Last Friday on Halloween, New York-based label Toadstool Records shared their latest compilation, Trick N’ Treats’, to benefit mutual aid in Gaza. All the profits raised from the compilation will be donated to the label’s pen pals, Saleh and Dana, to support them, their families, their education and their dreams. The compilation features some familiar faces to the Toadstool world, including Youth Large, Joe Fox and Mystery Choir, as well as including some new contributors like screen bride, Volena and Moki.
Toadstool Records is an artist-run independent label and creative hub based in NYC. Started by Caroline Gay as a space for her ethereal instrumental project Ghost Crab, Toadstool Records has become a home to a world of other creatives, offering a supportive and inspiring place to expand on their own and create art with those with similar mindsets. The label is helped run by friends Michelle Borreggine [Dreamspoiler, orbiting] and Jonathan Hom [Mystery Choir]. Trick N’ Treats marks the labels fourth benefit compilation.
The album artwork was done by Lia Kantrowitz.
TRACKLIST & CONTRIBUTORS
Ponytail music – Black Lagoon
Radicchio – Bone Tax
Asyla – exorciser le cœur sacré
Mystery Choir – Horseshoe’s Gone
SOJOURNS – In the Afternoon [MGMT]
dreamspoiler – Little Fang [Avey Tare’s Slasher Flicks]
Every Wednesday, the ugly hug shares a playlist personally curated by an artist/band that we have been enjoying. This week we have a collection of songs put together by Vermont/Chicago-based artist Hannah Frances.
Last month, Frances released her latest album, Nested in Tangles, a project rooted in sincere articulation as she unravels the various distinct knots that have become too tight around her. Highlighted throughout is her guitar work, tapping like bugs in a glass jar, gently caught, culminating curiosity towards the most minute details of her abilities. Although at times wild, playing to pattern shifts and divine accent points, France’s vocals are freeing, like the wisp of smoke from a candle just blown out, that make these songs feel nothing but natural. Following the release of 2024’s LP Keeper of the Shepard, Frances leans into more brash, unpredictable instrumentation, diving deeper into her avant folk voicings that fall into step amongst sharp jazz stylings, heavy distortion and pronounced sonic strain. But through it all, Nested in Tangles showcases an artist invigorated to try something new, taking the good with the bad, as those knots begin to loosen.
The theme of this playlist is Nested in Tangles inspiration / What Hannah was listening to when making the album.
“Had to put the dog down / Ninety-eight degrees out.”
Philly export Soup Dreams comes out of the gate swinging with slice-of-life lyricism and classic guitar fuzz on their debut LP Hellbender. It is an amalgamation of intimate confessionals with songs like “Nothing” and “Dust”, and heavier, electric-driven offerings on “Stray Cat” and “Radiator Baby”. Country sensibilities meld with alternative roots in “Familiar,” where pedal steel cuts through lines about a sweaty bike ride home and playing hooky à la Wednesday.
The indie rock four-piece have gained notoriety through the embrace of the local scene, one that founder Isaac Shalit discovered after they graduated from Oberlin Conservatory in 2021. Joined by Emma Kazal (bass/vocals), Nigel Law (drums) and Winnie Malcarney (guitar), the group found acclaim in their first EP “Twigs for Burning.” With a myriad of musical backgrounds, Soup Dreams teeters the genre line, tied together by the rawness of Shalit’s vocals which somehow always sound like they are imparting a secret to the listener.
I sat down with Shalit to discuss the album and the major themes of Soup Dreams, which they list as, “queer and trans identity, magic and the divine, animal familiars, and the siren pull of the open road.”
“Hellbender” is your first full-length release. Were these tracks all written for the album, or combined from past projects?
IS: I wrote the songs over a 3 year period when I moved to Philly in late 2021. The newest ones I finished writing right before we recorded – the song “Nothing” was kind of figured out in the studio, and I remember it feeling so free and exciting, like there was electricity flowing around the room. At the beginning I definitely wasn’t thinking about recording an album, a few songs even predate the band itself. It was always a dream for all of us to do a full length though, so once the body of work started to solidify it was a natural next thing. The name “Hellbender” is from way before we had even a tracklist, or probably half the songs, and I put it in “The Shining” lyrics as a little easter egg.
