’t be reading this.” They were making very personal criticisms about our appearance and our names. I was just like, “This is terrible. This is a terrible place.” [laughs]

On a more positive note: Is there anything that you are especially proud of on this latest record?

Natalie: Yes: so much. I love the diversity of the songs, honestly. I feel really proud of both Meegan and Allie’s writing. There’s a rawness to it that I don’t think the first album had. I listened through the album yesterday, and I was so stunned by it; I was so grateful.

Is there anything you left off of the album that, on reflection, you wish you’d included, or anything that could have been done slightly differently?

Natalie: Well, when we release the deluxe edition, we will have two extra tracks on it that are quite literally ‘off of the album’ at this moment. And the sequencing of the album will be different, because initially, when we collected the songs together, we realised it fell in this day cycle. What I mean by that is there were songs that felt distinctly like night-time, and songs that felt distinctly like morning. So, we had sequenced them in order of a day, starting in early evening with this worry of going into the night and going to sleep, then going into the night and the struggle, the things that you feel and that doubt that you face — I struggle with insomnia, so I have crazy thoughts at night-time — then the sleep, and then the morning and going, “It’s going to be okay, but I have to do my work today.” That was one thing that was different. The label was the one that had, not the final say, but we said, “Okay, yeah — we’ll go with your way.” And I think, to there point, it makes sense. If we have brand new people encountering our music, and it starts in this very subtle way, they’re not necessarily going to stick around to hear the rest.

That’s a concept that was hard for me; I didn’t want to sacrifice the artistic integrity of the work. But, I was talking to my dad about it, and he said, “No, no, no. Your pop songs are your front door. If you want someone to get in your living room, let alone your attic, and know all the deep things, you need to show them a front door that looks welcoming.” That has meant a lot to me as I’ve thought through, like, “No, you’re right — that’s a wreath on it is what that is.” [laughs] So, we started with those as the introduction to draw new listeners in; I’m not bummed by that strategy at all.

Last time we spoke, you mentioned, not in relation to this specifically but that you like to be in control. How difficult has it been for you to maybe relinquish some of that?

Natalie: I will say: what I just explained to you is the only decision that was made that was not our preference. To your point — [laughs] — it says something about my desire to control, because here I am talking about the one thing. But it’s been a really good partnership with them. I feel nothing but respected by our managers and our label — even more than I’m comfortable with, sometimes. For instance, you don’t think when you sit down to write a song that one day you’re going to be called upon to think of a visual production element to a TV performance. That never occurred to me! We’re on a phone call to the label, and they’re like, “Okay, guys, we’ve just got Ellen DeGeneres. What do you want the stage to look like?” And I’m like, “What goes into creating a stage? I’ve never thought about that.” So, they believe a lot in our creativity, direction and ideas — so much so that I’m having to give myself a masterclass on all these things so that I can be trusted, and have something to offer.

When you, Meegan and Allie discuss the album, how closely do your views on it tend to align?

Natalie: I’d say that we always come to a point of agreement. In general, we tend to fill these very specific roles that we’ve learned a lot about this past year. Mine is the role of impulsive, head first, ‘let’s do it, don’t think about the consequences’ kind of mentality. Allie is a little bit more measured, but usually enthusiastic and on-board, and Meegan is calculated and considers potential harm in the future… thankfully. [laughs] She’s more the brakes of the situation. So, you can imagine what dynamic ensues from that: in amazing ways, and in ways of tension. We need it all though.

As far as the album goes, it’s such a crazy thing because it’s not static. I have a different favourite song all the time, and sometimes I don’t like certain songs at all. It’s just like anything else: you just constantly have a relationship with it that’s changing, and I think that’s true of all three of us. For the most part, we line up, but if someone’s really like, “This song isn’t hitting me anymore; we need to do something”, then we listen, and we change it — we don’t bull-headedly move forward. If you’re looking for a percentage, I’d say eighty. [laughs]

Last time round, I asked you what you hoped to communicate through Joseph. In response, you spoke of always wanting to start your writing from a place of hope, with the idea that we’re not alone and will prevail over what pushes against us. You also said, however, that whilst you wanted that to be the banner, the message didn’t always feel like a truth in the moments of creation. Which makes me wonder: How good a feeling is it that White Flag, a song that clearly does represent the ideals you spoke of, has kind of become the band’s signature at a time when your reach and popularity has risen so steeply?

Natalie: That’s a great question. It is wonderful, but it’s not the whole story. I’d say that sometimes it’s hard to sing something triumphantly when you’re not necessarily feeling that. It’s been really humbling to me, especially lately, how many people have messaged us and said, “This song has been important in this trying time.” … I’ve felt rather defeated by what’s going on, and it’s been a challenge to feel that sense of resistance and hope against the darkness. So, it is a really humbling experience to have a banner that goes above you. You can’t just go in and half-heartedly sing, “Burn the white flag.” [laughs] You can’t. You have to scream it with your whole being, and it’s a mental exercise to really embody that each time. But yeah, it is thrilling to get to say those things, and to be a war cry against so many people’s obstacles. It is very humbling.

We have had some of the most moving emails. I had a person write to me and say that he had just heard it on the radio, liked the sound of it, but wasn’t really paying attention until the words ‘I’d rather be dead than live a lie’ came out. To me, I’m like, “That’s a very simple lyric; I probably borrowed it from a thousand other people”, but he said, the second that he heard that, he knew he had to tell his parents that he was gay. He’d been hiding that since he was thirteen — he’s in college now — and he knew that he couldn’t keep it in anymore. That was his moment of realisation, and to be a part of something like that is so astounding to me. To get to incite that moment for someone. It’s so humbling to know that that song goes outside of us, does it’s own work and becomes something for someone else. It’s amazing.

That was a very roundabout answer to your wonderful question.

It deserved a roundabout answer, really, didn’t it?

Natalie: [laughs]

Sticking with White Flag: Has it been strange to see the song endure for as many months as it has?

Natalie: Has it? [laughs] What’s funny is, I don’t feel like I have a frame of reference. Honestly, Jamie, I’m constantly going, “Is this doing what you wanted it to do? Label? Management? Are we where you thought we would be?” So far, so good, but I admit I don’t know enough about how it all works. I’ve just been on the outside seeing certain things explode, or not. I guess, I’ll just respond by saying, “Has it?” [laughs]

My frame of reference is that it’s still finding it’s way onto radio playlists, and it’s the song that you’ve tended to perform in your TV appearances — ranging from Jimmy Fallon last summer to Jools Holland towards the end of the year. Looking at it from another angle: Have you felt as though you would like to move the focus to another song?

Natalie: [laughs] It’s funny, I’m just learning so much about the business side of it. Coming from you or I, who are a part of this story and have seen it from earlier moments, it does feel like that. But the impression that I get from other people is that they’ll see one of those things, and they’ll not really care that much because they’re not invested. Or they’ll start to care based on one, and then they pay attention to the rest. What I’ve been told is: it’s not happening over and over for most people, except for the wonderful early-adopting tribe that has joined us. People will just see one or the other. It’s some fact that says it’s a certain amount of impressions, and then it becomes known to someone in their psyche.

So, I think occasionally. But we even found a way to switch it up. TV performances… Hmm. The sound, when you listen back — it’s just horrific. It’s absolutely horrific what a TV does to the sound of a song. Oh, man — it just reduces it. But we have tried to make it new and change the arrangement a little bit.

I did notice that you’d done that, and I think it reflects well on you that you would make the effort to do it.

Natalie: Oh, thank you. It’s really for us so we don’t get bored. [laughs]

With regards the sound quality: did you feel the same way about the Jools Holland performance?

Natalie: Oh, my gosh! No. Jools Holland was my favourite. I mean, obviously, all of the American TV was such a massive honour — Are you kidding me? — and Jimmy Fallon was an existential moment in life for all of us, I think, but Jools Holland was so special. And it could have been they put us at a table and kept refilling our wine or something — [laughs]– but oh, my gosh, that was such a special night. Listening back: the guitar sounds thin, and there’s just these very tangible sonic things that you’re like, “Well that doesn’t come across exactly as it felt.” But I think, at the same time, it does, because there was something extremely special about that night, about that place and about that performance. It honestly did feel like there was a desperation about it; it just felt so real. And it was also the trio, and I usually don’t like that song as a trio, because it sounds more like a Mumford rip-off than an interesting song without the production but, really, there was a moment — I can’t even really describe it. It was special. There was a good response.

Everyone usually gets a stage on Jools Holland, but it kinda looked like they just plonked you in the middle.

Natalie: They did. [laughs]

Last time we spoke, you mentioned the danger of running yourselves into the ground, but I imagine your lives have only become more hectic and more intense over the past eighteen months. Have you been able to take a step back from it all and properly rest?

Natalie: Yes. We’ve had the last five weeks off. We did a two week thing in December, but in fact, we cancelled some dates in an effort to preserve our health. We learned our lesson the hard way, actually. That’s funny that I was saying that back then (August 2015) because what was ahead was really crazy. I really learned my lesson as far as being full sail ahead — that being my inclination in life in general. I realised that’s just my rhythm, and it’s an unhealthy rhythm: to go until you have less than none. When you bring other people into it — for instance, my sisters and my husband — these people that are giving beyond… It’s not healthy for even one person, and then drafting other people into that — I really learned my lesson. I mean, we had to do a lot of those things, and I’m so, so happy that we did and they’re done, but we have a different approach going into the new year.

You may have just answered this next question, but what is the most important lesson you’ll take from the creation and release of this record?

