Pretty Sick Finds Their Sweet Spot

September 04, 2024

The thumping bassline of Pretty Sick buzzes through any room like the inside of a pissed-off beehive. Is it punk? Grunge? Indie? Does it even matter? Initially finding her footing in the downtown music scene of 2017, Sabrina Fuentes, the band’s frontwoman and bassist, is now transitioning away from her New York roots, defined by projects like 2020’s Deep Divine and 2022's Makes Me Sick Makes Me Smile. In Streetwise, her latest EP, she rises above her usual grungy blur, floating into a more minimalist, ethereal space with the help of Swedish producer Woesum.

While her storied life in New York informed earlier projects, Streetwise presents a Sab who, after spending time in London, has learned how cities reflect the people who live in them. Between sessions with bandmates Ava Kaufman (drums) and Ben Arauz (guitar), she called up fellow New Yorker Porches to talk Streetwise, genre-surfing, and hitting the post-release creative sweet spot.

Introduction Josh Kohno
Interview Porches
Talent Sabrina Fuentes
Photography by Sam Nixon
Styling Sunzhique
Hair Blake Eric
Makeup Laramie
Set Designer Bailey Rose Brown
Styling Assistants Coco Paul-Henriot, Erik Brambila Zavalza, Sophia Faye Yanez
Photo Assistants Tugcan Temizkan, Eston Baumer

denim bra PRADA, bracelet SANTANGELO, earrings SANTANGELO, skirt FEY FEY WORLDWIDE, shoes INVASIVE MODIFICATION

Porches— What’s up Sab?

Sabrina Fuentes— Hi, how you doing?

I'm good. You're in London right now?

Yeah, I'm in London right now. I'm at a recording studio with my friend Jacob Budge doing a session and hanging out, and I'm going to go out to carnival parties tonight. What are you doing?

That sounds banging. I'm just home doing this call with you and then I'm going to go to the studio and work on some stuff today. How long have you been in London?

Been in London for about a week now, but I was in Berlin right before. I was staying with my friend, I'd never been there.

left: dress GAUNTLETT CHENG, right: jacket, belts, skirt, loafers PRADA, socks STYLIST’S OWN

That's cool. I was thinking about the last time I saw you, you came by the studio and you had just been in Mikey’s studio and wrote 50 songs or something like that, right?

Yeah, I was at Mikey’s and wrote like 35 songs.

And then we made some songs. How many songs do you have now?

Yeah, I have no idea how many songs I have at this point. Not all that I've ever done. There's a lot of sketches that aren't quite finished, but definitely more than 35 at this point. I think probably closer to 40-50.

Are you working on anything specific, like the next record or just making a bunch of stuff right now?

Yeah, I'm working on the next record and also just collaborating with friends, seeing where everything takes us. I'm letting it figure itself out. We're just trying every creative avenue that we want to explore more, did some heavier rock stuff, some emo stuff, some indie stuff, some electronic stuff. We're trying to figure out what works for the next full length album, exploring all the ideas that we’ve been sitting on for a while.

top GAUNTLETT CHENG, underwear PRADA, bracelet SANTANGELO

I've been listening to the last EP a bunch, even more just before our chat and it's super sick. I like it more each time. It's kind of hard for artists to shift genres sometimes because it can sometimes feel like putting on a tacky outfit. There's this really strong throughline in your lyrics and in your voice that sort of stands up to a drastically different production style from the other Pretty Sick sick stuff. It got me excited to hear what you've been working on.

I feel like when you complete something, it's the most exciting time to work on new stuff because you're not stuck in one world and you can just throw a bunch of shit at the wall and just wait until something starts to feel right.

Yeah, that's exactly where we're at right now. It's nice that after releasing something, you feel like you can let that idea go and move on to exploring new things. I feel like I can put down the world that the last EP was inhabiting and see what else we can do, like you said, throwing stuff on the wall and seeing what sticks.

Did you work on music with Woesum in person or was it all virtual?

It was all in person.

In New York or somewhere else?

