Skip to main content
 
  • Recording Academy
  • GRAMMYs
  • Membership
  • Advocacy
  • MusiCares
  • GRAMMY Museum
  • Latin GRAMMYs
GRAMMYs
  • Advocacy
  • Awards
  • Membership
  • GRAMMYs
  • News
  • Governance
  • Jobs
  • Press Room
  • Events
  • Login
  • MusiCares
  • GRAMMY Museum
  • Latin GRAMMYs
  • More
    • Governance
    • Jobs
    • Press Room
    • Events
    • MusiCares
    • GRAMMY Museum
    • Latin GRAMMYs

The GRAMMYs

  • Awards
  • News
  • Recording Academy
  • More
    • Awards
    • News
    • Recording Academy

Latin GRAMMYs

MusiCares

Advocacy

  • About
  • News
  • Issues & Policy
  • Act
  • Recording Academy
  • More
    • About
    • News
    • Issues & Policy
    • Act
    • Recording Academy

Membership

  • PRODUCERS & ENGINEERS WING
  • SONGWRITERS & COMPOSERS WING
  • GRAMMY U
  • More
    • PRODUCERS & ENGINEERS WING
    • SONGWRITERS & COMPOSERS WING
    • GRAMMY U
Log In Join
  • SUBSCRIBE

See All Results
Modal Open
Subscribe Now

Subscribe to Newsletters

Be the first to find out about GRAMMY nominees, winners, important news, and events. Privacy Policy
GRAMMY Museum
Membership

Join us on Social

  • Recording Academy
    • The Recording Academy: Facebook
    • The Recording Academy: Twitter
    • The Recording Academy: Instagram
    • The Recording Academy: YouTube
  • GRAMMYs
    • GRAMMYs: Facebook
    • GRAMMYs: Twitter
    • GRAMMYs: Instagram
    • GRAMMYs: YouTube
  • Latin GRAMMYs
    • Latin GRAMMYs: Facebook
    • Latin GRAMMYs: Twitter
    • Latin GRAMMYs: Instagram
    • Latin GRAMMYs: YouTube
  • GRAMMY Museum
    • GRAMMY Museum: Facebook
    • GRAMMY Museum: Twitter
    • GRAMMY Museum: Instagram
    • GRAMMY Museum: YouTube
  • MusiCares
    • MusiCares: Facebook
    • MusiCares: Twitter
    • MusiCares: Instagram
  • Advocacy
    • Advocacy: Facebook
    • Advocacy: Twitter
  • Membership
    • Membership: Facebook
    • Membership: Twitter
    • Membership: Instagram
    • Membership: Youtube

GRAMMYs

GRAMMYs

  • Awards
GRAMMYs

Kate Bollinger

Photo by Jonathan Roensch

News
Kate Bollinger On New EP, 'A word becomes a sound' kate-bollinger-explores-power-nuance-communication-new-ep

Kate Bollinger Explores The Power & Nuance Of Communication On New EP

Facebook Twitter Email
Fresh off of graduating from college, the Virginia native talks to GRAMMY.com about her distinctive approach to writing and the nuances of communication
Gabriel Aikins
GRAMMYs
Aug 17, 2020 - 1:41 pm

Listening to music is a deeply personal experience. Even if a song is explicitly about a certain event or feeling, each listener will bring different views or memories to the track that can change their perception. This is an inevitable part of making any art, so songwriter Kate Bollinger went and made her music this way intentionally.

Whether listening to her 2019 EP I Don’t Wanna Lose or tracks from her new EP A word becomes a sound (out Aug. 21), listeners will find that the Virginia native has given them ample room to graft their own experiences onto her songs. Recent single "Feel Like Doing Nothing" is a whimsical track that showcases both the pop sensibilities and jazz flair that defines her music, but lyrically it’s broad enough to be an ode to off days or a rallying cry to keep going; it’s up to the listener to decide what they want it to be. That’s not to say Bollinger doesn’t think about how she writes and communicates through her music. From the title to the writing style, A word becomes a sound is the product of Bollinger thinking a lot about how people share and interpret information from one another. Its creation also coincided with the beginning of the shutdown resulting from COVID-19, necessitating an adaptable approach from Bollinger and producer John Trainum to bring it all together.

GRAMMY.com caught up with Bollinger at the end of a busy summer, as she finished a cinematography degree from the University of Virginia and moved to Richmond while putting the finishing touches on the project and navigating the pandemic. She took a break from unpacking to chat about her distinctive approach to writing and the nuances of communication.

 It's an exciting time between your move and the EP coming out. How are you feeling having this out in the world for people to hear?

I'm so excited. I'm the kind of person who will write a song and want to release it right away, so having more of a team working on my music has been great but it’s also been getting used to things taking time when more people are involved to make the project ultimately better. I'm very excited to finally be getting it out because now it feels like I wrote the songs forever ago, and I guess it really hasn’t been that long.

With the writing, you've said you keep it intentionally vague to let listeners put their own experiences onto the song and make it their own. How did that approach come about?

I don't think I go into songs with much of an intention. Eventually while I’m writing a song I just find what I’m writing about. I don’t go in knowing what I’m going to write about. That kind of approach started in a pretty natural way and I realized I was doing it more than I meant to actually be doing it.

The title A word becomes a sound, is the central song of the EP and obviously the name of it. I think it's a really profound way of looking at the power we can give communication. What made you arrive at that for the central theme of the EP?

There were multiple things. One of them, I was reading a bunch by the author [Vladimir] Nabokov, the Russian author. And I read this one short story that he wrote called "Terror," and it’s about a guy who you see the process of him going crazy and disassociating. It's this concept I really liked that he was simultaneously really lonely and feeling really isolated but then when he would be around his partner he was also feeling too uncomfortable to be around another person. That was one of the concepts I loved. There was another part of the story where he went outside and he described how all of the objects like the houses and trees and the people and the cars and everything just were reduced to their name or their title. I took that another step further thinking about how I communicate now. A lot of the time I’ll say something and then later I’ll think about it and I’ll be like, "Well, that’s not at all actually what I mean." And there’s another layer where the person probably interpreted it a totally different way then how I said it, which wasn’t even representative of what I meant. The title is meant to mean a bunch of different things and I think it's vague enough too that people will come up with their own meanings as well.