Natalie: Our focus for the new year is to have the vision ourselves and be in charge instead of letting everything just happen to us. So, that’s an exciting new perspective. My dad told me this story that is a little bit heavy but really interesting. He said that he had a friend who was speaking with someone in charge of an Air Force group — I don’t know military terms — and in the interview this man asked him, “When you sent men out to battle, would you know, somewhere deep down, who was going to come back?” He paused for a minute and then said, “Yeah, I did.” He was asked, “How did you know?” He said, “The men who strapped themselves into the plane, I knew that eventually, whether it was this time or the next, it wouldn’t work. But there were men who would strap the plane to their own backs, and those men I knew I would see back here.” And I am so overwhelmed with that idea: like, you are the cosmic force moving a thing instead of being carried by this thing that’s out of your control. That’s been a perspective that this process has taught us.

Has the process of making I’m Alone, No You’re Not, or the finished work itself, changed your perception of Joseph?

Natalie: Completely. I mean, has being a year older changed your perspective of being Jamie? [laughs] That’s how it feels. Every new experience is altering how we see it, and there’s been such dramatic new experiences. I guess if you’re asking how it’s changed, I would say: Where do you want to start? I can’t even pick out one way that would seem more important than the others. [laughs]

What do you hope the record has revealed about Joseph as a band?

Natalie: I hope that it revealed that we’re willing to be truthful, we’re willing to be vulnerable but not in a shock factor way, and that we have the full range of feelings: despair and doubt and fractured sense of truth. Not every single feeling has an answer. Not just the triumphant battlecry or the dutiful love song, but to also have songs like Hundred Ways that are this ‘I really don’t know and I feel lost.’

Finally, what does I’m Alone, No You’re Not represent to you?

Natalie: I would say I’m Alone, No You’re Not represents what I hope is sophomore year of high school in this journey of, “Okay, we were really earnest and we really meant that, and we did everything to the best of our ability and made every decision that we could have made — now we take all of that into the next experience.” In sophomore year, you start doing sports and start proving your way to the older kids, but you’re still a sophomore: you don’t have any clout yet, really, but you’re getting there. That’s what I hope it means.

The post Natalie Schepman (Joseph) appeared first on A Lonely Ghost Burning.

Quinne: No, everything always takes longer than I hope or think it would take. I did release the mixtape and the music video in between, so those took a bit of time. I feel like I’m starting to get faster at writing songs, but I still get frustrated at how long it takes me sometimes.

Is there any particular reason why it does take so long?

Quinne: Probably a bit of a perfectionist problem; a couple of the songs were re-recorded in different ways, two or three times. Purity Control and Barnacles were both completely re-recorded in a completely different way: in completely different time signatures and stuff. I definitely fiddle with things for a really long time: fiddle with all the little details. I mix it all myself and I’m not very fast at that.

So what was your overriding emotion when you did finally release it?

Quinne: Leading up to releasing it, I was really impatient and just wanting to get it out there, so any kind of little thing that takes any amount of time was really aggravating. But, being able to put it out was really satisfying. I guess, because I am a bit of a perfectionist, once it’s actually out there, it’s exactly what I wanted to put out.

Are there no elements that you’re not so sure about then? No minute causes of irritation?

Quinne: [laughs] Maybe in a year or two, but I would not put it out if I felt that way. No, everything has to be perfect when I put it out. [laughs] There’s some subject matter that I’m sometimes like, “Should I have done that?” But it was more important for me to talk about stuff that I think needs to be talked about instead of making myself as comfortable as possible. So I made myself a bit uncomfortable, but I’m happy with my decision.

What are the particular aspects of Vile that you’re most proud of?

Quinne: I feel like it’s a lot more cohesive than Endling. I feel like I’m getting better at making what I want to make. I’m happy with the kind of themes that ended up coming together. When I was writing the songs, I didn’t have anything in mind for an overriding theme, but one ended up manifesting. I was really happy about that: I feel like the subject matter is cohesive and pointed.

What is the subject matter, and how did it come about?

Quinne: It ended up being quite political, but political in the sense of coming from a very personal place. There’s a lot of anger at institutions of power, imperialism and privilege that I was personally feeling. When you write that stuff down it kinda ends up becoming a bit of a political statement, I guess.

Have you previously imagined yourself making music which has that political edge to it?

Quinne: The band I was in before, MYTHS, was just political. It was not personal, not emotional — it was straight-up comments on politics: mostly feminism. So when I started my own project, I was like, “Personal stuff!” [laughs] It was definitely me diving into the other end of the pool and just being able to do something that I hadn’t been able to do before. So, I guess this is a bit more meeting in the middle…

I’m still angry. [laughs] There’s still so much happening in the world that personally affects me and I want to talk about, but I can kind of come at it from a personal place, which, to me at least, is more powerful. I’m coming at this from my own experience… People, a lot of the time, talk about politics like it’s disconnected from your life. People will tell actors or musicians, “Stay out of politics!” But that’s assuming that politics aren’t your life, and I think that’s a privileged position to be in: to keep politics at arms-length and say that only people who have a political science degree should be talking about that. Maybe you can say that when it doesn’t directly affect your life, but when it does, you need to be able to talk about it, and you need to say something and be involved.

To be fair, the people who shout down a musician’s right to an opinion only seem to do that when said musician takes a stance they disagree with.

Quinne: [laughs] I mean, I can understand somebody feeling weird if a musician is trying to influence other people, but we need to talk about this stuff. I’m glad that people are a bit more involved now: saying, “This affects me. This affects people. This is important.”

Okay, so the last time we spoke, you talked about being mired in constant self-doubt. Were you able to overcome that more easily when making this record, or did it prove just as big a barrier?

Quinne: I think it’s getting, maybe, a little bit better; I think I’m a little bit more confident… but, I still struggle with that. I still wonder if anybody’s going to like it. But, when I listen to it, I’m like, “No, no — this is good. I think this is good.” But anytime anyone says that they like it is a relief, because then I feel like maybe I’m not crazy.

What was the first song you wrote for the record, and to what degree did this track determine the direction you headed thereafter?

Quinne: Purity Control, I think, was actually the second song that I ever even wrote as Ivory Towers, and it was re-recorded, like, three times, maybe. There’s a bunch of different versions of it now, and I didn’t get one that felt right until this time.

I don’t know if it influenced the other songs, but it definitely contributes to the political aspect of the album. It’s probably the most outright political song on the record, and it’s also the one that I’m kinda like, “Ooohhh…” [laughs] It took a bit of back-and-forth waffling to put on there, but I did it.

Have you found that people have picked up on the political commentary?

Quinne: I know that people have read the bio about it, so that makes it obvious that it’s political. Gorilla vs. Bear did a really good write up about it; I think he really got where I’m coming from. But I haven’t heard feedback yet from listeners: if they felt like it was political or not. I know my lyrics can maybe be a little bit vague, so I don’t know how obvious it would be to a listener.

How did your process differ, if at all, this time around?

Quinne: I’m getting a bit better at putting songs together. I think the songwriting process was a little bit more straightforward. I definitely used a lot more electronics: I got a keyboard that has some nice sounds on it, so I was using that a lot. I went back and listened to music that I really liked, realised how much percussion was on it, and realised that I could definitely use some more percussion. So I made things a little bit more upbeat and electronic than the last one.

It seems to have given your songs a fuller sound than on Endling. Would you agree with that?

Quinne: I haven’t gone back and listened to Endling, actually, but I’m sure they do. [laughs] They probably have way more layers now. I’m a layer freak: I just layer things on top and on top and on top until it’s just an ocean of sound. [laughs]

What was the most important thing you learned during the process of this record?

Quinne: Every time I make a song, I learn something technical. I learned a lot from the music program I use: different techniques and stuff like that… I think it just made me more confident in my songwriting abilities, and feel like I can do more. With Endling, I was learning a lot, and would kind of let the song do what it would do. [laughs] I’d be like, “What’s happening here…? Okay, that’s happening. I’ll just let that happen because I don’t know what else to do.” Now, I feel like I’ve got a bit more of a system and an ability, and I can change things around more: mould things to my will a little bit more instead of just following where the song wants to go.

When we spoke before you mentioned a habit of putting out music thinking it’s normal, only to find out that others find it a bit weird… Same again?

Quinne: Probably. I haven’t read anything so far saying that it’s incredibly weird, like last time — someone said it was almost unlistenable because it was so experimental. [laughs] Not quite, but almost… This time, from what I’ve read, it seems like people are enjoying it, and it’s been called unusual, but no-one’s said that it’s completely from another planet or anything. So, it’s possible it’s just not as weird. It’s probably still a little bit weird. [laughs]

On a related note: When we spoke last, you said that you were interested in making music that was more accessible with poppier production, whilst also creating songs that are the exact opposite, only barely qualifying as music. Do you feel you were able to successfully achieve both of those things?

Quinne: I was thinking about that. I remembered that I told you that, and I was like, “Did I do that?” I think it is more accessible than Endling. Whether it’s, at the same time, weirder… I think maybe, but in other ways. I think No Devil Lived On is maybe not immediately super experimental, but that was something that I’ve attempted five different times, and I kept failing. I wanted to make an audio palindrome — so the song, if you listen to it backwards, would sound exactly the same — and I was like, “I have to do this!” I kept failing, but with No Devil Lived On I finally achieved my goal. It definitely controlled what I was able to do in the song, and how the song ended up sounding; there were so many parameters that the song had to line up for that to work. To me that was, in a way, more experimental.

Sounds difficult!

Quinne: Doing the drums was the hardest. [laughs] Drums are really dynamic: forwards it goes, “Doosh!” but then when you hear it backwards it’s a “Shoop!” It would sound totally different, so trying to find a drum sound that would still kind of sound like drums when it plays backwards was really hard. [laughs]

Did you have any reference points for how to go about doing it?

Quinne: No. I imagine someone else has done it, but I don’t know if they have. I think that’s why it took me so long: just figuring out how I would go about doing that.

Has the process of making Vile, or the finished work itself, changed your perception of Ivory Towers?