The songwriting throughout these tracks is poignant and vulnerable, with lines like, “Still don’t know if I’m a person worth keeping,” serving a gut punch. Often, they’re set to danceable melodies. Is this juxtaposition purposeful? What’s your compositional process like?
IS: As a songwriter I’ve always suffered from bummer disease and one of my biggest fears is having a whole set of songs that just makes people stand and nod their head. I wanted to be in a band and rock out so badly. I think the influence of everyone else in the band does a lot to create that juxtaposition you’re talking about. I’m not always happy with how vulnerable the lyrics are, but it’s what comes out so there’s not a ton of control involved!
“Dust” is a notable moment of tenderness, tapping more into classic singer/songwriter sensibilities. Who are the greatest influences on this folkier side of Soup Dreams?
IS: I was blatantly trying to write a Hop Along song when I wrote “Dust,” and landed literally so far off the mark I almost don’t want to admit that was the goal. It was a moment in my songwriting when I was trying really hard to diversify my chord progressions and add interest there. But I was clearly listening to a lot of softer stuff too – Florist (intimacy and environment), Lucinda Williams (we mention her a lot, the goat), Diane Cluck (freakishness/whimsy), Lomelda (harmony/chord motion, tone).
Which track are you most excited to play in upcoming shows?
IS: We’ve been playing all these songs for a long time actually, although it’s our “new album” there’s a whole other crop of songs that we were just starting to break in at shows right before Hellbender came out. We had to re-learn how to play the album. We’ve always had a tumultuous relationship with the song “Stray Cat” – everyone kind of hates playing it and we joke that sometimes it feels like a humiliation ritual, but I really like it so I sort of make everyone keep trying. When it’s good it’s really good.
Tell me about the Philly DIY scene. How have they embraced you, and what do you hope to bring to audiences from that community when you tour?
IS: The scene is the whole deal honestly. Our whole sound comes from it. Whenever we’re in other cities for tour I can’t help but think about how we’d be different if we came from there. Philly has this scrappiness and aggressiveness, and love for each other, that you really don’t find anywhere else (at least in the radius we can cover in Nigel’s Subaru). Also Philly has hands-down the most trans and leftist music community. So I guess we are trying to bring that, like we’re bringing our HRT injections and a PFLP flag.
You can listen to Hellbender out everywhere now.
Written by Joy Freeman | Featured Photo Courtesy of Soup Dreams
Today, Asheville-based singer-songwriter Sean O’Hara shares a brand-new music video for his song “Day by Day”. O’Hara released his debut album under his own name titled somewhere back in 2023 but had released an extensive catalog under the name nadir bliss tracking back to 2015. Released earlier this year on a split tape with Jackson Fig, “Day to Day” finds O’Hara slowing down, leaning into his inviting production, and taking into account of what’s around him.
Through all the noise, the loose distortion, the meaningful sonic spells and the interchangeable fidelities that play to their own strengths, Sean O’Hara offers songs that stick to you like the hair from a dog, where each piece is picked off one at a time with the care and attention it needs. “Day by Day” feels full from the start, where the weight of heavy distortion mingles with the lo-fi synths that have made this track feel like home. “Take it day by day / don’t be easily dismayed”, O’Hara sings, patient yet sincere in his delivery. And as it goes, the guitars grumbling and light electronics tinker away, O’Hara creates a spacious piece that leaves room for both personal growth and self-reflection while still filling the void of unanswered questions with the warmth in his production.
Watch the video for “Day by Day” made by Ethan Hoffman-Sadka here.
About the song, O’Hara shares, “Day by Day” is a song I wrote about trying to be present when life is difficult & an attempt to remind myself to take things one step at a time, embracing change with a positive mindset. The music video was shot and edited by Ethan Hoffman-Sadka (from Trust Blinks) at & around Shakedown Kava Lounge where I hang out a lot, capturing a regular day chilling with friends, & also exploring the constant way my imagination & perspective turns to music to stay grounded.”