With the music on the EP and your previous music too, you incorporate a lot of jazz elements alongside the folk and pop side. How do you balance more of the improvisation of jazz with the more structured pop elements?

I like jazz, but I think it’s honestly starting to work with the musicians who are in my band that I started working with a little over a year ago now, who are jazz musicians. I think they added that element a lot. I don’t feel like we improvised necessarily a lot as a band, I feel like I'm the one who brings the structure of more of a pop song to them and then they add the elements of jazz and a little bit of improvisation. And now that we all know each other well and know how each other plays music I feel like we can start to improvise a little bit more, which has been cool.

You grew up surrounded by a lot of music: brothers were in bands, your mom was a music therapist. What aspects of that upbringing do you bring to your writing today?

The main way that impacts me is just that it was always around. It was always how people who grow up in families that play sports all the time, it’s just always around and it’s a really natural thing to do. And that’s how it was in my family. There wasn’t any pressure really to do it, but it was just something that was always there. Then it was in sixth grade my mom gave me a guitar because I had been writing songs a cappella for awhile, since I was little. She got me a guitar and taught me a few chords and then I just took it from there and it felt really natural.

Do you still start writing with the guitar?

Definitely. If I'm writing alone I’ll start with the guitar part and then I’ll write a vocal part. Or my main collaborator is [my producer] John—sometimes he’ll send me a beat or he’ll play me something on keys and then I’ll learn it on guitar. It can happen a bunch of different ways.

Speaking of John and the production of this EP, I understand it changed quite a bit when this pandemic started and everything shut down. What was it like adapting the process to this new reality?

I think the main thing that changed is that on the earlier EP, I Don't Wanna Lose, the first EP I did with my band, we learned all the songs and had been playing and rehearsing them, and then we recorded all five songs as live takes in one day at the studio. For this EP I wanted a mix, I knew there were a couple songs John and I were going to record that were more beat-driven that didn’t involve as many live takes or live instruments. And so we had to adapt to the idea that there wouldn’t be really any full band live takes other than a couple things we had previously recorded. It was a lot of piecing things together, which ended up being really fun because I was more involved in the production stuff and there was more production on this EP than the last one. Whereas the last one was just my band capturing us playing the songs as we did live.

With the cinematography degree, is there anything you learned about film that you've taken into writing music?

I think I've started to see–just having seen and been shown so many films that I probably wouldn’t have watched normally in my class–I do automatically now start to see visuals with my songs. I don’t think I was really doing that before, I've always pictured visuals that could go along with songs I write, but now it feels like it’s based off more of an understanding of what things could look like or what I'm capable of personally filming or people that I work with.

Aminé Talks New Album 'Limbo,' Portland Protests And Black Lives Matter

Grammys Newsletter

Subscribe Now

GRAMMYs Newsletter

Be the first to find out about winners, nominees, and more from Music's Biggest Night.
GRAMMYs

A.G. Cook

Photo: Alaska Reid & Julian Buchan

News
A.G. Cook & The Art Of A Perfect Pop Song ag-cook-art-perfect-pop-song

A.G. Cook & The Art Of A Perfect Pop Song

Facebook Twitter Email
The prolific pop experimentalist, producer and PC Music founder talks to GRAMMY.com about his forthcoming album 'Apple,' covering Smashing Pumpkins and a brief history of auto-tune
Noah Berlatsky
GRAMMYs
Sep 6, 2020 - 6:48 am

On the phone, producer and musician A.G. Cook sounds exactly like his pop creations—cheerful, accessible and eager to race off on a tangent to explore the next new shiny idea that comes his way. Smashing Pumpkins, Cher, and Theodor Adorno chime and dance and spiral around each other as he talks about making music that hooks you with a fuzzy bath of odd angles.

Cook's best known as the founder of the PC Music label, and for producing Charli XCX's last string of critically acclaimed albums. He's mostly been content to let other artists headline his upbeat, eclectic, warped productions. But that's all changed this year with the release of his album Apple (out on Sept. 18), preceded by a seven-CD set (!) called 7G of new songs, covers, experiments and irrepressible everything. We talked about pop music, auto-tune, and what it's like being the headliner for the first time.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

You've released so much music this year! This seven CD 7G set, the Apple album; the Charli XCX album How I'm Feeling Now. You have a collaboration with Jonsi coming out. How on earth have you managed to do all this?

I actually finished the Apple album about a year ago. And I was just looking for the right way to contextualize it. And then with the 7G stuff, some of it was done kind of recently, but it's really an exploration of all the sounds that went into Apple. It's a time travel look at things I've been exploring since day one, since seven years ago when I was starting to do this full-time.

Obviously I'm fairly prolific and work with different people. But also I just thought it was the most true version of me to be quite saturated and seeing things from many different angles at the same time. That just felt like the right way to  do a debut.

Were you influenced by COVID and being forced to bunker down at home?

Elements of 7G for sure have a bit of this sort of COVID headspace. I've noticed that me and friends of mine—just having our time organized so differently meant getting deeper into weirder music or music that would actually take up more of your time.

You know, normally, I'd be like in an Uber hearing music on the radio and engaging with pop music in that way. But now I'm falling into the more eclectic side of streaming or even classical music. Suddenly, that all seems a little more approachable, and you end up enjoying the escapism of these slightly more epic projects.

So I think that also gave me the confidence to release it all at once. Rather than 7G being a big series or something, I tried to rationalizes this as an actual album. Because I think that's how I'm digesting music at the moment.

These are your first full-length releases under your own name. Is that very different than collaborating with others on their album?

Not really. A lot of the people I work with I'm fairly close to. And other people feed into my music too, so their voices appear and disappear even if I'm kind of up front. So I definitely try and keep some of the collaborative vibe.

I'm always writing little songs and recording into my computer and doing that with friends and passing the mic around. I've always had this diary-entry form where I'll come back to a thing that reminds me of something or a song file I started a few years ago and be like, "Oh, this still resonates with me. Maybe I need to look into this properly."

It is you singing on most of these tracks, right? On Apple the songs "Lifeline" and "Oh Yeah," that's your voice?

Yeah. "Lifeline" sort of evolves into Caroline Polachek's vocal by the end. But it's mainly my vocal. In a lot of the songs on both albums you hear me playing with my voice and seeing either how polished I can get it or how raw.