Quinne: Yeah. Originally I wanted Ivory Towers to be more quiet, very organic sounding and very personal. So this has definitely changed that; apparently I can’t resist talking about politics, and I can’t resist using synth sometimes. But it’s been enjoyable. It’s been enjoyable playing some of the faster, louder songs live. So… now I don’t know what I’m doing. [laughs]

This week, I’ve definitely removed myself completely from the outside world and the news cycle. I haven’t been looking at anything because I was just catatonic: I was so upset. I got some Sandman books out of the library, and I’ve just been like, “Maybe I’ll just write fantasy stuff for now.” I just want to live in a fantasy land, because it got too real. But I’m glad that I at least have, to me at least, some strong political statements out there right now.

Would you not say that the politics of Vile already exists within a fantasy shell, so to speak? I mean, ambience-wise, it doesn’t sound like the grim, hard reality of the world: there’s definitely a magic to it.

Quinne: Yeah, well it’s admittedly political stuff couched inside fantasy anyway: Hel’s Belle’s and No Devil Lived On are political statements that are completely living inside fantasy worlds. No Devil Lived On: I was watching these castle documentaries — I think you saw my tweets about this — and Edward I was invading a country in every episode. You’d be watching, and you’d be like, “Oh, we’re in Ireland now.” And then… Edward I would pop up! You’d be like, “Fuck off, Edward! Stop it!” [laughs] I was like, “Fuck that guy. That guy’s the worst! Fuck Edward I!” I was really angry about him, and for some reason — this tends to happen when I’m alone in the house and I’m working late at night: I get weird ideas — I was thinking about maenads, which are one of my favourite creatures, and they’ve been one of my favourite creatures for a long time; they’re the female followers of the Greek god, Dionysus. They look human, but they’re superhuman, and they’re wild women; they’re kind of a metaphor for drunkenness, in a way. They basically run in packs through forests, and anything that’s in their way they rip apart with their bare hands. So if there’s a bull, they’ll just rip it apart; if there’s a tree, they’ll rip it apart. Fire can’t hurt them, iron can’t hurt them: they’re a force. So I was like: What if Edward I ran into a bunch of maenads and they ripped him to pieces? [laughs] I was like, “That’s crazy.” And then I was like, “That would be hilarious if I wrote that into a song.” So I did. It was my political statement against imperialism, but couched in a very, very high fantasy setting. [laughs] I felt like I stuck it to Edward a little bit.

And returning to your comment about how you’re enjoying playing some of these songs live: I know you said before that, some of the songs you’d written, you couldn’t even play live because they were too delicate, so how has being able to have a more expansive live show affected your project?

Quinne: I still had to change these songs around a little bit to be played live, but it’s definitely allowed me to play shows that are a bit more high-energy. It’s definitely allowed it to be a bit more energetic. I mean, it’s still not a dance party. [laughs] It’ll never be a dance party, I’m sure, but it’s allowed the live show to take on different forms if it needs to.

Finally, what does Vile (the record) mean to you, both as a person and as a creative?

Quinne: … I guess, to me, it was just like an outlet for all of the anger and all of the hurt that I feel whenever there’s an attack on people who don’t have privilege and power. It’s my middle finger to people who use privilege and power to hurt others…

… And, I guess, I have this thing that I have a hard time resisting doing, which is being a little bratty, sometimes: just poking the bear, you know? Just going over the top in tiny little ways. Sometimes I think some people would get it, and then sometimes other people might get a little bit offended. [laughs] I was kind of jokingly saying that Hel’s Belles is a little bit about eating men. [laughs] Just a little bit; a tiny little bit. And that’s my taking something and just pushing it a little bit more. But it’s not entirely about that; it was just like a little joke inside the song. That song’s more about how, throughout history, every reign falls; every empire will eventually crumble and kings will eventually get beheaded. It’s about: if you’re privileged, you have power, and you’re treating the people who don’t have privilege and power badly, it’s only a matter of time until they eat you. So yeah: I’m being a little bit bratty.

The people that might be offended by something like that are highly likely the ones you want to offend anyway though, right?

Quinne: Maybe, yeah. I mean, I don’t know if a guy would read that and be like, “I don’t want anybody to eat me!” [laughs]

The post Ivory Towers appeared first on A Lonely Ghost Burning.

Ruby: First of all, it was relief. It was a lot of excitement, but the main thing was relief, because my first three releases were all in the span of a year – I usually do things really fast; I write, record and then it’s done – and then it was almost two years since the last one. I really took my time with this one; I went back and redid things, re-recorded scratch tracks completely, and it was painful and really hard for me, but I’m so happy with the product. I was really relieved and excited that it was finally out, and I just wanted everyone to hear it because I was so proud of it.

What are the specific elements you’re most proud of?

Ruby: I’m really proud of the production quality, because that’s something I’ve always struggled with, and I learned a lot about mixing and all that stuff. I worked with two different producers on just two of the tracks: on Stranger and Jupiter – the rest I did myself. And then, Marty Bak – he’s the guy who I did Jupiter with – he mastered the whole record, so it sounds really polished and clear compared to my old stuff. I’m really happy with that.

You really feel like you’ve made progress from your previous releases, then?

Ruby: Oh, yeah! I think I’m light-years away now from where I was then. I mean, I’m still pretty far from where I want to be eventually, but I’ve definitely improved.

Did you have doubts about the quality or content of your work?

Ruby: With Stranger… it’s one of my favourite songs I’ve ever written, so I knew I wanted to get that one right; I wanted it to be exactly how I heard it in my head. I had this demo; I was happy with the idea of it, but I didn’t execute it well enough. I tried some drumming on it, and it just wasn’t working. So, that’s why I decided to go into a friend’s do-it-yourself-type studio, and, after the first session, I just wasn’t sure. I heard what we’d done so far, and I was like, “This isn’t turning out like my demo, and I’m worried about how it’s going to be in the end”, but it ended up being my favourite on the album. That was my main doubt, but it worked itself out pretty well.

What inspired the general construction of the album?

Ruby: Well, like I said, it was a really long effort; I think I wrote the first song for it probably around the time I released the Funeral Kid EP, so that was October 2014, and then finished the last bit of writing last summer. So, it spanned over a long period of time. I wasn’t sure what was happening really; I wasn’t sure if all these songs were going to end up on the same record, I wasn’t sure what it was going to look like, and then it kind of turned into a concept record, almost, where each song itself is like a Fever Dream; that’s where I got the title from – each one seemed to tell a story that was kind of scattered and almost eerie, kind of dark.

And, given the extended time between writing the first and last songs, do you notice a difference between them?

Ruby: Yeah, I do. Cigarettes and Champagne was the first one I wrote for this record, and I recorded it early on too, but I never went back and redid it; I never made many changes. So that’s probably one that I wish I’d gone back and, maybe, just done a few different guitar tracks or whatever. There’s definitely a difference in the writing style, but also in the quality of the earlier ones compared to the newer ones.

How easily did creativity come for you when writing the record, and were there any particular obstacles you faced in this regard?

Ruby: I think it came pretty easily to me. Writing songs feels like a really natural thing; I just have to figure out which ones are worth recording. [laughs] I didn’t really have many creative blocks. I was experiencing a lot of different things, and a lot of things in my life changed over the course of writing this record, so that inspired a lot of different styles of writing, a lot of different lyrics – more mature lyrics, probably.

And do you have a bunch of songs you’ve written that didn’t make it onto the record?

Ruby: Yeah, definitely. And there are some I think are just as good as the ones that did, but they just didn’t fit in the end. So, there are still a lot of songs that I want to keep working with and maybe release as either a B side, or on a future record. But yeah, there are tonnes that didn’t make it on.

What was the most important thing you learned when making the record?

Ruby: I think I learned that it doesn’t always pay off to do things quickly – not just with music, but everything in my life. Once I get my mind set on a project, I do nothing but that, and I finish it; I’m also a perfectionist, but I kind of set that aside and usually I just want to get things done. But, with this, I forced myself to take a step back and really look at things, really take my time, and I think that really paid off. That’s definitely the biggest thing I learned, so I’m going to continue to do that with future work.

Do you feel that you got out of the process what you hoped to?

Ruby: Yeah, I think I did. I had experience figuring out how to mix songs better myself, had the experience with somebody else’s little basement studio and then the experience in a big professional studio working with other people on my music. I had a bunch of new experiences with this record, and I think I gained a lot from that.

Was it intimidating working in a more professional environment?

Ruby: I was really nervous leading up to it, because I never took vocal lessons; I never thought I would sing, and then I just started teaching myself, so I still feel like I don’t really know how to sing and I’m still really nervous about singing – not really live, but singing in front of people in a smaller, more intimate environment. So, I was nervous, but the guy I worked with, Marty Bak, he’s so professional and so good at what he does that he makes you feel totally comfortable, and I think I was able to do it the same way I would do it at home, just with different equipment and better quality.

Has the process of making Fever Dreams, or the finished work itself, changed your perception of Flower Face?

Ruby: Well, the music is a lot different from previous stuff; I’ve had some criticism about that, but, I’m really happy with where I’m headed, and I think, especially the last track, Jupiter, which is the one I did in the professional studio, seems like a step towards the new version of me, my new music, a more refined thing, a bigger thing. I got into a lot of big, cinematic sounds, which is something that I’ve always wanted to do, but I’ve always been too nervous or worried to branch out into that. So, I think that not only has it changed my perception of what I am and what I want to be, but it’s made me think that I can do that now, that it’s possible, within reach.

I’m guessing working in a studio makes it’s easier to achieve the cinematic stuff.

Ruby: Yeah, it is easier to do in the studio, but I was able to achieve it at home. Before, I would just use acoustic guitar and a keyboard and stuff, and with this, I was like: What if I tried recording electric guitar? I have this electric drum kit at home: What if I tried recording drums on that? And then synth stuff, and string sounds on the keyboard. Raphael and Virgin were both done in my bedroom just with a tiny, little interface. I was really happy with both of them: the way they turned out, and how big they managed to sound, even though they were recorded in such a small environment.

You mentioned you’ve had some criticism relating to the change in direction: What was that specifically?