Here in London in a small studio with a bunch of synths and a booth where we could play any instruments we wanted to track in. We figured that we would start with the strongest ones and put that foot forward and then see what else we wanted to explore. We made those songs as soon as I finished Make Me Sick Makes Me Smile.

We were going in and out of the studio every couple of months, and it was a lot of fun since we got along really well. We did some sessions where we were bouncing off the walls full of ideas, writing four or five songs a day. It's a way of writing that I never really got to explore that much before. I would write with a band, coming up with ideas with other musicians in the room or, more often than not, write the whole thing on bass with lyrics, melody, some vague guitar and drum parts then bring it to the band to record.

It was cool working with a producer who mostly worked with rappers who show up with nothing prepared and just play off of the beats that he makes. I feel like his production style inspires so much verbally and melodically and it's such a cool way to explore songwriting. It was more fun to write songs and also a faster way for me to write songs than anything I’ve tried before. Arthur's a really sweet and nurturing producer as well, which is always great.

left: jacket ALEJANDRA ALONSO ROJAS, leather pants VINTAGE GAP, necklace SANTANGELO, watch ring SANTANGELO, sunglasses AKONI GROUP, right: Shirt PRADA, denim corset PRADA, leather belt SANTANGELO, shoes PRADA, leather skirt PRADA, sunglasses MIU MIU, leather bag IL BISONTE

Do you feel like that’s why you're doing more sessions with producers now and what not? Did it unlock some kind of collaboration thing in you?

Yeah, definitely. I mean, we've been doing sessions a couple different ways, meeting with a bunch of different producers. I think some producers really bring a lot to the table and others just bring more of you out of you. Then there's shady producers that wait for you to come up with ideas and then try to take credit for them. Up until meeting Arthur, when I would write in the room with people, that's what would end up happening more often than not and I would leave frustrated because I just did all this work not feeling like it brought out anything that I couldn't have just done on my own computer.

Working with different producers has been about seeing if there’s anybody we really click with. We’ve been doing a few sessions of the band as the band — me, Ben and Ava with no production. Now I think we’re going back to some old friends we've worked with before.

We had the guys from Nation come by and we invited Cat Power to sing on something too, bringing in people who might add a different vibe in the studio. I’ve also been in sessions with producers like Jacob, who I’m with today, that are just one-on-one. I’m also figuring out which songs from all these different sessions fit in one semi-unified world.

left: top GAUNTLETT CHENG, underwear PRADA, bracelet SANTANGELO, right: dress MEG BECK STUDIO, tights STYLIST’S OWN

Yeah, I feel like the one thing about making music with a bunch of different people and in different scenarios is that it does take a long time for the general vibe to make itself known. At first, it doesn't sound like you're setting out to achieve this thing you're imagining and then you get there. I saw you at Nublu when you played solo. What do you like about playing solo versus playing with a band?

Well it wasn’t properly solo because Ben was playing bass, but it’s definitely a new experience. I've never really played without a band before. I never even do solo acoustic shit because I don't play guitar, I play bass. I do like not having to play bass on stage, I think it’s fucking annoying and I'd rather just sing so that was really exciting and fun for me. It’s like karaoke and I can put a lot more towards performing and singing. But yeah, that was the second time we'd ever done something like that and afterwards, we missed Ava immediately. After we played we told her she needed to figure out how to play some electronic drum pages so that we could have her on stage. It’s a lot more fun when it’s all of us.

Although, it’s nice to have the option to play a full set with just backing tracks and a bass. It gives us more opportunity to play in venues that are not compatible with full bands all the time. You know what I mean? Small spaces definitely. The first time we played the set was at a show at the restaurant underneath Search and Destroy, Kenka, and it was awesome; really, really chill. It makes it so much easier to do fun, intimate gigs like that when you don't have to bring in a whole drum kit and a whole bunch of amps and a crazy system. There's a lot of freedom as to where and when we can play, on the drop of a dime.