The whole notion of recording your own voice or hearing your own voice back I think is sort of fun. I like the freedom that sometimes I've done loads of work to it, sometimes it's sort of just as it is.

On  "Oh Yeah," the vocal is almost ridiculously upfront. It's not meant to be fully humorous, but it's meant to be very human. You can hear my voice sort of trying to catch up with the melodies.

One of the songs I was surprised to see you cover on 7G was the Smashing Pumpkings' "Today."

There's certain kinds of hooks that I'm just drawn to. I always heard the main riff as a Sigur Ros thing. It's got this interesting thing with the chord shifting—the chords barely repeat in that song.

"Jumper" on Apple seemed to pick up some of the melody of "Today." Was that intentional?

"Jumper" was me thinking about that kind of guitar song and how bendy it could be be. There's a guitar solo on there that's actually a vocal, but it's been produced pretty much like a guitar. We were actually putting this guitar sampler through auto-tune and letting it glitch out. We were swapping all the traditional effects that you'd normally have on guitars and vocals basically in that one.

Is pop a particular genre of music, do you think, or is it just whatever is on the pop charts?

I don't know how I feel about pop being used in a really strict genre sense. I've heard this term pop classicism used to describe, Gaga, Carly Rae Jepsen, Taylor Swift and Charli to some extent. And that does represent a sound. But there's also hip-hop dominating the charts, other things through TikTok—all kinds of genres, really. And all of those, to me still feel like pop music.

I think the thing that actually unites pop is the concise approach. Fitting things into three minutes or less, having a song structure that lends itself to being understood really easily, having hooks and different forms of hooks through sounds and noises.

I don't know if it's to do with songwriting, but it's this idea that the whole song is actually communicating one thing through the mood of the music and what the lyrics are doing and the sounds. It's understood in a really fast way. And then ideally, those things are also popular or designed to be popular or become popular.

I've been reading this wonderful book The Dialectic of Pop by Agnés Gayraud, and she talks about how Theodor Adorno just hated the idea that music should be understood quickly or easily.

Me and my friend Finn Keane, we have been very, very slowly compiling a book called How Music Ruined Music. Because throughout the ages and really stretching back to ancient music, every time there's a new development there's this whole wave of like, "Oh, this is gonna ruin music."

And you can go backwards: the mp3 is going to ruin it, apps are going to ruin it, streaming is going to ruin it, recording studios are going to ruin it, labels are going to ruin it. And then back to 12 tone is going to ruin it, orchestras are going to ruin it.

And that kind of keeps me going sometimes because, you know, it sort of tells you how much freedom there is really and how valuable music as an art form is.

One big thing that people say is going to ruin music is auto-tune.

Yeah, that's my favorite example.

It's funny, lately, I've been challenging myself and doing a few things where there's no auto-tune and I'm just trying to capture good takes. But I'm not doing in a purist sense at all. 

One of the most interesting things about auto-tune, too, is the way it could have started much earlier.

The track "Believe" by Cher, those producers were the first to crank auto-tune to zero latency, you know. But when they were interviewed they just completely lied to avoid giving the trade secret away. They were like, "Oh, we just use like a really meticulous vocoder and did this and that" and everyone was like, "Okay, fair enough."

But if they had just revealed that [they used auto-tune], you would have had this whole auto-tune wave potentially way earlier, rather than starting with the T-Pain era.

I think it's kind of amazing that the technology was actually around for a while before the style of it really blew up.

But for me, like, so many people now have had experience with apps or GarageBand having auto-tune. So for me auto-tune and that kind of computer recording is like as much of a folk instrument as anything else. I think it's pretty authentic.

I don't really see the binary between real and fake that much when it comes to auto-tune. It's a version of an instrument or a version of the voice. But it definitely didn't ruin music.

Noise Experimentalist Evicshen Talks First LP 'Hair Birth,' Crafting Xenomorph Face Masks & More

Grammys Newsletter

Subscribe Now

GRAMMYs Newsletter

Be the first to find out about winners, nominees, and more from Music's Biggest Night.
GRAMMYs

Tame Impala

Photo by Matt Sav

News
Tame Impala Checks In From Hibernation tame-impala-checks-hibernation

Tame Impala Checks In From Hibernation

Facebook Twitter Email
Kevin Parker talks to GRAMMY.com about how he’s surviving without touring and finding comfort in disappointing those looking for "Psychedelic Jesus"
Laura Studarus
GRAMMYs
Sep 2, 2020 - 8:46 am

Kevin Parker is calling from under the covers. Given 2020's stay-home ethos, bed seem like a logical place to conduct business, even though the Tame Impala frontman swears it's only because it’s morning in his time zone, and he hasn’t quite summoned up the energy to start his day. 

His comfort with isolation makes sense—he is, after all the guy who named his sophomore album Lonerism. As the uncertain year stretches on, Parker says he’s enjoyed the extra time at home and in the studio, where he writes and records each part of a song from the ground up, a talent he recently demonstrated on "The Late Show With Stephen Colbert." And while Tame Impala’s back catalogue is laced with arena-worthy rock, it’s not a stretch to call this year’s The Slow Rush a more introspective release. Fitting, given that after his tour was cut short in early March, fans were relegated to dancing along in quarantine. ("People have been telling me that's weird how the lyrics of this album ended up being kind of relevant to now," says Parker. "Which obviously, I didn't anticipate.")

Calling from his home in Perth, Australia, Parker spoke to GRAMMY.com about how he’s surviving without touring, finding comfort in disappointing those looking for Psychedelic Jesus and the unsinkable Kanye West.

What's been your favorite souvenir during all your travels?

Sukajan Man in Harajuku, in Tokyo. I've been in that place a couple of times. And each time we've been back they've recognized us and we just kind of had a chat. I think I bought a jacket off him 10 years ago. Sometimes fans give us presents, just stuff they've made. I've got a box of stuff from over the years. It's full of weird bracelets and letters. Other than that, I try to pack light, so I'm not much of a collector.

I love that you save the greatest hits of fan gifts.

That's what it really is!  Everything ends up in my suitcase, that's not drugs. Sometimes it's like a little gift box and then on the way to the airport you lift the lid and there's like 50 bags of weed. It’s like, oh, shit!

How did you make peace with not touring behind what's obviously a very summery album?