Ruby: It was actually the first time that I’ve seen – because I’m sure there’s been plenty of criticism – people publicly criticising me. I wasn’t as upset as I thought I would be. I’m really sensitive – I have a hard time taking stuff like that – but I think, maybe, it was because I was so happy with what I achieved. But people were saying, especially about the drums, “I don’t think it adds anything; I don’t think it needs to be there.” But, when I wrote the songs, that’s what I heard, and, once the drums were put in, especially with, like, Stranger and Jupiter, I thought it added so much, and I stand by that decision wholeheartedly.

That’s a good place to be though, right? Being so happy with your work that you can brush off that kind of criticism.

Ruby: Yeah, it’s a good feeling. I’m so proud of what I’ve created that people can say that, and I can take it. That’s their opinion. I’m sure that they have an idea of what it could sound like, and I don’t dismiss that, but I created what I wanted to create, and I’m happy with it.

Was there anything specific you hoped to communicate to people through this record?

Ruby: I don’t know. I don’t really have a moral of the story or anything… I think the whole point of it is to put people in a certain emotional space, and it kind of spans for the whole record, but when it’s done, it’s over. I think it’s more of an atmosphere that you enter into. You’re entering into the fever dream, you’re entering into this dark place, and you’ll come out of it okay, but while you’re there, you’re really there. That’s what I was hoping to achieve.

What mood do you imagine people to be in when they choose to listen to the record and enter that atmosphere?

Ruby: Probably not the best mood. [laughs] The thing is, a lot of people from all around the world are writing me messages and saying how they like it and all this, but I’m not really a big part of my local music scene – not a lot of people around me actually know my music or listen to it – and I’ve had people from my school, who I wouldn’t really expect, come up to me and say, “You know, I’m not gonna listen to this when I’m partying, but when I’m lying down before bed and crying a bit, it’s really good; it sets the mood and the atmosphere.” [laughs] So I take that as a pretty big compliment. It’s cool that my music can evoke such strong emotion: that it can put people in a place of sensitivity and vulnerability like that.

What mood do you imagine people to be in once the record has finished?

Ruby: I think that this record starts out pretty dark with the intro track; it actually features some audio from home videos of me on my first birthday where everyone’s singing happy birthday to me and I start screaming and crying. So, that kind of sets the dark beginning. Yeah, it starts pretty dark and then almost lifts at the end with Jupiter. It has a kind of sadness to it, but it is very uplifting, I think. So, I think it’s almost like – the intro track is called Descent – you descend into this dark place and kind of linger there for a while, but at the end, when I listened to it for the first time, I felt refreshed. And I know it’s because it’s my own work and I’m proud of it and relieved that I got it done, but it feels like it’s a happy ending.

You mention Descent, which is a pretty rough track to listen to if you’re of a nostalgic disposition. How did the idea for it develop?

Ruby: I was watching home videos, and I’m really a fan of using sound samples that aren’t music, in music, especially in the beginning. Back in my Funeral Kid EP, I used a piece from Dead Poets Society in the intro, and I just think stuff like that is really cool and helps to set the mood. So, I was watching these old home videos, and I came across that one and thought it was really funny – I always thought that one was kind of funny; it’s sad, but it’s funny – and I thought: What if I put that in a song? At the time I was starting to experiment with recording electric guitar, because I’d only ever played acoustic – I just started playing guitar a couple of years ago – so I was just messing around with some guitar effects on GarageBand and recording stuff, and the sounds almost made it feel like it was underwater; it had this cool, dark feeling to it. I was like, “You know, I should try. I should take some of this audio and put it in there.” I did it, and the first time I put it in it lined up perfectly and just sounded so cool. I was like, “I have to use this! There’s no going back now!” [laughs]

Your work continues to be emotionally powerful, and I wonder how difficult you find it to write such songs, and whether it has become easier or harder as you’ve gotten a little older.

Ruby: It’s gotten easier to write both really dark things, and happy things. Back when I did my first release, I’d just started trying to sing and I couldn’t play guitar yet, so I just had these weird sounds of keyboard stuff. Everything was really muffled, and everything was really dark. I was trying to do that. Now, it comes more easily, probably because I’ve experienced more things. When I wrote that first record, and even Homesick, I hadn’t really been through anything big in my life. I hadn’t had a lot of the experiences that I’ve had now; I’d never loved anyone, I’d never experienced anything really difficult personally, like my own illness and dealing with that. So, there are a lot of major life changes I’ve had recently that I think makes it easier to reach both ends of the spectrum.

Are there any misconceptions that you feel people have made about you based on the release?

Ruby: I think a common misconception based on this release, and on past ones, is that I’m just this horribly depressed person and everything is terrible. I’ve had a lot of comments on the reviews of my record; I remember someone said ‘This is the voice of someone who’s given up. That’s so sad. How is she so sad? She’s only a teenager.’ It’s like, that’s my art and it’s not necessarily me. There are those parts of me, and they come out in the writing, and I do have difficult times, but that’s not all that I am. That’s just the part of me that I choose to express in the art, because that’s what I think I’m best at.

Does it bother you at all that people don’t necessarily understand that?

Ruby: No, it’s not harmful; it’s not hurting me. I think people can think whatever they want about me, so long as they don’t think I’m a serial killer. [laughs] I’m not going to be affected by it. I’ve had that same thing, where I look up to a certain musician and see them in a specific way that’s not necessarily how they are, but it’s the image that I created from their art. And I don’t think it’s a bad thing necessarily, so I’d be a hypocrite if I got mad at people for doing that.

So what are you most fascinated by, and do you feel you were able to communicate this on the record?

Ruby: … This is just something that applies to me right now, and I don’t know how I’ll feel about it in the future, but just the depth of emotion that people can feel when they’re around my age. Maybe it goes on for a really long time – I don’t know – but I don’t want to lose this strong empathy and pain and elation that I can feel. The depth of all that. And that’s what I kind of communicated. I’ve had some people, like friends of my parents and stuff, say like, “When I listened to this, I felt like I was a teenager again going through all these things, like heartbreak and love and all of that.” I think that’s really cool, and I know a lot of musicians who are young, they don’t want their age to ever be mentioned – they don’t want to be seen as a young person in music, they just want to be seen as a person in music – and I totally respect that, because I know you get looked at in a different way, but I also think that it’s really cool to have people of this age writing songs that come from such strong, uncontrollable emotion that you really experience when you’re only like, 17, 18, 19. So yeah, I’m really fascinated by that, and I think I was able to express that by writing the songs.

That’s really interesting, because I’ve always thought your music seemed especially mature for your age.

Ruby: I’ve always thought in a very mature way, and I’m always terrified of losing this youthful emotion that I have, so I don’t necessarily think I’m purposefully writing from the viewpoint of a seventeen-year-old – I’m eighteen now, but I was seventeen when I wrote the record – I feel almost like I’m writing about those emotions but from a more mature viewpoint, if that makes sense. But, I’m still able to access that depth of it, because I’m at this age.

What imagery do you associate with the record?

Ruby: I think the cover totally encapsulates it; when I look at that image, I think it fits perfectly with the record, and I kind of wrote the whole record with that image in mind. In the actual CDs that I made, I designed everything, and each song has, in the booklet, two photos, and I use all my photography for it. So, each song has its own scene that I set, and visuals are a really important part of the music for me. When I write a song, I always kind of have a visual in my mind, so if people want to see the images that I see when I write the songs, they can get the CD and look in the booklet; it’s all in there.

What do you hope the record revealed about you as an artist?

Ruby: I hope that it revealed the diversity of what I can do, and I know that that’s the main criticism that I’ve gotten – how different it is – but I hope that a lot of people see that as a good thing. I want it to show that I can do more than just play a song with an acoustic guitar; I want it to show that I can do all different things.

Has it been difficult to adapt your live show to the direction your music has taken?

Ruby: Yeah, that’s like the main thing, because when I do shows, it’s usually just me, my guitar and the keyboard; I’ll do, like, half the show with the keyboard, and half the show with the guitar, but it’s a very acoustic, quiet kind of setting. I’ve thought a lot about having a back-up band; I’ve even done a few practice sessions with a few of my friends playing with me, and when I do shows now, a lot of the time I have a friend of mine singing with me. She does harmonies and stuff, and it fills it out a bit. But I really want to branch out in the future and have a more full sound, have a big-band kind of thing going on. Right now, I play every now and again, and it’s just small things at bars and cafes, and I’m doing a music festival in the summer. I need to do more, but I’m just focusing on finishing high school right now.

Finally, what does Fever Dreams represent to you, both as a person, and as a creative?

Ruby: I think it’s a really good representation of every different emotion, from every different part of my life, coming together and turning into something beautiful that I’ve created. So, it’s like, I took all these different emotions, good and bad and boring, put them all together, and they transformed into this thing that’s not even necessarily about me. A lot of the songs aren’t autobiographical, a lot of them are stories I created, but they all came from emotions that I had. So, I think it’s a perfect representation of what I can create with things that come just from within me.

The post Flower Face appeared first on A Lonely Ghost Burning.

Alice: It feels really great. I feel proud of us and what we have done.

Is there anything specific that you’re particularly proud of?

Alice: I don’t know. Maybe, that we recorded it so quickly. We met for the first time in January, and then we released and recorded our EP in the summer, so it was really quick, and that was pretty awesome, I think.

Did you have doubts about the quality or content of your work at any stage?

Alice: Yeah, I did. I think you’re always pretty self-critical, so I doubted it, but I don’t anymore. I’m proud of it, and it feels good to have done it yourself.

Was there anything specific that you had doubts over?

Alice: Perhaps my songs. Since they were my first released songs, it was pretty scary.

Were there any aspects of your songs that you were confident about all along?

Alice: … No, not really. [laughs] I’m pretty self-critical. But, I understood that they were good when Jassy was so happy and so encouraging.

Was there anything that surprised you about the process or release of the record?

