Heartache and a Whole New Mess from Angel Olsen

If last year’s All Mirrors—a synth-laced record that documented the same breakup in soaring, orchestral splendor—was a career climax for Olsen, Whole New Mess is something of a come-to-Jesus moment. “When it all started and nobody cared about my music, making something was so simple and pure,” she tells me, “I needed to return to that, because I realized I had basically become a business. People were depending on me for their livelihood.” 

Whole New Mess, Olsen’s first solo album since her 2012 debut, features nine of the eleven songs that first appeared on All Mirrors, though you’d never recognize them. Olsen relocated to a crumbling church near the Canadian border to reconnect with herself and rework the album, swapping full-throttle vocals and a 14-piece band for ghostly reverb and a solitary guitar. “I needed to let those feelings haunt a space that wasn’t my house,” she says, “and to only be responsible for my own wellbeing.” 

Now that Whole New Mess is out in the world, Olsen finally has time to focus on new projects—from writing comedy to trying her hand at sound design for film. To celebrate the release, we sat down with Olsen to discuss everything from the recording process to the best technique for running intrepid tourists out of quiet North Carolina towns. 

Tell me how you spent your morning.

I'm sitting in my plant room between my bookshelf and my potted jade. It’s like a greenhouse in here. Last night I had to sign a bunch of records for a promotional thing, so I invited my friend over to sit with me and listen to Gary Numan while I did that.

Now that the album is finished, have you been taking a break? 

I have not had a break in a long time. I try to leave my house for an hour a day just because I get so tired of being in my house working all day. There’s a lot of promo to do for this album, and when I’m home all the time I just get sucked into task after task. But in September, I’m finally gonna just chill the fuck out.

What does that look like for you?

Well I’m so focused on other projects now that it’s really hard to focus on Whole New Mess. It’s often the case that by the time the record comes out you’re already into something else. I’ve written six or seven new songs recently, but I’m not really sure what direction they’re headed in yet. Other than that, I’ve been trying to work on totally new projects with friends. I’m working with one friend on a comedy show featuring New Age music and historical anecdotes. 

Wow.

[Laughs] I know. Niche. Other than that, I’ve been working on sound design for an upcoming film. So I’m excited to make my side projects my main projects for a while. Another one of my hobbies is that I’m trying to find a way to get rid of these damned tourists. When the reopening comes I want to be prepared. My best plan so far is to import truckloads of durian to leave out in the streets. That is one stinky fruit. 

What inspired you to move to Asheville?

I was chasing someone. He owned—well, owns—a record store here. It was very High Fidelity. I really did chase him though, I don’t think he wanted to be with me. I was like “Oh, but you do. I’ll change your life!” [Laughs] But I loved the town, so I stayed. I was like, “You’re not gonna get rid of me! You’re going to bump into me at the grocery store. I fucking love this place.” 

Let’s discuss Whole New Mess—

Oh, so you don’t want to talk about my relationship in endless detail?

I’d actually love to talk about a different relationship of yours, the one that inspired All Mirrors and Whole New Mess. Both of these albums are about heartache. How did you cope with it?

Well, I looked around and saw who my actual friends were. That was the hardest part of losing someone whom I built a life with—realizing how many people I thought I was close to who I actually wasn’t. I guess it really needed to happen, because it shook my whole value system up.  I learned to focus on friends who actually listened, were curious and not so self-involved. If you’re a friend caught between two people going through a breakup, there’s a way to be supportive to both parties. It shouldn’t have to be a battle. 

What do you think you learned?

Well, I just had another relationship end, which sucked, so that’s why I have so much to say about this right now. I went through the whole journey of asking myself, “were any of the things he said even true? Did I make it all up?” But I know that, from my side, all that I said and felt was real. When I think about heartache and everything that goes along with it, the most important thing I realized is that my identity doesn't need to be rooted in whether or not that person and I work out.

You just have to wait for it to pass.

You do. And I’m so fucking grateful for that process. Because this most recent time, I was like “Okay, I know the drill now. I need to not make this day about my tragedy. I must get out of the house and see my friends, and hear about what’s going on with them.”

How does Whole New Mess relate to All Mirrors for you?

I wanted All Mirrors to show people where I was heading, and what I can do when I work with people. It was always the plan to do a solo version of those songs that felt like Strange Cacti [Olsen’s 2010 EP] with distant, dreamy reverb. I wanted Whole New Mess to feel like my roots, where I started. I also wanted to explore how the context of my words changes when the music alters the meaning somehow.

Whole New Mess also came from processing a lot of what I’d realized about this industry. I thought I was just making music, but after I released Phases [2017] I realized that I also became a business. I had to learn the difference between generosity and exploitation. These industry interactions are all so complicated. Sometimes I just want to throw up my hands and say, “Just take all the money. I don’t care, I just want to write a good song.” But I can’t do that, because I employ people. It all feels very corrupt, but it’s a classic tale. So, I’m trying to be more frank about what the value system is for art today. I’ve learned a lot of this the hard way.

Is that part of the reason this album is so spare?

Absolutely. I really needed that experience of working alone and not feeling responsible for anyone's livelihood or happiness. There’s so much freedom in that. 

That seems like a real weight off.

As someone who focuses so much on how other people are doing, I often forget about myself. People who are working with me and seeing an audience praising my work every day don't always realize that I may need friendship more than a crowd sometimes. People assume that an artist who has a strong following has all the attention they need.

Tell me a bit about where you recorded this album.

No, I just want to talk about my problems! [Laughs]

I had my eye on Phil Elverum’s studio in Washington state. After the breakup, I needed to get out of Asheville. I wanted to find someplace far away so that I could release all those feelings.

You say you want this album to reflect where you started. Are you trying to remind your listeners—

I’m trying to remind myself. I’m glad that there’s a real community around my music, and I’m learning to make it less about me. I mean, I don’t walk around saying “I’m Angel Olsen buying tampons,” or anything. I’m not carrying that awareness of my audience with me everyday. 

Is there a song on this album that’s particularly special to you?

“Lark” was four different songs that I stitched together. I’ve never written anything like it, so I wasn’t sure it would work. When I perform it live, I break it into different musical parts vocally to express the different facets of this memory. I think of it as an example of how I’ve entered so many relationships without realizing that I’m getting involved with someone broken. All the trauma and verbal abuse that I’ve dealt with in some of my relationships are right there in that song.

There's a line in “Lark”—“I was there and I held him, I was there and he put it all on me.” That line still breaks my heart. I was holding this person who was crying right after he yelled at me. But that song ends in a realization: that it’s not my burden, that it’s not my shit to deal with. I’m so proud of articulating that feeling.

I’m glad you feel like that’s all behind you.

Thanks. At this point, I’m just trying to have a fuckin’ sense of humor man. About my karmic situation.

Are you a believer in dating apps?

No. Should I sign up for tinder right now though?