I haven't yet! I believe we'll be able to at some point. If it was just me, missing out on touring and I knew the rest of the world was doing it, and going to festivals and stuff, then I think it would be more difficult to deal with. But the fact that everyone's in the same boat, it kind of just makes me think we'll get that chance. I was touring Currents for five years. The fans are obviously waiting for new music, but it just makes me think if we get out in a year or two, then it's like it'll still be fresh, and it'll still be good. People have been telling me that's weird how the lyrics of this album ended up being kind of relevant to now, which obviously I didn't anticipate. Obviously, I can't see the future. So, it's kind of it's a wild coincidence.

Did you have sort of any indications going into that last show that things were going to be shut down?

Yeah, it was kind of building up in intensity. The day after the second L.A. show was when it really became obvious that we shouldn't play another show. The last one was like, in hindsight, oh, maybe we shouldn't. But everyone was so naive then. I like to believe that no one that was there was spreading it at that point it.

You hit upon a really great point that none of us are dealing with FOMO right now. But on a personal level, have you felt pressure to make this year meaningful or productive when you know you can't do a large portion of your job?

There's always things to do. In fact, I've been kind of the busiest that I have been in a long time. In the last few months, doing non-music stuff. The internet exists, and I've got a studio. I'm shooting videos and doing live streams, like what I did for "Stephen Colbert." And you know, and people still listen to music. So, for that reason I'm extremely blessed I'm extremely privileged that my craft. While touring is a big part of it it's not the only part of it.

It also seems like your process is so insular compared to a lot of other artists that it's not a logical leap for you.

And for that reason, I kind of lucked out there. I kind of feel like my process was built for this time. It almost feels like I've spent the last 10 years doing something that was made for global pandemics.

How does the guy that makes escapist music find his own form of escapism?

By making it. That's kind of always what I've loved so much about making music since I was really young. As soon as I was making music, nothing else mattered. It was a weird kind of combination of escaping it and facing it at the same time. You know, like singing about something that was negative was simultaneously a way of escaping it and dealing with it.

Are you able to step back and distance yourself when you hear your music in the wild?

I'm getting better at that. I think in the last few years I've just been able to shake that kind of cringe that I feel when I hear my song in public. I'll be at a bar or something with friends, or like going to a restaurant, and I'm with people and a Tame Impala song comes on, a few years ago, I would have huddled into a ball and laid under the table. While everyone's looking at me laughing. Now I'm kind of more in the opposite. I'll try and alert everyone.

Any particularly memorable moments?

I was at a wedding many years ago, and someone put Tame Impala on just kind of as a prank. And I cleaned the floor out, which was pretty funny.

When you aren't clearing out dancefloors with your music, what kind of dancer are you?

Well I need to be drunk for starters. I'm not busting moves; I'm definitely just grooving. The only way I can actually dance is if I'm one hundred percent feeling the music and not actually thinking about what I'm doing. Again, I'm getting better at not being cringy on all fronts.

GRAMMYs

Tame Impala performing at Flow Festival 2019 in Helsinki
Photo credit: Laura Studarus

You're currently working a lot on your own, but it seems like there was a period of time there when you were the featured artist. And after so many collaborations, do you still have the ability to get professionally star struck when someone reaches out to you?

I'm a sucker for getting star struck, I don't know what it is. It takes a lot of mental coaching to remember be myself, which I'm eventually able to do. But whenever I met anyone I like, I just forget. I forget the golden rule that no one's larger than life, everyone is just human, which is something that I am instantly reminded of every time I meet someone famous, like two minutes into meeting them. I'm resigned to the fact that they'll be disappointed that I'm not Psychedelic Jesus.

Who would you love to meet and/or collaborate with?

If I answer that, I might jinx it. If anyone ever saw that I'd completely geeked out, then they might be hesitant to actually ask because they'll just think I'm gonna be a fanboy. We'll put it this way—a lot of those names have started to get crossed off. Kanye West was top of my list, easily. I mean, we didn't fully get to do something properly. But I'd love to do something to Daft Punk, that'd be really cool. They're one of those ones where it's like, I don't want to mention it too much.

So, what's your stance on blowing out birthday candles? Do you keep your wishes a secret as well?

Yeah, no way, that makes it not come true. That's if you believe in wishes.

Do you?

I don't know, what's the deal with wishes? Is there a wish God that's receiving all these, then sort of administers them? Who are you talking to when you're wishing?

I feel like a wish is more something you tell yourself and then [get] yourself in the headspace to take care of whatever it is. Where a prayer is something you're addressing to a higher power.

Well in that case, tell everyone, because then it puts the most pressure on you actually do it.

I was gonna follow it up and ask you how you felt about fate, but I'm worried we might be getting into Psychedelic Jesus territory.

I don't believe in fate as much as I realize that we are all atoms bumping into each other. We're all just lots of little balls, floating around in space, bumping into each other. And so, in a way, we have no control over what we do because our actions are just defined by chemicals.

How do you feel about Kanye West's supposed to run for president?

There might be some mental health issues. And then with that in mind, like, you can't really make assumptions on anything. Kanye, he's built his life, and career on being extremely ambitious. He's ambitious to a fault, probably, but that's always been the power of Kanye West—he's not been afraid to fail. I think like he has less fear of failure than most people. Which is one of the secrets to his success. When he tries to be president, and fails, he'll start a shoe company and make a zillion dollars. It's like you win some, you lose some. And I think on Kanye it's just a brand, it's on the grand scale. And same with being a being a legendary hip-hop artist.

I love the way you frame that because finding our way out of fear of failure is something a lot of us have to do.

I think everyone can take a slice of that. Because yes, I'm afraid of it. The fear of failure, probably like everyone else, is the thing that's held me back the most. Basically, my New Year's resolution every year is to not be afraid of failure. Being fearless with following my passion—music—got me where I am today. Every time I've thrown caution to the wind and done something [that] feels [good], it's paid off... and where I haven't done something because I've been afraid of failing, I've regretted it.

What's making you the happiest right now? 

Maybe that I don't hate that the whole album cycle has ground to a halt, because I don't want this album [The Slow Rush] to be the album that reminds everyone of this time. I'm kind of happy for the album to be in hibernation. If we start touring again after coronavirus, whenever that is, we'll play shows around then. For the rest of people's lives. It's the music that reminds them of the time when coronavirus ended, then that's all I can hope for. That's all I want. And so for that reason I'm kind of okay for it to be in hibernation. [Laughs.] My record label would be screaming if they heard me saying that right now.