Alice: I think all the great feedback that we got: so many new people liked our fan page on Facebook and stuff, and we were featured on YouTube channels. That was really cool, and yeah, it surprised me.

How natural have you found it to be sharing songwriting duties with another person?

Alice: I think that it has been working really well, because we’re fans of each other and really like each other’s songs. And I think we pretty much want the same things and want the same sounds, so it was really easy to make this together. And we are both are open for changes: if I had written a song and Jassy’s like, “Oh, maybe we should try this here.” We’re both really open to trying new stuff.

Do you feel that the process of creating Youth enabled you to grow as an artist or a person?

Alice: Yeah, I think I got more secure in myself. Since it was really scary to release it, it felt so good when we did it.

Has the process of making Youth, or the finished work itself, changed your view of what Blackbird Peregrine is?

Alice: No, I don’t think so. The first EP that Jassy released was perhaps a little more folkish and acoustic, and this (Youth) was a little more electric guitars, drums: a little more [about] instruments. So, that’s the difference, but I mean, I think that we still have the sound that we want. We still have that folkish heart, but maybe a little more poppy.

What imagery do you associate with the record?

Alice: I think of summer, maybe because we recorded it in the summer, but I think I’m Coming Home, Keep You Hand on My Heart and Two Wanderers Lost in the Night are very summer-ish. And youth, maybe; since it’s called that.

What non-musical sources, if any, inspired your songs?

Alice: Two Wanderers Lost in the Night is about love and being in love with someone, and I think everyone has experienced that at least once. Need You Now: I think many people see that as a love song, and it is in one kind of way, but it’s about losing someone. I wrote it for my best friend’s sister, who committed suicide. So, from my friends perspective, it’s like she’s singing what I sing. So, I think I get most of my inspiration from life experiences that I or someone close to me has experienced.

What do you hope that Youth revealed about Blackbird Peregrine?

Alice: Maybe that we don’t just write typical folk songs. Both me and Jassy listen to very different types of music, so maybe that reflects a little more in this EP. There’s more pop, and the electric guitar is a little rockier feeling.

You mentioned self-confidence earlier, but is there anything else that the process of writing, recording and releasing this EP has done for you personally?

Alice: I’ve been doing music for a long time, but a couple of years ago I didn’t get much inspiration, and didn’t feel so much for making music because I wasn’t feeling so good psychologically. That made me really sad because I really love music, but I couldn’t do it at that time. So, it felt really cool to release it. I love music so much and it made me want to do more… Maybe that was not the answer to your question. [laughs] I don’t remember.

Close enough! … Would you say that the process you have been through for Youth has made it easier for you to write songs?

Alice: Maybe. Mainly because I think that I’ve started to just see the fun of it, and not that it has to be really good. I just feel like I write because I like to, and if that turns out to be a good song then great, and if it doesn’t: so what? – [laughs] – maybe the next one will be good.

Have you received any feedback that you’ve been particularly pleased about?

Alice: There has been lots of great feedback we have got, but they wrote about us in Alvesta, where Jassy lives: that newspaper. That was pretty cool: to be in the newspaper. We’ve also got a lot of nice small message from people, just writing, like, “Whoa, it’s great!” and what they like about it. It just feels good to have reached many people, and different people, who like the EP.

Finally: Are you happy with the final work?

Alice: Yeah, I’m happy. I hadn’t listened to our songs for quite a time, but a couple of days ago I logged in on Spotify and listened to our music. I felt proud.

The post Alice Siwe (Blackbird Peregrine) appeared first on A Lonely Ghost Burning.

Jassy: Oh my God. First of all, I was very nervous. It was very nerve-wracking, and since it’s our first release together – me and Alice – it was just an entirely new thing to me. I was shaking, actually. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and I wasn’t able to sleep very well the day before the release.

How long did it take for that nervousness to go away?

Jassy: Perhaps the entire week.

Did you have doubts about the quality or content of your work at any stage?

Jassy: I guess at some point I kind of doubted the quality and content of my work. I constantly asked myself if the songs were good enough, and whether I actually could even call it a song at all. I’ve been working hard and been writing songs as often as I can though, and I like to think that I have somehow improved. I feel more confident in my music now than I’ve been in the past several months when I was fairly new to songwriting. I guess you could say I am still pretty new to it. I wrote my first ever song that really felt like a real song in the summer of 2014.

There must, however, be times when you listen to your songs and think: Actually, these are really good.

Jassy: Yeah. It’s kind of difficult for me to realise that, but since people tell me all the time that they’re really good and stuff, I want to believe that they’re right. Maybe it’s true? Maybe the songs are good?

Have you listened to the record often since it came out?

Jassy: Honestly, yes! I was very excited and thrilled, especially with Two Wanderers Lost In The Night, which is one of my favourite songs. Alice wrote it, and I remember so well the first time I ever heard it. She sent me this super raw and honest recording of her singing and playing it on the acoustic guitar; I couldn’t stop listening! I had this song on repeat for weeks, even months. To me, it’s a powerful song because it made me feel like I was in love, even if I wasn’t, and that says a lot. I’d sometimes cry – I’m emotional like that – listening to her songs, because I think they’re so good and her talent simply amazes me. I’m so glad and thankful she writes these amazing songs. Sometimes, I take a break and try not to listen to the record too often just to avoid getting tired of it, but sometimes I just can’t get enough. [laughs]

Do you feel that your personality was already suited to the sharing of songwriting duties, or have you had to become more tolerant and willing to compromise since Alice came on board?

Jassy: I definitely did not feel I had to become more tolerant and compromise since Alice came on board. She is a great singer and songwriter who makes great songs and that’s all that really matters to me. I trust her capabilities and I want her to have that creative freedom.

You and Alice co-wrote ‘I’m Coming Home’: What was it like writing a song together?

Jassy: It felt different, because I’ve never done it before. But, fortunately, it went very well. We came up with the song in, like, five minutes. We were like, “Oh! Are we gonna have it?” [laughs] It was fun, and I was very excited because it was my first time writing a song with someone.

Stylistically, how natural was the transition from your earlier songs (on Dreams Can Fly) to the much poppier tracks on Youth?

Jassy: I think it was very natural. I guess my earlier songs were just a part of me at the time when I was feeling very folky and too obsessed with the Lord of the Rings films. [laughs] Then I moved on and wrote new songs, met Alice, and Blackbird Peregrine happened. It was very toxic when I met her – in a good way! She’s inspired me a lot. Her Songwriting is a bit different from mine – not too different, but still, a bit different.

I am satisfied with the tracks on Youth. I like to believe they are poppier in a good way. I know many people nowadays look down on those who listen to or make pop music, but I think any music could be pop music if it gets very popular, you know? Pop music was different in the sixties compared to the pop music we have today. To be honest, I sometimes wish I lived in the sixties, when folk music was very popular and singer-songwriters were the bomb! I am not a big fan of categorizing my music though. I just want to make some great music: that’s all.

Were there any themes you specifically wished to tackle on the record?

Jassy: Nothing in particular, really. We just wrote songs and picked the ones we really liked. I’ve always been drawn to the dark and melancholic vibe, so most of the songs I write are pretty dark, although sometimes I try to write less dark songs just to balance it. That’s why I came up with the song Keep Your Hand On My Heart. It sounds bright and hopeful, but at the same time it has that sad feeling, somehow. That’s what I feel when I listen to it; especially the bridge part.

What mood do you imagine people to be in when they choose to listen to Youth?

Jassy: The songs on this record are different to each other. You could be in a sad or happy mood and this record would work just fine. Some people have told me that they listen to the songs when they’re on a road trip. I find it very interesting, and I hope that our music somehow enhances the overall atmosphere of the driving experience. [laughs]

And what mood do you imagine those people to be in once the record has finished?

Jassy: I imagine them feeling completely empty. Like I’m some kind of Dementor from the Harry Potter films and every good feeling and happy memory will be sucked out of you. [laughs] Kidding aside, I think people would be in a happy mood once the record has finished because the last track, I’m Coming Home, is a happy one.

What imagery do you associate with the record?

Jassy: Well, when I listen to all the tracks I’ve got this dark yet colourful, youthful images in my head; hence the cover art I came up with. Actually, I ask my mother’s opinion sometimes because I do trust her artistic and musical instincts. The dark sky represents the sad and dark things and feelings that any young person could go through: that being young is not all great, colourful and easy all the time. We’ve all been in the dark at some point in our lives, and I know young people who truly suffer and struggle. The rest of the image is colourful and it represents the happy and positive part of it.

What non-musical sources, if any, inspired this record?

Jassy: I would say film and poetry inspired me a lot. I love film, and I’ve been watching a lot of them the past several months. For some reason I tend to get cinematic images in my head when I write songs. I have this short little film in my head and I turn that into a song, if that makes sense. With poetry, Edgar Allan Poe has always been a huge favourite. His words have touched my heart on a deeper, emotional level.

What music provided you with inspiration for this record?

Jassy: Blues, folk and rock for me, definitely. Maybe a little pop too, melody-wise.

What do you hope the record revealed about you, as an artist, to the listener?

Jassy: Maybe, some people have realised the versatility in my vocals. I’d like to think so, because I really love trying singing different things in different genres.

Is there any aspect of the record, either thematically or technically, that bothers you?

Jassy: I don’t think so, apart from my singing and playing. There are certain parts I think I could do better; I can’t help but be too self-critical sometimes.

On reflection, are you happy with the creative process you undertook for Youth?

Jassy: Yes! Very much. I love songwriting, recording and all these things. As long as I get to create, I am truly very happy. The not so happy part was when I had a nervous breakdown at the train station in Stockholm after a long day at the recording studio. I couldn’t contain myself any longer and burst into tears, so we had to find somewhere to sit down and talk. I suppose I was being too hard on myself, but I’m glad and grateful that Alice was there to comfort me. She gave me a bear hug and everything was fine again.

Are you happy with the final work?