Today, on this very evening, this very Halloween night, Nashville bands Bats and Soot have teamed up to release their new split single “Lift Me Up / Square Donuts”. For Bats, this is the first bit of new music since 2024’s album Good Game Baby, which found Jess Awh grappling with change amongst a smooth blend of nostalgic rust and indie charm. Same goes for Soot, releasing their latest album Wearing a Wire back in 2024 and leaning into the brashness of metal and experimenting with dynamic expression. As partners go, these bands differ in notable ways – but this project, a collaboration that’s been a long time coming for the two Nashville bands, brings out the best of both of their worlds.
From the start, Soot’s presence on “Lift Me Up” is calculated and reserved, but in no way is it timid. Falling down as a roaming guitar grows amongst a light atmosphere tickling the tracks potential release, Micah Mathewson’s voice is so low in register it feels to be dragged through the rough dirt, picking up elements of the environment as the band caries through. Gaining ground and building the tension and texture the Soot in known for, “Lift Me Up” loves the slow burn, finding solace in the accompaniment of Jess Awh’s (Bats) haunting vocals and Nick Larimore’s (Bats) loose pedal steel, each sticking like the dirt and bugs that have latched on for the ride. And when it’s all said and done, Soot’s reserved composit explodes into pounding percussion, brought out by dark layered screams and a strain to the sincere melody, that at last, has broken loose. And as the band holds their own, as Mathewson asks, “how am I supposed to come back down after feeling so high for so long now?”, there is a moment to finally let go of the breath we’ve been holding in this whole time.
“Squared Donuts” starts off in classic Bats fashion, emblematic of the beloved pop facets and responsive traditions of storytelling that Awh uses to piece together a cohesive, sincere and entirely unique profile within a single song. Through glazed guitars and a tight drum beat, Awh’s words become willfully poignant amongst the starry-night landscape, something that Liam Curran (bass), James Goodwin (drums) and Nick have always helped with in connecting the dots. “I know it was a mistake, you were showing off with that gun / Chinese food from the buffet, square donuts,” Awh sings, a collection of thoughts, reflecting on the loss of a friend and the mythologies that arise from memory and grief in a fractured timeline. Amongst discombobulated bits of noise, trinkets collecting in the background, and the accompaniment of Mathewson’s vocals, Bats adds depth to the frustration that lingers in the face of grief.
About “Lift Me Up”, Mathewson shares, “it is exciting to us as a band to keep open the possibility of making maximally spastic, intricate songs and also equally subdued and somber ones. Lift me up has been a song we started writing a few years ago that was always left incomplete. Unfinished lyrics, no structure, but the backbone was there and it was something we did very much so feel like needed to be completed at some point. When a conversation started happening with Jess from Bats about working on a project, it became evident that this was the time to finish this song.”
He continues, “we had an all-star lineup helping us pull this off. Billy Campbell engineering and mixing made recording live so effortless. What you hear in the recording is just the room that day. For this project we wanted to depart from a lot of the production bells and whistles we implemented on Wearing a Wire [Soot’s most recent album] to really just let the song breathe. Jess’ vocals and Nick’s pedal steel playing really pushed it past the finish line and we could not be more proud of what we’ve made together.”
About “Square Donuts”, Awh shares, “Square Donuts is about gun violence. As a kid and as a young adult, I’ve had friends become victims of horrible situations made possible by the gun laws and culture in our country… the song is about those experiences, and what it’s like to know someone who becomes part of a big tragedy, and the tragedy sort of swallows up their identity in the eyes of the world. It’s about friendship, loss, and how we create mythologies. It’s the first song we’ve ever tracked piece-by-piece (not live) as a band, and the first one we’ve ever recorded to tape! The studio experience was a blast; what a privilege to collaborate with Bill (Second Floor Recording) and Micah (Soot).”
You can listen to “Lift Me Up” / “Square Donuts” out now.
Where did your summer go? Not just this one, but all the long ones in the past: you look back through hazy memories, blurred by six-packs of Miller High Life, “a pinch of good luck / a hit of bud,” the seesaw back and forth between the mundanity of your shitty job along with the joys and perils of your weekend haunts, and playing guitar in bed. The trip you had planned and failed to take with your friends recedes in the distance. We’re Headed to the Lake from Guitar doesn’t just take us into the lake: its songs circle its edges, reflecting the frenetic energy of youth via the twists, turns, warmth, and searing heat all present in the songwriting.