Capturing Los Angeles' COVID-Closed Venues

Grammys Newsletter

Subscribe Now

GRAMMYs Newsletter

Be the first to find out about winners, nominees, and more from Music's Biggest Night.
GRAMMYs

[From left]: Bartees Strange, Anjimile and Jordana Nye. Photos courtesy of Julia Leiby, Maren Celest & Grand Jury Music

News
What's It Like To Release A Debut During COVID? bartees-strange-anjimile-more-what-its-release-debut-album-pandemic

Bartees Strange, Anjimile & More On What It's Like To Release A Debut Album In A Pandemic

Facebook Twitter Email
A variety of rising artists sit down to discuss the unusual and inopportune circumstances of releasing a debut record during COVID, and what it takes to make the best of an impossible situation
Mike Hilleary
GRAMMYs
Oct 27, 2020 - 1:36 pm

Video-chatting through her phone, Wichita-based singer/songwriter Jordana Nye shows me a tattoo she recently got on her right forearm. Written in small red ink is a single word: "numb." "I feel like I've just been kind of numb throughout the whole thing—like my tattoo," she says. Laughing at herself, almost as an aside, she quickly adds, "The decisions you make when you're in quarantine."

The "whole thing" Nye is referencing is of course the increasingly fragile state of the music industry as a result of the coronavirus pandemic, a global health crisis that has in just a few short months forced the closure of concert venues across the country, the cancelation of festivals and tours, and manifested an overwhelming sense of uncertainty for the untold number of musical artists that make recording and performing songs their livelihood. While established, high-profile acts such as Bruce Springsteen, Lady Gaga, and BTS are fully capable of releasing a new album in the middle of a volatile and complicated environment and experience little to no impact on their financial bottom line and cultural cachet, those like Nye, who only just made her first steps into the industry with the release of her debut album Classical Notions of Happiness in March, are finding themselves mentally and professionally hobbled at the exact moment they are trying to introduce themselves to the greater music listening community.

In addition to Nye (who has followed Classical Notions of Happiness with the EP Something to Say and has a second EP … To You scheduled for release in December), a variety of rising artists, including Christian Lee Hutson (Beginners), Anjimile (Giver Taker), Bartees Strange's Bartees Cox Jr. (Live Forever), and Nation of Language frontman Ian Devaney (introduction, Prescence) all sat down to discuss the unusual and inopportune circumstances of releasing a debut record during COVID, and what it takes to make the best of an impossible situation.

The Initial Shock

Jordana Nye: I kind of went through like the worst depression. I mean, you just gotta keep swimming. It's hard to sometimes. But you get medicine, get therapy, talk about stuff. That's what I did, and it helped a lot. I couldn't even do anything for maybe three months straight. It was the worst.

Ian Devaney: It was kind of disbelief, especially when I realized how long it would go on and I realized what that would do to small and mid-sized venues. I was like, even when we do come back from this, the landscape is just gonna be so totally different. What does this mean as far as these businesses as independent hubs in the community? But my brain also just zoomed out to the corporate consolidation of touring above the D.I.Y. level basically. Are the only people who are going to be able to keep their venues open the ones who aren't as artist-friendly?

Bartees Cox Jr.: After we released my EP Say Goodbye to Pretty Boy, it was crazy. We got invited to play this WNYC soundcheck live show thing on March 12. And then we also had a show in New York on March 13. And this was when the shit was really going down in New York. And we were there, we played the thing, and we were all like, "Dang, this looks like it's gonna get really serious." And then after the EP came out, my team and I were like, "Well, do we just not do anything for a year and a half? We have momentum now. We should just ride this and keep writing." And that was just it, let's just follow the wave. It's working right now. So why why stop, you know?

Read More: Anjimile Opens Up On 'Giver Taker,' Sobriety, Identifying As Trans & More

The Road Is Closed

Christian Lee Hutson: Just from my perspective, the thing that seems to help debut artists the most is supporting other artists on tour, and that element has been completely taken out of the picture. Having your name tied to whatever the act is you're opening for and getting a chance to be in front of new people that might not have heard you on whatever streaming playlist, that aspect is probably the most damaging.

Ian Devaney: I've always been someone who feels like Nation of Language captures more people through the live show. And so when it became clear that we weren't going to be touring for a long time, I was like, "Oh, I guess we're doomed. I guess we'll put these things out and maybe some people listen to them, and then it will just fade away and we'll get on with the next thing and wait. But I was very shocked and flattered that the record started doing much better than I ever thought. That was very exciting. I feel very grateful for that.

Bartees Cox Jr.: I'm glad that we put Live Forever out now, instead of right at the beginning of the pandemic, because I don't think people knew what the f**k was going on in March. I saw some bands, put some records out that were really good in February and January who had huge tours booked all summer. I feel like this really hit them in the chest. That just takes so much like gas and energy out of you.

Ian Devaney: We were three shows into a tour, when they were like, "OK, everyone has to go home." It wasn't just disbelief that a dangerous thing was happening, but disbelief from the whiplash of the fact that we were about to be on the road for a month. But now, I'm back in my apartment. There was confusion and then, yeah, just real sadness of not knowing when I'm gonna get to do this again.

Christian Lee Hutson: Doing my first real headline tour, that was supposed to happen. I was supposed to on it right now, actually. In June I was also going to tour with one of my favorite bands, The Magnetic Fields. I was excited to spend a month with them. Those are two things I feel like, "Oh, man, those would have been cool." And hopefully, in a world where we're safer, those things can still happen.

Read More: Bartees Strange On 'Live Forever' & Why "It Shouldn't Be Weird To See Black Rock Bands"

Ian Devaney: I was really looking forward to playing the Seattle show on our canceled tour. KEXP seemed like the first radio station that consistently was reaching out to us and playing us on a regular basis, and we kind of developed a close relationship with them. And to me they've always been sort of one of the gatekeepers of like, "Oh, I'm in this level now. KEXP knows about my band." And so, them just being excited for us to come and us getting the sense that people just driving around in their cars during the day were hearing our music—and that being such a strange thing to wrap our heads around—it felt like we were gonna show up and be like, "We've arrived."