Jassy: I am! I think the producer of this EP, Chris McGreevy, did an amazing job engineering, mixing, mastering and co-composing the whole thing. I am truly impressed, and I always have been since day one; he’s brilliant! He comes up with these wonderful melodies and sounds I’ve always dreamed of, and I will always admire him for that. Those tiny little sounds mean a lot, even if they don’t seem too evident.

Finally, what does Youth, the record, mean to you, both as a person, and as a creative?

Jassy: This record means a lot to me. It means a lot because it’s our first ever record together as Blackbird Peregrine and we actually worked hard together on something that means a great deal to us. We’ve gained some respect and appreciation and it has opened up new opportunities. But I guess what matters the most to me is the fact that we’ve touched and inspired people’s souls through our music. That we somehow managed to make them feel something. Something brutally honest and sincere. Something that I will never be able to express in any other way.

The post Jassy Gabriel (Blackbird Peregrine) appeared first on A Lonely Ghost Burning.

Nigel: We were sort of persuaded to because, for the first time, someone actually gave us some money to release an album – around about March last year. We’d just done stuff like EPs and that before because it seemed doable, wasn’t a crazy amount of songs and that’s all we could afford to do. A full length album; it’s a bit of an undertaking. It’s been quite hard work actually, but good though… We didn’t even spend all the money!

And how much of a relief is it to have finally released a full album?

Nigel: No relief at all, because it’s kind of like, “Ah, I think it’s rubbish now.” [laughs] It’s like, “We shouldn’t have put those songs on it”. And when you’ve already released a whole load of EPs, how many old tunes do you put on an album? We put a few on – re-recorded them – and tried to do a whole load of new songs. Whether we picked the right ones, I don’t know.

And now we’ve got all the hassle of shipping it out to people and stuff like that, so there’s lots of jiffy bags lying around all over the shop. I’m actually picturing myself at Glastonbury handing out jiffy bags.

Did you have doubts about the quality or content of your work at any stage, and if so, how severe?

Nigel: Yeah, massively; all the way through and especially now we’ve released it. It’s putting it all on one record, you’re just like, “Ugh, rubbish!” I thought that when we released it; I was just like, “We’ve got all the worst tunes on here; this is terrible; we’ve got loads of other stuff we could have put on it.” But actually, we started getting some nice people saying nice things for all the songs that I thought were really bad. So, maybe, I just need to leave it alone; stop thinking about it. I’ve pulled it apart in my head and trashed it, basically.

How has your process as a band developed in the time it’s taken you to make the album?

Nigel: We probably got used to that before then, actually, because we’ve done quite a few other recordings. If I’m doing a song… I’m really bad at singing… Actually, this is on a tangent, but I’ve been singing all day today like a sort of torture for kids. I teach kids guitar, and if they’re looking a bit bored, I’ll sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star sort of songs… So, I sing like that, really really badly with Hattie, finding the right key for it, and then set about recording it. Which takes far too long. We sort of pick around with an acoustic guitar first for a bit, but that’s if we’ve done it right. Usually, we go into the recording of it far too early, and because it’s all done on analog stuff, it’s not like you can change the tempo afterwards. Once you’ve got it at one tempo, it’ll no doubt be the wrong tempo, and you have to start again.

So, in answer to that question, we haven’t refined our writing process at all. [laughs] It’s much better when Hattie writes songs. She writes very occasionally, but they’re much better than the ones that I write. Of all the songs we’ve released, she’s only really written one, and it was the first thing she ever wrote. We didn’t even need to send it to anyone – it was only from our second rehearsal – and it was the first thing that we’d done together that was original. Her boyfriend ended up giving it to a BBC Berks show that passed it onto Huw Stephens, so out of the blue it got played on Radio 1. Then, we got a Maida Vale session out of it and got to play on the Introducing stage at Glastonbury as our second gig. The Maida Vale was our third gig, and then our fourth gig was the Hollyoaks music show. I don’t watch it, but some weird, funny little club thing. So, we got all of that out of it, then for the next five years she didn’t write anything and I did… Nothing happened.

Do you try and encourage her to write more?

Nigel: Yeah, I do actually. She’s getting back into it, and she definitely adds her own thing; she changes the songs quite a lot. But yeah, we need more of her classics.

When writing a song with Hattie in mind, is there anything you have to be technically mindful of?

Nigel: I suppose the key, a bit… Yeah, this is interesting, actually… Obviously I do sing, but in the comfort of my own home where no-one can hear, and I noticed this when we first started doing stuff together – I sort of take on this female club singer persona and get right into it. I do have a sort of transgender persona that I go into when writing songs for Hattie.

Has the process and finished work changed your perception of Vienna Ditto?

Nigel: I suppose it has, actually. It’s a bit of an achievement, isn’t it? We should be proud. We’d got the ball rolling on the recording side of it – got our ideas together for that – quite a bit beforehand, because we had done three EPs previously and a couple of singles… I tell you what, it’s made me think, personally… We were doing one of the songs from the album, ‘A Happy Car Is A Stolen Car’, and we haven’t played it live yet, and when we play stuff live, it changes quite a lot; we do it quite differently. One thing I did notice, practising it live the other day, is that it sounds like a sort of Vienna Ditto parody song. It’s got numerous bits that I might call ‘Vienna Ditto bits’ in it, but it did make me think, you’ve got to do something a bit new now. We’re quite diverse in what we do, and maybe the time now is to focus a little bit more on one of those things. I don’t know which. The difficult second album is probably going to be something ghastly, like a concept album; something dreadfully contrived after the innocence of our first one. So yeah, it makes me think that we’ve got to do something different; there’s got to be some progression there.

And do you have any specific ideas on the table for that?

Nigel: More industrial gospel, I think. I just got myself an old synth which is very very primitive, and I’ve been doing lots of analog sequencing – seventies kind of stuff. So, that with a bit of gospel over the top may be the way, although I’m listening to a lot more folk music than before. It’s alright doing all this American stuff, but you want to sound a little bit English as well. So yeah, English industrial gospel – Staple Singers crossed with Throbbing Gristle; something like that.

Would you say that Circle is generally a heavier portrayal of Vienna Ditto than the material preceding it?

Nigel: It is, actually. We always did a lot of quieter, prettier songs… And I say that we recorded it in the same way, but it was quite different, mainly because I think we were both quite angry, generally. I was really, really sick of being in the studio and, to be honest, a lot of the time when I was there, it was just like, “This is the last place I want to be”. So whereas before, we’d spend hours in there mucking around with the sound system, this time it was a lot more, “Grr! Get this done; get it done really quick.” Which, in some ways, is quite good. You hear about, maybe, when Bob Dylan would record a song, he’d tell the band the chords just before and they’d quickly play it. Obviously, they were all amazing, but it’d be pretty much like take two or something. I was more into the idea of that sort of recording; time-limits to it; going home. Ironically, since finishing the recording, I got myself this new synth, so I’m back in the studio all the time – I thought I’d go out and have a life and never go back in there again.

Were there any themes you specifically wished to tackle on the record, and if so, how successful do you think you were in doing so?

Nigel: I don’t think we could ever do anything quite so intentional as that. I don’t think anything really quite turns out to plan…

No… there was! To start off with, there was a very apocalyptic vibe to everything. I think I was in quite an apocalyptic state of mind, and I remember saying to somebody that that might come out. I don’t think it did, because we didn’t end up using any of those songs. We did one or two kind of apocalyptic gospel tunes – gospel for the end of the world – and they never quite made it on. Maybe that’s what the second record is going to be; it’s all coming together in front of my eyes! So yeah, we intended to do that, but it didn’t work. There are secular themes throughout, which is probably due to reading the book of revelations a bit too much and getting into C.L. Franklin., who was a preacher from the 50s and 60s – Aretha Franklin’s dad. You can get quite a lot of his stuff on iTunes now, and he was a proper fire and brimstone preacher… and fantastic! Absolutely fantastic. We’ve got quite a few samples of him that we use when we’re playing live. Maybe I need to pretend that I’m mad religious for the image? [laughs]

Was there any other music that provided you with inspiration for this record, specifically?

Nigel: The gospel, as mentioned; the really old stuff like Blind Willie Johnson, and newer stuff too, like the Sensational Nightingales. Very early electronic music – when everything wasn’t joined up. Any kind of electronic music that sounded like people didn’t quite know what they were doing, that’s what I like… John Jacob Niles, who was a very eccentric kind of folk balladeer. And Chicha. Lots and lots of Chicha.

What about non-musical sources of inspiration?

Nigel: Well, I must have read every book by Cormac McCarthy, and I didn’t read books by anyone else in between. Are you familiar with him?

I’ve read The Road.

Nigel: I just re-read Blood Meridian, which is quite similar to The Road, but set in the Wild West; it makes you realise just quite how grim the Wild West was. So yeah, I was on that ‘doomy’ sort of thing. I’ve actually just read The Road, and maybe that’s what brought the whole apocalyptic thing about. I’m very much addicted to the spoken word versions – I mean, I’ve got all his books and I’ve read them all, but where he reads his own stuff, and also where he reads other people’s stuff, actually. I’ve got a brilliant version of him doing Masque of the Read Death by Edgar Allen Poe… That’s just one of the most fantastic things ever; absolutely brilliant.

You mention the apocalyptic setting and that it perhaps wasn’t reflected on the album as it might have been had the tracklisting been different. Is there a particular setting that you do envisage the final release taking place in?

Nigel: It’d have to be some dubious, late-night drinking den; somewhere that was busy and decadent, but just before bad stuff was going to happen. I very much see us playing in some dubious concert hall in Vienna, where you’ve got all this strange, twisted Nuart stuff, but there’s something really bad around the corner. The final days…

What was the thinking behind the track ordering?