Following last year’s Casting Spells on Turtlehead and his 2022 self-titled, Guitar, the solo project of Portland musician Saia Kuli, expands and refines his maximalist bedroom rock project with this new LP from Julia’s War. At its core, Guitar’s music is fuzzed-out indie rock, but while the album retains the self-produced quality of his past work, there are some noticeable changes, with Kuli looking back to push his music forward. “It’s kinda corny,” Kuli admits over email, “but this album really was me going ‘back to my roots’ both sonically and lyrically. That’s why I think it made sense to focus-in on places from my past and present.”
It’s hard to pinpoint Guitar’s pretty idiosyncratic sound. As an artist, different aspects of Kuli’s music have been described in the past as slacker rock, post-punk, no-wave, “warped shoegaze,” “negative, angular rock.” Pointing to his label contemporaries, both formerly on Spared Flesh and currently on Julia’s War, gives you a rough constellation of where his music is located. All of this is genuinely helpful, though I find that pointing out three major strands to his songwriting is most useful for wrapping my head around Guitar and this project in particular: 1.) Guitar as a producer, 2.) Kuli’s involvement in Portland DIY, and 3.) his adoration of 80s and 90s indie rock.
Especially with his last EP, past coverage of his work have rightfully acknowledged Guitar’s hip hop origins, making instrumentals for his brother kAVAfACEunder the moniker of KULI. It feels most evident with the Stones Throw Records-type samples he’s often included in past projects, but you can sense his talent as a producer by his use of Ableton as a central tool in his songwriting in the past: his jagged songs get much of their character from Kuli dramatically shifting the listener between different dynamics, using bizarre guitar tones, and introducing other weird sounds that you might only land on by scrolling through a list of synth patches and dragging them onto the Arrangement View of your DAW. These sounds are littered across the entirety of the album. The third and final single “Chance to Win“, featuring sweetly-spoken vocals from Jontajshae Smith (Kuli’s wife who he’s featured on the standout track “Twin Orbits” from Casting Spells on Turtlehead and other tracks on his self-titled), which by the end of the track features these floaty violin synth stabs that weave in and out of the bass groove that remains. The end of “Counting on a Blowout” repitches a vocal sample of a “hahaha,” chopping it up alongside the final riff.
But with this in mind, it’s important to note that this album feels pretty distinct from his last project precisely because of Guitar’s different approaches to engineering, mixing, and production. “Largely due to my friend Morgan [Snook] (who co-produced the album), I played parts all the way through in one or two takes (instead of looping and chopping takes), had a real bass (as opposed to pitching down my guitar), and my homie and former bandmate Nikhil Wadha laid down ripping drum parts for all the songs,” Kuli explains. Influenced by touring with the previous EP, this project was written with a live band in mind, and it’s felt.
Things sound noticeably brighter than before, opening the floor in the mix for more foundational elements of his music to shine a bit more. Programmed drums are traded in for Wadhwa’s tasteful live recordings on kit, giving the album newfound energy. Instead of the warped and pitch-shifted murmurs he would often deliver in his early work, Kuli’s vocals are much more at the forefront, evidenced by his initial two singles. Kuli’s goofy, easeful scatting on “Pizza for Everyone” feels like a vocal line Stephen Malkmus might sing; he belts out emo harmonies on the heart-pumping “Every Day Without Fail” (in addition to the hardcore screams at the end screamed with vocalist Zoe Tricoche). Instead of replacing the weirdo charm of his previous work, the more polished production on the project, done alongside this broader list of collaborators, actually enhances the wide breadth of ideas Guitar has always explored throughout his work.
“This album was shaped by Portland in a big way,” Kuli declares. “I think part of that was a reaction to people thinking we were a Philadelphia band a few times on the East Coast and in the Midwest. That’s something I definitely take as a compliment, but it also made some hometown pride well up in me.” The aforementioned collaborators aren’t brand new. In addition to his production, Kuli cut his teeth in Portland’s DIY punk scene, playing with artists like Nick Normal, Gary Supply, and alongside his former labelmates on the unfortunately defunct local label Spared Flesh, that gained him associations with the egg punk and DIY rock and roll associated with underground rock tastemakers like Tremendo Garaje and tegosluchamPL.
