How did you get your start in music? Did you have a musical upbringing?
I did not. But I did have access to a lot of music on vinyl because of my father. So it was the first time I've seen a gramophone. I thought that vinyls were like magic, you know, like how did the music come out? It was so interesting to me. And having to practice piano at school really, really helps. There's not a lot of access to classical instruments, I wasn't given the opportunity to learn the violin or like the cello, but my parents put me through piano. I did a few grades and then I stopped doing it because I hated how it was. I was too — I guess too punk to sit there and listen. I was like I’m not gonna do the fucking cannon in D, I’m gonna do a crazy Arabesque.
In my experience with classical training, it's been rather traumatizing. I think there's a lot of heaviness to do with a classical music upbringing, and I think a lot of my peers can agree with this. It’s very stifling, it's very perfectionist, it's very mean, it's very competitive, I don't know there's a lot of things to do with it. It's not creative at all to me, but I feel like having the classical knowledge as a baseline is really important. You can use elements of what you learn to feed into what you make. That's what I've done with my work. With piano, it was really helpful to know chord structures and basic songs I've learned in the past and integrating those songs into my songwriting.
Definitely conflicting in the way I wrote music though because I imagine it as a whole, I don't like to conform to certain styles of composition. I like to have it very free. And that was what softscars was, I was trying to create something that was pulling often from references of relatively older music, but also I don't want to make it sound structurally similar. I wanted to give the electronica aspect of what I know as a new pop and electronic artist. In “glitch princess" I was experimenting a lot with that and how it intersects with classical emo music and alternative music.
I think that that kind of nostalgia that you bring into your music is really comforting for a lot of your listeners. How do you feel like you have tapped into this kind inner-child that you bring out in your music?
When I'm writing the songs, I tend to draw a lot from entries that are very painful to me or pivotal for me. I find that in writing it, I'm finding out a lot more about the way I'm dealing with things or coping with things too. So “sulky baby” was definitely an obvious thing to do.
I understand that it's therapeutic to write about it in this way. Usually, songs are like written about someone or written about a person or a lover you know, but for me, it's like most of the songs that refer to someone else sometimes feel like I'm referring to myself, or I'll have a conversation with myself. “sulky baby” was a conversation with myself. And the regrets I have about my youth and the fragility that was imbued on me, past my youth. Because of that, being stripped of innocence and being stripped of affection. I think in another interpretation, it could also be about a lover, who is who you see like a child, or you get treated like a child by a lover. There's so many ways you could exchange but for me it was about confronting my childhood.
There are many songs in there too, that have a lot of imagery regarding rotting and flowers and I love this idea of vast greenery because I've been so cyber and online most of my life that I think in the past three, four years I've been exposing myself a lot more to nature. I think nature is really important to my visuals, because I keep seeing a lot of beauty in the death of something beautiful. I think when flowers rot or when things rot, people want to throw it away and want to discard it. Things are disintegrating and the smell of decomposition is something quite dark that I find quite beautiful because that is a cycle, and that’s the end of the cycle of life.
I feel that's why I wrote about daisies and that's why I have a lot of like imagery of gardens. I always feel like my mind is a garden that I tend to. Most of the time there's a space in the middle, like the core of the garden of my mind, which is so beautifully tended to, and everything else around it is rotting. I've been seeing this visual for so long for a lot of the music I was writing about. I think many of the scars I refer to also very much have to do with healing over something that was so drastically, drastically wounding.
How do you balance having enough alone time to sit and reflect with yourself to make music, and know when it's time to stop and get out again?
I don't. I don’t know — I’m just so punky I just do whatever the fuck I want.
I really don't have a rule set like oh, I have to go outside, or I socialize too much. I usually can tell by how much energy is drained from me. Honestly, I'm generally very, and have always been, isolated my whole life. I feel like now I've changed. I’ve always found myself being so isolated, where I bring myself into a spiral and into a hole that is so dark and so deep that I can barely pull myself out. I've been in that so many times that I just chose to make sure I don't get to that point again.
I've learned a lot more about the person I am. I need to surround myself with people who love me. I need to be around people who are good for me. I need to show a bit of tend and care to what was broken in here. I think a lot of that has to do with being able to deal with a lot of trauma that I've been repressing, and I think softscars was also like trauma processing for me. There were a lot of memories forgotten or like things that I didn't want to face or revelations of self that I never thought I would feel.
I just try not to get so low to that point of total darkness because at that point, you can't even write music, or do anything creative. My teenage years were very much like that. And I think maybe that's also why I revisited the music I was listening to at the time — it's like how smells remind you of things, music reminds me of things too.