Nigel: Well, that first one, ‘This Is Normal’ is quite a good intro track, and then we wanted to have another banging one. Then, we thought we should have a quiet, slow one. It sort of worked, because by sticking all the potential singles at the beginning, it means the second half is more of a journey; more of an adventure, in a terribly self-indulgent sort of way, which someone said, and I was like, “Phew! Yeah, that’s what we did…” We knew we had to have ‘I Know His Blood’ at the end of it, because that’s like a final… The rest, they’ve got an order, but unto themselves, depending on what the song before was like. It’s all probably not right; I’ll never be happy with it.

Returning to the process itself, do you feel you got out of it what you hoped to as an artist and as a person?

Nigel: No, and I don’t think I ever will, personally… There were a few things things we managed to do. One of them was just getting songs down, quick, which we did for a few of them, and that is refreshing. The other one is using various little techniques, like, I always wanted to go out in town with a little microphone and record funny noises and record things in strange spaces; the funny reverb you get off buildings. We did quite a bit of that. I really wanted to use some nice synthesizers on it, and we managed to blag a load from a mate and use them, so I was really chuffed about that. We were able to do a fair bit of recording in this magic sounding hall, which is fantastic – we had to sneak in late at night. I also wanted to get some more interesting instruments in stuff, and we got a trumpet on something. I arranged a sort of trumpet fanfare, and I’d never done that before. I wrote it down on the notes as well, so you could read it – a personal achievement there.

What do you hope that Circle revealed about Vienna Ditto as a band?

Nigel: That’s tricky… That there’s some sort of motivation for what we do, in a funny way. That probably sounds really pretentious… That there’s some sort of intention to try and do something a little bit new, which we probably don’t do, but that’s what I hope that it conveys.

I’d suggest that you’ve succeeded in those intentions. It’s really quite difficult to compare you to anyone, specifically.

Nigel: It’s because I write old-fashioned songs. That was sort of the motivation – trying to write old songs but with newer sounding instruments. There are certain old song forms – you know, where you have a refrain rather than a chorus; trying to avoid that big indie chorus. I really like old folk structures, actually. So yeah, I want people to dig our folk structures… I guess most of our stuff kind of sounds like a John Carpenter soundtrack from the seventies, anyway, so it’s not really that modern at all.

Finally, what does the album mean to you, both as a person and as a creative?

Nigel: Ooh, it does mean a lot. What does it mean, specifically…? I just keep getting them out and looking at them (Yikes! … Ed.). It’s a little sort of miniature gatefold thing; it’s quite nice. It means a lot to me… It means we’ve got a lot of work to do, because we’ve dried up the well of songs now. On a more prosaic note, it means it’s the end of a chapter.

You know what… It’s a funny old thing, but do you ever find yourself in a certain situation – which maybe has a big emotional trigger for you – singing a tune and then wonder why you’re singing it? Then, you suddenly think of the lyrics of the tune and it totally, astonishingly subconsciously, completely fits the situation? Well, I listened back to our album the first time, and it was like, “Yes! We’ve done it,” and I started whistling Our Last Waltz Is Over, and it made me stop in my tracks and I thought, what’s that all about? I figured it definitely puts a full stop on what we’ve been doing to that point. We could split up, never do anything else, but we have got an album that somebody could find in a charity shop. This is why we’ve got to get it done on vinyl. Someone could go to Oxfam in twenty-five years time and find our album. So it did feel like it’s the end of phase one. It’s not a dreadful, final thing; it’s like the start of whatever the next bit is… That’s quite good, because it’s sorted it out in my head a little bit as well.

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Becki: It feels pretty good. I definitely feel proud of myself, and I guess I feel like it’s a step in the right direction… Do you want me to elaborate on that? [laughs]

Maybe I should think about it more… It feels good, but at the same time there’s so much work involved in promoting an album and making sure that it reaches the right ears, and as many ears as possible, that it’s difficult to just bask in the glow. But, there is a bit of a glow.

Has the process and finished work changed your perception of Aphir as a project?

Becki: Yeah, it actually really has. I’ve been thinking about that a bit, lately. I guess, up until the album was in the home stretch of being finished, I’d always thought of Aphir as maybe a secondary project for me. I’ve been involved in a bunch of different bands with friends, and I guess I find working with other people to be a lot more fun than just working by myself on something. I mean, it’s great to have full creative control and everything, but in terms of just having people to bounce ideas off, and having people to make jokes with and all that kind of thing, it’s great to have band members. So, I was always thinking, like, “We’ll work on these bands as a main moneymaker, and Aphir will just be this thing that I do to keep improving myself and keep showing myself that I can make music on my own.” But then, when I was close to putting this album together – and I guess I was receiving a lot of feedback from people which fed into this too – I realised that this project has the potential to be more than I initially thought it would be, in terms of the interest that it will generate and the longevity of the project. Aphir’s not necessarily ‘super hip’ music, but there are a lot of people out there telling me that it’s going to last with them, and that’s what I want to make. I want to make stuff that’s going to last with people.

Given that you do like working with others, do you see yourself bringing in more collaborators on future Aphir material?

Becki: Yeah, maybe. I didn’t think that Aphir would be a project that ever included features from other people, but while I was in Canberra over the summer – which is my hometown – I met this girl, Denni, who’s this amazing woman, and she makes kinda folky music and has this really distinctive, powerful voice. So, I was like, “Ah, maybe she could sing on one of these tracks,” and she did the feature in Blaze, and it just worked really well, so there’s definitely scope for including some other musicians. I just need to think about it really carefully, because I’m not sure how precious I’m going to be about Aphir being strictly a vocal project. That’s obviously how it started out, and now I have a whole albums worth of that kind of material. Some people have been coming up to me like, “Are you gonna add drums?” I dunno. Am I? I’m not sure.

Would you like to add drums?

Becki: Well, I’ve been working really hard over the last month trying to improve my skills at midi programming and being able to, not necessarily make it into my main thing, but have it there if the mood takes me. So, I’ve been working really hard on that, and I’ve almost finished producing one song, which I really like, but I’m just not sure that my level of… Okay, let me put it like this – I’m surrounded by all these producers who make these insanely lush, beautiful, nuanced beats, and when I listen to my own midi stuff, I’m like, “Yeah, so this is like, [attempts to vocalise beats before quickly succumbing to laughter]…” It’s kinda not up to their standards, but it’s a good song, so I’m not sure. I’m not sure if I would release it as Aphir, even, so there’s obviously a lot of confusion about what the next stage is going to be, but there are a lot of options too, and this year I’m mostly focusing on touring, so I have time to figure out what I’m going to do.

Were the themes of the record selected very deliberately, or did you just find yourself headed a certain way?

Becki: Generally, when I write songs, it’s pretty natural. I don’t really sit down and plan so much, like, this is gonna be the core theme of this album. I want to get into doing that a bit more. It’s something that I’ve noticed a lot in artists that I really love, like, close-to-home, Alphamale does it lots, and on the grand scale of things, Bjork always has these little themes that all link either her music or her lyrics, and that appeals to me, but in terms of Holodreem, no, I didn’t really sit down and decide on a core theme.

Last time we spoke, you mentioned that Aphir was a gentler version of you than you generally put into music. Given how Holodreem turned out, do you still see it that way?

Becki: I think this kinda taps into thinking about what the album represents about me as a person. I think, basically, with Aphir, it’s quite fragile – the songs are quite fragile, or sung from a fragile voice, and I think the process of writing Holodreem was like writing the fragility out of myself, because obviously… Aphir’s not a doormat, like, you can imagine she’s a little bit sassy, but she is, I guess, pretty preoccupied with relationships and being sad, and I have work to do, so I can’t just think about that all the time. So yeah, writing Holodreem was kind of like making a fragile person in an album, and being a tougher person in real life.

There does seem to be a substantial emotional leap from Invirtue to Holodreem. Presumably this is something that you feel yourself.

Becki: Yeah, so Invirtue was kind of like just a bunch of disconnected songs. Well, there was a thread in there. It was quite a personal EP because that’s all I had to work with at that stage – it was kinda like I needed to draw on this really personal fuel to drive myself to finish the songs. So yeah, there was just a bunch of songs about particular things in my life, and I didn’t know how to produce, really – I didn’t know what a frequency was – [laughs] – so in terms of the leap of production, that’s definitely there as well. But, in terms of emotion, I guess, I see Holodreem as being more coherent than Invirtue.

Was your general process different from what you’ve experienced previously?

Becki: I don’t think it was different, but I think it was an improvement on what I’d been doing before. I recorded it all myself, so I wrote it as I recorded it, basically, and just put down scratch recordings to begin with, and then, when I went back over and wasn’t happy with elements of pitch or execution, I just redid those sections. I mixed it and mastered it all myself as well. With Abandon, I had someone else master that for me, so I guess that element of the creative process was different. I was trying to get a hold of that part of the process myself, which, you know – mastering, you’re not good at unless you’re like fifty years old and have a bunch of sweet analog gear, right? [laughs] But yeah, it was just a challenge that I wanted to set myself. So, I guess it was more streamlined than it had been previously, but doing the same tasks.

Did you have any doubts about the quality of your work at any stage, and if so, how severe?

Becki: Oh, look, I am a terrible self-critic… or a great self-critic – you could look at it that way. [laughs] There are still songs on there where I can hear things that I can improve on, but when I released it, it was like, this is the best form of what I know to do now. But I’m studying audio production at university at the moment, and just getting better at that side of things all the time. And, I’m constantly working on my voice – I try and work it every day. So, there are always little bits where I’m like, “I could do better at this, or I could do better at that.” Probably, in terms of quality, I’m still a bit iffy about Fantasieges. It’s maybe a song that would’ve benefited from a little bit of midi, perhaps, like some drums or bass.

I like that track.