This grimy, weirdo rock energy is infused throughout his work, and when we’re plunged into dissonance, it never feels out of left field since it already feels like we’ve been there from the start. The warm acoustic plucks at the start of “A+ for the Rotting Team” lead into a singsong-y buildup before Kuli remarks “time to go,” and a dissonant riff rings like an alarm before shuffling us into the power pop of the rest of the song. His song structures will have an A section that goes into a B section that goes into a C section into a D section, often never looking back (the lead single “Pizza for Everyone” lands far from where it starts) – out of a playful sense of indulgence and a gut instinct for the most interesting place for each song might go. Late 80s and 90s indie rock, the jangle and pop sensibilities of artists informed by the C86 / Glasgow scene like Jesus and Mary Chain, Teenage Fanclub, and more, but most evidently the lo-fi playfulness of American cult indie darlings like Pavement and Guided by Voices, the latter of whom Kuli has frequently cited as an influence in the past. This third pillar of Guitar’s music feels incredibly clear on We’re Headed to the Lake, where Kuli often sounds like he’s invoking Robert Pollard on several tracks, both in voice and creative tendencies: Kuli is also a songwriter brimming with a million ideas that he’s compelled to explore, even the short sparks of inspo. Tracks like “Ha”or “Office Clots”, with their brevity, serve less like interludes and more like the concise, brief song ideas of Bee Thousand. This influence is worn on the sleeve of this album. Kuli’s love for the lo-fi, slacker, and jangly indie rock infuses the project with a sun-drenched nostalgia that, when paired with a lot of the lyrical ideas that Guitar explores, gives the whole album a conceptual unity that’s been somewhat missing compared to the more mixtape-y nature of his previous projects.
Kuli’s desire to look backward is important thematically to this album, with his appreciation for his home showcased by the sentimentality for specifically his weekend haunts. “When I think of Portland, it’s specifically the rundown parts of town that lack Portlandia shout-outs that stick out to me. Corner stores, self-serve car washes, pawn shops, payday loan places, etc.” Kuli envisions Benson Lake a little while east of Portland when referring to the album’s title. “Really only a place you go if you grew up here, and it’s mostly families of the working-class sort that hang out there and barbecue and cool off.”
As Guitar looks backward to the places he grew up, some classic motifs arise: youthful desire, an insatiable need to hang out and escape boredom despite your empty pockets (“Nickels in the furniture / but no cash”). Sometimes Kuli leans into a serious sense of disquiet from that restlessness through his lyrics, as he croons on “A Toast For Tovarishch”, “I can’t sit around and wait.” In other songs there’s a sense of playfulness toward invoking youth, like in the tongue-in-cheek refrain of “The Chicks Just Showed Up” that point to the simple wins in life that change things for the better: “The chicks just showed up / they’re super tough / the coffee’s free.” Kuli frequently references games throughout the project, both invoking literal images of sporting events, like seeing another person on the jumbotron in “Pizza for Everyone” or winning a parlay in the “The Chicks Just Showed Up” (“cha-ching”), but also more gestural images and mantras that apply beyond a field, like new seasons beginning, striving to not “give up just yet” at the end of “A+ for the Rotting Team”, and going for broke in The Game Has Changed.
Guitar continues to do the latter with his guitar work: Kuli’s focus isn’t on virtuosic solos — although he displays some impressive chops throughout the project, with highlights on the Weezer-y “The Game Has Changed”, where the acoustic meanderings in the verses are later traded for a scorching lead line by the climax of the track — but instead on stuffing songs to the brim with shrewd guitar lines that call, respond, and bend to each other in interesting ways. In the center instrumental break of “Cornerland”, Kuli pits two spider-y guitar lines against each other on each side of the stereo mix, both racing in parallel to the driving bass line in the middle. The main guitar riff for “A Toast For Tovarishch”, though its continuous pedal tones maintain a warmth throughout the track, reveals a sense of unease with its stilted phrasing. Kuli is undeniably great at his instrument, but the real strength of Guitar’s guitar is the arrangements. This album continues Guitar’s sharp decision-making when it comes to stacking complementary guitar parts on top of and in response to one another and knowing when to hold back so those explosive moments of layers stacked upon layers feel even grander.