Jordana Nye: I was going on my first tour. I felt unprepared. I was also really nervous. And then when the COVID stuff started, there was a surreal moment where I was like, "What? I was just about to do something that could impact my life in such a big way and now it's gone." I was told there was gonna be hotels.

Christian Lee Hutson: Not touring is a huge change in my life in general. I've been touring with other people or just on my own for the last 11 years in my life. So to not do it at the one time I've finally released an album and not be doing it feels hilarious.

Bartees Cox Jr.: I keep telling myself, "It's just delayed. You will get to play the record for years. It will always exist." It won't be the same, but I also think when shows open up, people are gonna be really hyped to go to shows. The bottom line is, it'll be okay. Again, I have no choice. It's hard to like dwell on that. I knew that would be the case, before I put it out.

Fiscal Feasibility

Anjimile: I would describe it as not an ideal time, but I also have never monetized like my music career in a major way. It's not like, "Oh, no, all this money I usually make is gone!" [Laughs.]

Christian Lee Hutson: My wife and I are both living on unemployment and savings right now and just kind of hold on as long as we can, just hoping that touring can come back before we're in a crippling amount of debt.

Ian Devaney: The unemployment insurance is currently supporting me. When we left for tour the restaurant I was working at I said, "I understand if you won't have a space to me when I get back," but they were like, "We I think we'll be able to work the schedule," and I thought, "Perfect." But then the reason we came back was because everything was shutting down. And so I got an email suggesting we should all file for an appointment, and we'll see what happens.

Jordana Nye: At least I have my job back in Wichita. I work at a brewing company called Norton's. They're super involved in live music and it's a great place. I was like a barback during the summer. And now I'm a dishwasher. It's humbling.

Team Building and Content Alternatives

Bartees Cox Jr.: I just feel sometimes [as a new artist] you're the only one that knows that you have something special, and you just gotta build around it. And then all of a sudden people just show up around you. You have a team and you have a plan. But you got to make the first step.

Anjimile: It definitely changed the scope and nature of the promotional cycle. When it became apparent that touring was not happening I was like, "OK, so I guess we'll have to get creative and do other things to generate and maintain interest in this record."

Christian Lee Hutson: I think everyone was just flying by the seat of their pants, like, "We'll do the best that we can do and we're just gonna do everything that we can as we think of it." Those were really the kind of conversations that were had. The funny thing about all of this is all you can do is throw your hands up and just do it, surrender yourself to it. And I feel like everyone has a label and Phoebe and me and my management, everyone has been pretty good at just being like, "Alright, we're just gonna roll with it."

Anjimile: I'm also working on building a team. I now have a booking agent. And I'm talking with managers for the first time and that's super exciting. I'm doing all these behind the scenes team building stuff.

Ian Devaney: We've actually, in the middle of the pandemic, gotten booking agents. And they were like, "This is weird, but we an tell people about the band for when things open back up. We can get your name into circulation of who's being considered for what." You can get the sense that they are ready to just throw us intensely on the road, and we are ready to do that as well.

Bartees Cox Jr.: Will Yip, who runs memory music, was just like, "This thing is super fresh. It's good no matter what. You got to just trust us." I was the most apprehensive because no one's ever cared about my music or anything I've ever done. So I was like, "Well, OK, if this is what you think, I trust you guys." And they were all just so passionate about it and they just worked so f**king hard. My publicist Jamie and manager Tim, they just really pushed the record really, really hard. Teams are so important. I didn't know how important they were until really this year, how much how much it helps to have a label and a manager and a publicist that love you and love your record, and are going to put in extra hours and go the extra mile. That was the difference-maker. I think that's why it didn't matter what was happening around us because yes, it's an election year, yes the world was literally ending, yeah there's a pandemic. But this record is f**king good. And it's not the first time a great record has come out when things are really bad.

Anjimile: I got hit up by a U.K. booking agency first, and they were like, "Hey, obviously, there's no touring happening right now, but we love your sound and we're looking into the future to see where you would fit in certain clubs, and we just want you on the team." The same thing happened with my new U.S. booking agent. She was like, "We've been following you for a couple years, seen your name everywhere. Booking doesn't really exists, but I want to work with you and get you on the team and we can talk about slowly building what a live Anjimile thing looks like."

Ian Devaney: I think part of it is letting fans know that we're not stopping. It often helps me emotionally invest in a band if I can believe that the band is really in it to keep moving. I don't know if that makes sense. People will email us or reach out through Bandcamp and things like that. And it's always just really nice to hear people's stories of how they've enjoyed the record.

Jordana Nye: My team taught me to just try to keep working and keep busy until we get a sense of what the hell is going to happen—and just release music because it's really all you can do. Anything you can do, you just have to do it.

Anjimile: I think the main idea for me is just galvanizing and continually engaging my social media presence. My social media numbers have climbed substantially as a result of this release, which is exciting. And not to sound like a f**king music industry business guy, but content is helpful, and so I'm just trying to create chill content without losing my mind. We're about to have a contest. We've got a video coming out. Hopefully people can sit at home and watch. I want to try and create content that folks can engage with at home. Part of our merch is boxers. We were like, "What about hats?" "Well, nobody's gonna see the hat." "What about fanny packs?" "Nobody's going anywhere." "OK. Boxers. People will be at home wearing them." We're just trying to be as creative as possible.

Jordana Nye: I've got some music video stuff in the works. There's a new one coming out that was filmed in my home of Wichita for "I Guess This is Life," and my best friend is in it with me. It's very, very sweet. And I can't wait for it to be out. But I'm also shooting a music video out here in L.A. for the track "Reason." It’s going to feature me walking an invisible dog on a leash. I'm f**king excited for that. I can't wait.

Ian Devaney: Our manager has been really kind of fantastic and diligent. In his mind there's still people who don't know the record. And so just because it came out in May, doesn't mean we're not going to keep working it as though everyone knows it, because they don't.

Mental Health Whiplash

Christian Lee Hutson: It's like, for debut artists, what do you have to compare it to?

Bartees Cox Jr.: I almost feel like more people are listening to music now than they were before, like really listening through albums, and really interacting with them.

Christian Lee Hutson: I think it would make me crazy to sit around and just be like, "Damn it, I spent all this time on this and of course when my record comes out, this is what happens." I mean, I'm actually kind of encouraged by the response to the album just in general, because I feel like it's such a weird time for music to come out and I'm happy that anyone has found it at all considering it's come out in the most turbulent year in recent memory. That aspect I feel positive about, like it was weirdly worth it, even though I'm not doing all of the things that I thought I would be doing a year ago.

