The part of me that loves concept albums, rock operas and showtunes finds a place through metaphor in songs like "Winter is Coming", "Little Bell" and "Raindrop", while also documenting real life events like the fight to legalize equal marriage in "Beautiful Day" or mourning my loved ones in "F". This album balances the conceptual with the experienced. I am thrilled to deliver an album that is as eclectic as myself, with songs ranging from folk, to punk, to jazz, with the lightness of comedy and the most authentic of my tragedy. Larry gave the album an incredible direction, emphasizing the natural thematic through-line and the heart of the songs. My partner, musician Kyle McCormick, features on the album with guitar, keys, and more, with Larry playing bass, guitar, and keys. I am playing mandolin and singing like you would find me at a local cafe or punk club, with the songs the way I wrote them. Producer Larry Crane worked closely with me to ensure that this album represented myself, at that moment, as a solo artist. It's this era, lovingly wrapped up in a messy twine, for you to discover, while I continue to grow as an artist and person.
It's a snapshot of being a girl unable to sleep because they feel buried alive, taken out of moments due to worry over their father's health, the ecstasy of being in love, the distant loneliness of being on tour and playing shows in warehouses, and the promise of possibility that keeps us all persisting, despite the risk of more heartbreak. This album captures this time from adolescence to adulthood, the rise and fall of hope and fear and grief. That winter, I began recording with producer Larry Crane. I decided, as soon as possible, to record my solo album. My dad was fundamentally a reason why I wrote songs in the first place, why I sang them, and why I believe I have songs and stories to tell. I was living in Portland, he was living in LA. Songs about my grandma, my family, my partner, my friends and fear and life, and then my greatest nightmare occurred–– my dad passed away without warning. A short time after, I had moved to Portland, OR to study and pursue comedy and music.īy the summer of 2014, I'd accumulated a great deal of songs and gigs. Soon I incorporated the mandolin into my band's act, and began performing solo shows. I had never played before, but started learning Neutral Milk Hotel songs and songwriting with the few chords that I knew, to deal with my grief. We found a magical old mandolin in a beat up tweed case, which I named Mando Calrissian. When my grandma, NYC detective Marie Cirile Spagnuolo (also known in the papers as "Lady Tiger"), passed away in 2011, I was singing in my band, and drove cross country to help clear out her house. He likes babies and puppies and breathingĪ great deal of my life has centered around loss, or fear of loss. You’re not, you’re not, you’re not listeningĪnd when I see my nerd boy ‘round the block, I’m all alone and without you I can’t see
I can barely hear you from the other room If you need me if you’re calling for help We gutted the old girl and sucked the marrowĪnd space stations are now a waste of space And you’re not going to finish this class