The ninth track on the album, “Pinwheel”, is a great encapsulation of the whole project: the lo-fi yet newly polished mix, the expansion on both his own style of songwriting and indulging his influences, the sound of youthful angst, and a maximal showing of all his cards by the end. In opposition to “Office Clots”, where Kuli is “stuck on the carousel,” rotting at work, this song spins the other direction. It’s a continuous buildup of elements, starting with spare, downstroked guitar chords, with Kuli looking through his memories and recalling his need to prove himself, “Now we got them where we want / All the usual weekend haunts / distant memories / we curse you first / we’ll catch up, somehow,” building and building until the final hook: “How we multiply / we formed a line / tear in your eye / need to send it off.” The song culminates with my favorite instrumental outro of the year, with the drums finally arriving to catch the groove of a brick-headed, gloriously simple chord progression, glistening synths soaring overhead, and a monstrously saturated, low-end lead guitar that brings us to the song’s end. It feels like fireworks set off over water.
We’re Headed to the Lake sees summer spinning again and again, the endless taking of risks to fulfill that “need to send it off,” to jump into that water. Guitar treads the usual weekend haunts, ground that’s been walked before, both by leaning into his beloved influences and by maintaining his other various idiosyncratic approaches to songwriting, bringing us bleeding-edge indie rock colored both by his eccentricities and memory. Even as we move into autumn, We’re Headed to the Lake brings us back into the heat anew even as we often meander away. “The sky glows in my window / the mind wanders from the light / it’s alright.”
You can listen to We’re Headed to the Lake anywhere you listen to music as well as order cassettes and CDs from Julia’s War.
Written by Patrick Raneses | Featured Photo by Ryan Belote-Rosen
Every Wednesday, the ugly hug shares a playlist personally curated by an artist/band that we have been enjoying. This week we have a collection of songs put together by Toronto-based band cootie catcher.
cootie catcher make music that elicits nostalgia for a time of technological optimism. For iPod Nano childhoods and My Space pages flooded with photos we now deem “bad quality.” For people who grew up with the concept of the cellphone, but also watched it’s violent progression from a flippable device that facilitated Friday night plans to… whatever the hell you want to say about our contemporary relationship to the thin miniature screens that never leave our pockets. Earlier this year, the Toronto based four piece shared Shy at first – the album a swirling of indietronica in its most darling form possible. Brimming with eccentric glitchy elements and tech motifs, Shy at first imagines a sweet digital world where the tender fragments of humanity can still thrive. The record is earnest and conversational; lines like “my face is all corrupted html files” and an arsenal of eccentric electronic elements are softened by an endearing indie twee feel that leaves a smile on your face and a mark on your heart.
Adriana McCassim is an LA-based, Asheville-raised songwriter who shares with us her new single “Rust” out everywhere today. Returning to I’m Into Life Records, this is the first bit of new music from McCassim since her debut LP, See It Fades. Released back in 2024, McCassim invited the discomforts and bad habits into her dynamic space, her deliverance nothing short of empowering, bringing both a gripping presence and tender release to the here and now that she was writing from. Now brushing off the cobwebs, “Rust” finds McCassim returning to this space with both vulnerability and perseverance.
With a chill in the air, “Rust” opens with a voicing of gentle synths that spread like goosebumps down your arms, only brought to a reasoning from the light drum machine underneath. Although McCassim’s voice is the haunting focal point of each one of her songs, each instrumental piece becomes a limb in and of itself as “Rust” embodies a full heart consumed by a lost soul. As rich guitars rattle from its core, pumping blood throughout the space, we can’t help but to wonder if it’s enough to keep going. McCassim’s simple, yet fixated refrain, “Don’t rust your love”, leaves each word to its own means as she grapples with the space left open to the elements.
Photo Courtesy of Adriana McCassim
About the single, McCassim shares, “Rust is about the fear of corroding something beautiful – a plainspoken reflection on self-sabotage, intimacy, and the struggle to let someone in. It’s rooted in country music I was listening to at the time, and recorded mostly live. The track layers drum machines and electronic textures to create that textural world. This was the first time I played with a drum machine and live drums. It felt more human and interesting to listen to. We wanted this drone effect, and repetition, that eventually falls down by the end of the song emulating the lyrics.”
Listen to “Rust” here!