Bartees Cox Jr.: I mean I've never had fans like I do now, and I'm doing all this during a pandemic.

Ian Devaney: In a strange way, I'm glad we're putting music out now. I feel like we are, as much as anyone can, engaging with the madness and sort of being defiant in the face of the madness and not giving up on trying to be creative and trying to dream big about what we can do in the future.

Anjimile: It feels surreal, but at the same time I've released music locally in Boston over the years. And nothing has ever come of that. And so releasing an album nationally with a label, I think my expectations were actually pretty low. Usually when I put out music nobody cares, you know? Why should they really care? And this time some people cared, and I was like, "Holy f**k." Even that that was beyond my expectations. And so I don't know, I'm just kind of trying to go with it. Because even though things feel weird, and at times, unfair and strange I don't know what is going to happen in the next three months, six months, nine months, right? I'm just cautiously cautiously optimistic about what will happen next. Because I do think that so far, things have actually happened right on time. Even though shit is really weird right now, and I don't know what's going to happen next, maybe something positive in my career will occur. Who knows?

Bartees Cox Jr.: I was talking to a friend about this. You look at these areas in music, or in America, like Vietnam War era music or these other big social phenomenon and the music that came from it, I think that one day people will look back on this quarantine pandemic era and think, "All these records came out during this weird ass time are interesting because of it."

What Comes Next

Bartees Cox Jr.: I was thinking that bigger artists that need bigger studios are gonna kind of be hamstrung by this where more D.I.Y. people can just be like, "Yeah, I'll write another record."

Jordana Nye: Going on tour, getting experienced would have helped my career a lot in way. But working on new music is also helping it.

Ian Devaney: For Nation of Language, we're planning on putting out a seven inch either like, December or January. So we've been working on two songs, as well as songs for the second record.

Anjimile: At this point, in the year, I have a lot of songs written, some which I think might be good. And so I'm just stacking up demos at the moment, trying to make sure I have like the juiciest tunes available.

Jordana Nye: I'm still just making music and content, and it kind of tells me that I can pretty much do anything that I set my mind to, which is comforting, especially in dire times when I feel like I'm not doing anything at all, and I feel like I'm a loser. People are digging the new stuff so I'm super excited for that, and makes me want to do more with different genres and just play around with them.

Bartees Cox Jr.: I'm gonna really take my time. I put out two records this year. I don't feel like I gotta like, hustle. I just gonna just keep working try to make some money and hold it down.

Christian Lee Hutson: I'm honestly just writing a lot and I am recording a lot of stuff at home. Early on in quarantine, I was just like, "Alright, in order to tell the days apart, I'm gonna record a different cover song for fun every day." So I did that for a while until I got bored of that. And now I'm just demoing and recording new stuff. It's the only thing I really know how to do. And I'm grateful that there's a lot of time to do it. Something I noticed observing other friends' album cycles in the pre-COVID world is the amount of time that they had to actually write and follow up their debuts is actually pretty slim, which I feel like I have a lot of time to accomplish that.

Capturing Los Angeles' COVID-Closed Venues

GRAMMYs

Slow Pulp

Photo by Alec Basse

News
Slow Pulp Find Serenity slow-pulp-find-serenity

Slow Pulp Find Serenity

Facebook Twitter Email
The Madison-born, Chicago-based shoegazey quartet open up about the trying events that led up to recording their tranquil debut album, 'Moveys'
Danielle Chelosky
GRAMMYs
Oct 7, 2020 - 11:31 am

Slow Pulp aren’t sure how to sonically categorize themselves, so they jokingly offer: "cow rock," "slowcore" and "not emo, but emotional." They’ve been labeled as shoegaze before, but they think the reason for that is: "We’ve put out such a little amount of music that people don’t know what to call it yet."

The group is based in Chicago, but the four of them are from Wisconsin. Three of the members—Alexander Leeds (bass), Theodore Mathews (drums) and Henry Stoehr (guitar)—have been playing together since sixth grade, and Emily Massey (vocals/guitar) joined in 2017. Moveys is their debut album, arriving via Winspear on Oct. 9.

Moveys follows a crazy series of events involving a depressive episode, a diagnosis and a car crash, but the record glows with an aura of serenity and weightlessness. It’s different from their past material; it’s more focused and cohesive. It’s naturally packed with inside jokes, eccentric sound effects, infectious indie rock riffs and sprawling folk ballads. Read our chat with the band about the making of Moveys.

While all of you were working on this album, Emily, you got diagnosed with Lyme Disease and Chronic Mono and then your parents were involved in a crash. Could you take me through this timeline?

Massey: Where do we begin?! Last year we all lived together and we were touring a lot and trying to write music. I was experiencing a lot of fatigue. I was sleeping most days and feeling really depressed and confused about my health. My motivation level was really low and my [self-esteem] was really low. I was in a big time period of questioning whether or not I was capable of being in a band and writing. When we started writing a lot of the songs on this record, I started feeling a little bit better in terms of my mental health and desire to get better. I went to the doctor in the fall of 2019 right before we were going on some other tours. I got my diagnosis. It was really validating in a lot of ways because it was another piece of my health that was causing my fatigue and my anxiety and getting sick a lot. That’s kind of when we really started writing the record—after that diagnosis.

I started getting a lot of tools to take care of myself and then my parents got into a car accident on March 1 of 2020. My mom broke her neck and my dad fractured his neck, so they both had pretty serious injuries and were in the hospital for a while. I came back to Madison, Wisconsin, to take care of them. Then, a couple weeks later, COVID hit. I remember I came back to visit Chicago for a day and that’s when it really dawned on me how serious it was. I asked the boys—Henry, Teddy and Alex—if they wanted to hang out and they were all like, Um… I don’t think we should do that. That’s a bad idea because of coronavirus. And I was like, Oh, yeah, that’s a real thing. The next day my mom was in the rehab hospital terminal and I couldn’t even see her for three weeks because they wouldn’t let anybody in. That was really crazy and I ended up getting stuck in Madison partly because of COVID and my parents needed a full-time care taker. There was no one else to do it, except for me and my sister. Because of coronavirus, we couldn’t have family friends coming over or anything like that. It was a really strange time to be dealing with all of these things in what felt like an isolated and lonely way. There’s just a lot going on—drama with family friends. It was a very difficult time. We finished a lot of the record during that time [laughs]. It was kind of a whirlwind.