Becki: [laughs] I’m glad you do. I like it in the form it’s in as well, it’s just, I guess, once you start producing and once you start working on digital interfaces where you can actually program the notes in and use different instruments and stuff, there are just unlimited options for how you could produce any song, so that’s in my mind a bit as I make Aphir stuff. And now that I can kinda do midi better, I’m like, “Oh, maybe this isn’t a song that should be in Aphir, maybe this is just a song that I should make a beat for and give to someone else.” So, I guess there are slight feelings of that with Fantasieges, but I’m glad it’s on the album. It fits with the album. And also, The Strongest Stance – I love that song – it’s probably one of my favourite songs on the album – but, I sometimes feel like I could’ve somehow lifted the production of it a bit more, maybe with the help of instruments that aren’t vocals. So, I’m not saying that the versions on the album are the be all and end all of everything. I think there is scope for me to maybe remix them or do something different one of these days. But, I’ll just see what other projects are also up on my radar. There’s only so much time. [laughs]

Did you envisage a particular setting in which the contents of the record take place?

Becki: I guess, always in the back of my mind – I mean, I don’t want to dictate what people are visualising when they listen to this album, but I think it’s safe to say this because a lot of people have expressed to me that they do visualise something along these lines – there’s kind of like a dreamy, spacey landscape that most people seem to be transported to, and I try and be in that zone when I’m listening to my own stuff. When I perform, I wanna be in that zone. It’s just tricky when you’re mixing and trying to forensically pull apart everything that’s wrong with a track and improve the bits that can be improved, to really space out over it.

What music, and other media, inspired you this time around?

Becki: I’m always listening to other artists. I’ve had some really inspirational friends who have impressed upon me the necessity of doing that in order to get better at my own music. So, I’ve been listening to a lot of stuff along the lines of Jai Paul and J Dilla – more hip-hop stuff. Lots of trip-hop kind of things – stuff with lots of reverb [laughs]. Singers like MØ, I listened to lots of her while I was making this. I distinctly remember this moment when I was producing Blaze and I’d been listening to Jai Paul, like, constantly, and I was like, “I’m gonna do volume automation for this little chunk of the song. I’m gonna be like Jai Paul and do volume automation!” Obviously it sounds nothing like Jai Paul, but you know, it was a little bit inspired by that.

I try to read a lot as well and keep my mind for language pretty sharp, because I guess that’s kind of what you need to write good lyrics… This is really terrible, because I honestly cannot remember all the stuff I read and listened to while I was preparing Holodreem… I obviously watched a lot of Star Trek.

Is that pretty standard then?

Becki: Yeah, very much so. [laughs]

What did you hope to get out of the record, intrinsically, both as an artist and as a person?

Becki: Everything I do with Aphir – and I think we actually even talked about this the last time I chatted to you – is like a challenge to myself to make music independently, and to just actually be able to craft my own stuff; to have the freedom of not feeling like I need to veto the emotional content, because when I work with other people… I guess, working with producers, it’s more dancey beats, or R&B kinda beats, and writing these really gratuitously melancholy songs probably doesn’t fit with a “Doo Do Doo” (I tried – Ed.) kind of popping dance beat.

So yeah, I guess there’s a.) the emotional outlet side of things, and b.) independence, confidence, developing my skills – which overlaps. And as an artist, I guess, you’re always looking for greater recognition… Maybe not even widespread recognition, but for the people who actually are listening to go, “Yeah, this is something that is worth listening to. This is something that is worth talking about.” You know, because Aphir’s obviously not designed to be everyone’s kind of music, but I want it to be the best thing that it can be for the people who are into it.

What do you hope the record revealed about you as an artist to the listener?

Becki: Hmm, this is a hard one to answer without going against my politeness programming, you know? [laughs] Because, what I want to say is, like, “I hope that people think I’m awesome!” [laughs]

But no, I want Holodreem to show that I’m dedicated to my craft, and I want it to show that I’m versatile enough, and up for a challenge enough, to take over responsibility for all the different stages of making that artwork. So, writing the lyrics, obviously, writing the music that’s going to accompany those lyrics – so, vocal melody and, like, a full spectrum of sound as well – and then, that I can also produce, in terms of texture and structure, the music that I’ve laid down and even mix and master that myself. I guess, I just want it to show that I’m quite independent when it comes to my art. And capable, I suppose, as well.

Similarly, what do you hope the record revealed about you as a person to the listener?

Becki: I guess I didn’t want it to reveal stuff about me. Like I mentioned earlier, writing the fragility out of myself – I guess I wanted to make myself a tougher person by just sloughing off all those fragile parts. I do still think that there’s a toughness in Aphir, as I said, but I guess I just wanted the sorts of preoccupations that are present in Aphir songs to not be preoccupations in my own life.

What mood do you imagine people to be in when they choose to listen to Holodreem?

Becki: Well, I guess they’re obviously not going to be ecstatically happy. [laughs] It’s a pretty melancholy album. So yeah, there’s that kinda sad mood that people could be in to listen to it, but also I’ve heard that a lot of people like to listen to it when they just want to relax or space out.

And what mood do you imagine those people to be in once the record has finished?

Becki: How manipulative do you think I am…? [laughs]

Look, I really don’t know, exactly. I ordered the songs quite precisely, but not because I thought that I could play on each individual person’s heartstrings. It was more of a personal choice – where I liked each song sonically and emotionally. Blaze being at the end was the main choice I made about the order of the album insofar as influencing broadly all my listeners in a similar way, because Blaze is kinda about appreciating the elements of yourself…

Well, okay, here’s a little insight into Blaze that’s a bit more in-depth. Blaze came from me feeling anxious to the point of feeling sick and like I couldn’t function. Last year was a pretty anxious year for me, because of financial reasons and because of trying to set up my own business and all of this different stuff. I guess, sometimes, when anxiety overwhelms you, you just feel totally detached from the real world. You feel as if going through the basic motions, day-to-day, should chill you out, should put you back in that mindset where you can just get stuff done, but, sometimes, it just doesn’t – you just feel crazy. I guess a lot of my writing has come from those feelings of anxiety. I know that lots of artists work that way – it’s an anxious profession, being an artist, I guess. There are so many hurdles to overcome, and financial hurdles in particular, but I wrote Blaze because there’s this incentive to fight against anxiety and depression and that kind of spectrum of emotions. I think that sometimes there’s a place for fighting against that kind of stuff, but as an artist, I’ve found that I just have to kind of sit back and be like, “I just feel crazy now, and that’s what’s gonna happen.” Some really good pieces of art that I’m proud of have come from that, so maybe there’s a place to accept those feelings…

I hope none of this is sounding corny or whatever. It’s just really difficult to talk about things like anxiety.

It doesn’t sound corny at all. Quite the opposite, in fact. It’s interesting, and I think it’s great that you’re willing to talk about that kind of stuff.

Becki: Well, I think with Blaze it’s important, because my choice to put that at the end of the album was quite deliberate. I didn’t want to leave the album with this sound of, like, “Oh, it’s just a sad girl being sad.” I want there to be some kind of determined conclusion, but I didn’t want it to be like, “We live to fight another day!” or something like that. I wanted it to appreciate feelings that are a bit more real than just hollow inspirational stuff.

Was there anything else that notably contributed to your choices with regards the track ordering?

Becki: There was some degree of chronological ordering – Hyding was the first song I wrote for the album, and I had always thought of it as having this kind of like ‘opening’ feel to it. So, Abandon and Halved, the two EPs that make up the album, have their own distinct feel to me. Abandon is lighter and more anticipatory, then Halved, I always thought of as being the more messed up half, I suppose. So there was definitely going to be some sort of ordering based on those EPs coming one after the other, and then, within that, I guess a lot of the ordering was making sure that no clump of the album came across as just being a big complaint. I know that there are a lot of sad songs in there, and I didn’t want it to be emotionally monotonous at any point.

On reflection, are you happy with the creative process you undertook for this record?

Becki: Yeah, I am. I think in the future there are things that I would do differently for any records that I make. I was quite impatient with this one, in releasing Abandon before the rest, and that was just because I wasn’t quite ready to release a whole album when I wrote those songs. I knew that they fit really well with the second batch of songs that I wrote, so I wanted to release it as an album, but I just needed that initial release to keep up the momentum that I had in terms of inspiration and drive to work on Aphir stuff. I needed to see Abandon as a whole finished product at that point in time, and because I’m not signed to a label for these releases – I’ve worked with Early Music Australia for Abandon and for Holodreem a bit, but I’m not bound to produce an album a year or anything like that – I have the independence to just release when I want to. So, I was just like, “Why not?”

I think in the future I would try and be more patient, I would try and have a bit more faith early on in my initial compositions and just stew on it a bit more. I think it’d be easier to do, because I’ve come a long way as an artist from the early days, and the stuff that I’m creating I’ll be less unsure about or initially disappointed with. ‘Unsure’ is the main thing, like, I don’t think I’ve had any releases that I’ve been out-and-out disappointed with yet, but I’ve always been able to see what could improve and where the weakest points of the releases are.

So, are you happy with the final work?

Becki: [laughs] Look, I’m never going to be totally happy with anything that I make, I don’t think, because I just wanna keep learning how to make things better. So, once I do that, I’m, like, “Oh, I can see how all that learning could apply to that thing that I’ve just made.” But, even though there are things that I would always improve on, I’m proud of the product, and for me that’s the most important thing. I want every work that I make to be of higher and higher standard, but I wanna be able to feel proud of myself in terms of my creative process, and for seeing it through to the end, I guess, too.

I’m pleased to hear that you’re proud of the finished product. I honestly think that you deserve to be.

Becki: Thanks, Jamie. Thanks so much.

In a word, or however briefly you’re able to explain, what, in your mind only, does Holodreem represent?

Becki: In one word? [laughs] I don’t wanna prescribe. I don’t want to set out what I think about it in concrete enough terms that other people might catch that from me and not be able to have their own thing. I think with any piece of art, there are limits on how wildly you can construe it to be whatever you want to construe it to be, but at the same time, you don’t want the artist kinda sitting there being like, “This song is about this particular event, and woe betide you if you don’t think it’s about that thing.” [laughs]

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