We also got to ask McCassim a few questions about “Rust” and how it came to be.
Following your debut LP, See It Fades, released late last year, as you continue to write and record, where does “Rust” fall into where you’re at in your life both creatively and personally?
Rust, to me, feels like a bridge in between See It Fades and this next record I’ve been working on. I was really on the fence with whether or not to include it on the next thing, but it felt so singular and important to put out now. I wrote Rust about this period in my relationship where I was really navigating self-sabotage and trusting myself. It really lives in its own world, creatively speaking, and feels like something other people might relate to.
Compared to the process on your last release, were there elements when writing “Rust” that came out of trying something different? Was there anything you challenged yourself to accomplish?
I think so, yes. This song was written in one sitting, oddly enough, while I was taking a School of Song Adrianne Lenker class. We were working on incorporating the idea of droning sections while writing – this song fit that mold especially just living within two chords the entire time. I really challenged myself to be as literal and honest as possible. Almost like an unravelling.
I also felt excited about starting this song with a drum machine, sort of in the demo phase, and following through with using it in the final version. Which we ended up achieving 🙂
Your songwriting has always been strickenly personal, and this song grapples with habits and the struggle to let someone in. Were there any feelings that surprised you as it was coming together? Do you find any comfort in the song, or does it sit as more of a reflective piece?
Totally. Everything that fell out first go around is pretty much in the song now. There’s words about corroding my relationship, my previous issues with ED, and just feeling deep self defeat. I wasn’t necessarily expecting that to unravel in one frame.
Now when I listen back, it does feel really comforting. Like a reminder and less punishing.
“Rust” was written inspired by the country music you were listening to at the time. What elements of a country song draw you in and how did they influence how this song came to be?
What I love most about country music is how honest and plainspoken it is. Oftentimes, it feels like a story first go around without fear of upsetting the listener. I wanted to emulate that. I was listening to a lot of Bill Callahan and Arthur Russell albums at the time.
Do you have anything planned for the future?
We are about half way through working on a new album right now, I feel so excited about what we’ve made so far. It’s such a different approach than See It Fades, mostly done live in the room at my house. Can’t wait to share it hopefully next year. We will see 🙂
You can listen to “Rust” out now, as well as order a cassette of See It Fades via I’m Into Life Records.
I have never gravitated towards astrology as a tactic for measuring compatibility. Perhaps it’s because I have never done ample zodiac research – instead I turn to slightly more specific litmus tests , like do you insist on using a Brita? Or, what lo-fi bedroom project resonates the deepest with you? Sometimes, the latter is merely a matter of surveying one’s thoughts on the Brooklyn based project, People I Love. It is a somewhat self-serving probe, with lines like “my relationship with words has a gold key” and reoccurring grievances pertaining to attending parties – People I Love’s discography is chock-full of anthems for the socially reserved. But, even if your Myers Briggs begins with an “E”, I think there is a grandeur weaved carefully into People of Love that requires a certain level of intentional and emotionally aware listening to fully appreciate (therefor setting it up as personality assessment gold). Within tracks that rarely surpass three minutes and structures that aren’t trying to prove themselves, there are parcels of complex emotions tucked in the intimate and lived in corners of each song, and an opulence that grows with each listen.
Today, People I Love shared new track, “Perfect.” Featuring Avery Kaplan on drums, as well as and guitar, piano, and slide contributions from Boone Patrello (Dead Sullivan), it’s a song about longing to be perfect…maybe. It strays from commercialized notions of perfection, dodging 9pm bed times, self-improvement books, and $16 green juices (although if I were a hypothetical gym rat, I could see the bridge pushing me to an arm day PR) and instead prods at something darker. “Perfect” opens with going about felt the bloody air / spying around find a violent stare wanna explode – but even without this lyrical agony, the track in its entirety flirts with detonation. Leading with a fleeting warmth that quickly transcends to an intense, pressure cooker kind of heat, “Perfect” conveys a dysregulated mood threatening to burst. The general soundscape is a moving target, springing from cascades of dejected guitar, quirky pitch bending, angular percussion, and Dan Poppa’s signature frothy vocals. It’s also rather catchy, sure to have you seething “wish I was perfect, my blood they’ll inject it” throughout this (appropriately timed) week.
the ugly hug 