But my dad is a musician and he engineered my vocals on the album. In a way, working on the record was a nice reprieve from being a care taker and dealing with grief. Weird juxtaposition finishing a record and writing about being emotional and sad and dealing with a lot of difficult things but also using it as a thing to help me through it.

Was it nostalgic to be back in Madison, Wisconsin?

Massey: It was a nice time to be there, I think. I hadn’t been there in a while, and I think after this time I have a new appreciation for it—for the city. I grew up there and before I moved to Chicago I lived there my whole life. My parents actually are moving away from there this fall, so it was my last time being in Madison as a home base. My mom put it in an interesting way—since my sister and I moved out of the house, it’s was the last time that we would really spend time as a family like this, unless the pandemic gets worse and everything fails and I don’t have any money and I have to go back [laughs]. Which is highly likely, but it is an interesting time to reflect. I’ve been in Madison during tough times and I’ve found it to be a very healing place. There’s a lot of lakes and it’s really beautiful to walk around. That helped me a lot.

How does mental health tie into the record?

Massey: When we started writing this record, I was at a low point within my own mental health. I was having a really difficult time explaining it or communicating about it especially to my bandmates. I was—for a while—unable to write. I was really self-conscious about writing and was very self-deprecating all of the time. That’s difficult when you’re a musician because you have to believe in what you’re making, and I wasn’t in a space to do that.

Mental health isn’t something where you wake up and you’re like, "I’m better and good!" It’s something that comes and goes, at least from my own experience. Throughout this record, I was learning a lot about myself, about my body with my diagnosis, about myself as an artist, about myself as a human who was growing. It was at the forefront of my mind, and lyrically it came out. For me, it was a way to understand it. I was having trouble understanding how it manifested in myself. It’s a weird position to be in when you’re a performing or touring musician and you feel so against yourself. I felt like I hated myself and was being [disingenuous] to people watching me, like I was pretending and putting on a facade of being confident and like I knew what I was doing. I needed to step back, and I’m still figuring it out. I don’t have the answers at all. I feel lucky to have gotten out of the place that I was in, but the pandemic and all of the other stuff doesn’t make it easy to continue on the right track [laughs]. It’s a process of figuring out how to care for yourself in the best way. I think this record helped me do that, or at least move forward in doing that.

The press release says the title Moveys is an inside joke. What’s it about?

Massey: [Laughs.] It’s kind of funny that they called it an inside joke. Henry had written the last song on the record, "Movey," and I thought it was funny. I liked the word a lot. A lot of the songs also started with names that were related to movie titles. Like, "Whispers (In The Outfield)"—Henry, correct me if I’m wrong—but that’s related to Field of Dreams.

Stoehr: It was actually Rookie of the Year. [Laughs.]

Massey: And we had another song that started out with the title "Evan Almighty." Just random things. For "Track," at one point, we had talked about The Wild Thornberrys Movie as an inspiration. And the way that we communicate about music is very visual. Sometimes Henry will try to be talking about a song and he’ll set up an entire scene to describe it rather than I want it to sound like this. So, I think in that way it’s an interesting tie-in to the title. I also have a history with dance; I used to be a ballet dancer, and I’m a ballet teacher outside of being a musician. That plays into it. We’re just connected to the word in many ways. Movement in terms of health and mental health. I think Alex said something earlier about motion and movement within yourself and your growth being transient and that changing.

There’s a bunch of weird noises and bits throughout the record. Where did these come from?

Stoehr: The sound in "Idaho" is from Teddy and I recording at the same time. I had done this delay effect with guitar pedals, and it was just in the scratch take and I left it in there. For most of the other sounds, we branched out and did some different textures and song environments. I found this keyboard in an alley when we started recording it and it has a lot of cool sounds on it.

Where did the piano instrumental on "Whispers (In The Outfield)" come from?

Stoehr: I had just been playing more piano in between working on the other songs and recording. I had this chord progression going and I’d been fine-tuning it over the course of writing and recording the album. It was one of the last ones that we figured out. I was thinking about this one song that I recently found from this baseball movie used to watch when I was a kid, and I didn’t realize I was thinking about it necessarily at the time. I think I was trying to capture this big baseball energy but in a nice piano song. [Laughs.] I couldn’t play it exactly how I was imagining it, because I don’t play all that much piano. And Emily’s dad is a professional piano player so I sent him a video of me just playing the chords and then we talked and he sent back a couple versions of him playing it. He shredded it.

Massey: He knocked it out of the ballpark.

Shamir Talks New Self-Titled Album, DMing With Mandy Moore & Being The Change He Wants To See

Grammys Newsletter

Subscribe Now

GRAMMYs Newsletter

Be the first to find out about winners, nominees, and more from Music's Biggest Night.
Top
Logo
  • Recording Academy
    • About
    • DEI
    • Governance
    • Press Room
    • Jobs
  • GRAMMYs
    • Awards
    • News
    • Videos
    • Events
    • Store
  • Latin GRAMMYs
    • Awards
    • News
    • Photos
    • Videos
    • Cultural Foundation
    • Members
    • Press
  • GRAMMY Museum
    • COLLECTION:live
    • Museum Tickets
    • Exhibits
    • Education
    • Support
    • Programs
    • Donate
  • MusiCares
    • About
    • Get Help
    • Support
    • News
    • Events
  • Advocacy
    • About
    • News
    • Issues & Policy
    • Act
  • Membership
    • Chapters
    • Producers & Engineers Wing
    • Songwriters & Composers Wing
    • GRAMMY U
    • Events
    • Join
Logo

© 2022 - Recording Academy. All rights reserved.

  • Terms of Service
  • Privacy Policy
  • Cookie Policy
  • Copyright Notice
  • Contact Us

Some of the content on this site expresses viewpoints and opinions that are not those of the Recording Academy and its Affiliates. Responsibility for the accuracy of information provided in stories not written by or specifically prepared for the Academy and its Affiliates lies with the story's original source or writer. Content on this site does not reflect an endorsement or recommendation of any artist or music by the Recording Academy and its Affiliates.