I know the live drums not being there is sort of tragic sometimes. It sounded sick and it definitely is kind of miraculous to not have to have a guitar on your shoulder and worry about playing the right parts. I remember how I felt the first time I did it, super awkward like I was at a high school dance or something. I didn't know what to do with my body or my arms or whatever. And then I feel like slowly I started to really enjoy it more than being strapped to a guitar these days.

Every once in a while there's a song that always feels good to play on your instrument while singing it, but for the most part I would rather have more space with my body and voice to give the best performance. I think that I can definitely sing better when I don't have a big heavy instrument pushing on my diaphragm. I can project and strain a lot less. I do a lot of karaoke in my free time, so I'm very comfortable with just the microphone.

dress MEG BECK STUDIO, tights STYLIST’S OWN

You looked like a natural there for sure. Do you have any shows coming up on the books right now or are you just grinding in the studio?

Not so many shows right now, just trying to write as much as possible, taking a breather as well, just because it's been a long year. I just moved back to New York after living in London for five years, so relocating was a lot. Dealing with personal, emotional stuff and then just having released the EP, I think it's just a well-deserved break for me. Sessions like these are relaxing and I love going on tour, but it's physically draining for obvious reasons and I think for now I'm just slowing my pace a little bit. I'm from New York, where you're always trying to get things done as fast as possible, and I don't feel like doing that anymore. I want the next release to be fully thought out and complete. Not that everything else we’ve put out hasn't been. I’m not usually a perfectionist — I normally leave space for human error in projects in that way — but now I want to take my time and revisit the work until it’s exactly what I want.

What’s the song you’re writing right now?

I’m working on two. The first one is just kind of a snarky and fun song. “I know what boys like” type of thing. It’s about balling out and how it must suck to watch me ball out all the time if you're not in my life anymore. Then this next one is probably going to be a bit rockier and grunge because that seems like the direction we're headed in. So some more melancholic lyrics on that one probably, but it's going pretty good.

That's sick. It seems like you. I’m excited to hear it all. It was fun hearing, seeing you write lyrics and work. Whenever you're back, we should hit it again.

Yeah, absolutely.

Cool, cool. Does that feel like a conversation to you?

That felt conversational to me.

Music

Marika Hackman Finds a Breakthrough

June 05, 2024

Ever since she burst into London’s indie music scene with an EP of covers in 2012, Hampshire native Marika Hackman has enchanted listeners with her signature gritty sound and winning display of vulnerability. Three years later, in 2015, the singer-songwriter followed her impressive start with a debut album, We Slept At Last, cementing her status among the leading artists of her generation and eliciting comparisons to the likes of PJ Harvey, Blur, and Nico.

Her second full-length studio album, 2017’s I’m Not Your Man, navigated themes of female relationships and sexuality against the backdrop of dark dream pop and grunge guitar tones (it was also funny: on the track “Boyfriend,” Hackmann sings of stealing another man’s girlfriend just because he believes "a woman really needs a man to make her scream”). 2019’s Any Human Friend continued this trend, embracing queerness and sex with the help of messy instrumentals and increasingly bold lyrics.

Hackman’s upward trajectory came to a momentary halt in 2020 when she faced an unprecedented case of writer’s block; it was so paralyzing she feared she’d never release another album again. However, thanks to a prolonged period of introspection and a visit to the pub loo (more on that below), Hackman was able to put pen to paper once more. Luckily for us, the result is Big Sigh, Hackman’s fourth studio album, released on January 12th via Chrysalis Records and available on all major streaming platforms.

I spoke to Hackman about her writing process, producing her own music, and how she feels about being labeled “angsty”. She is currently on the European leg of her tour and will perform in North America later in 2024.

Interview Phoebe Roberts
Photography Steve Gullick

Tell me about your latest record, Big Sigh.

I took a small break from songwriting when the pandemic first hit and then found it really hard to get back into writing and being creative. It's like any muscle that you've got to keep flexing it or it's going to get unfit. Big Sigh took ages to write, and it took a long time to record in the studio; every aspect of it felt quite laborious. There wasn't the sense that it was like the easy, fun, kind of speedy records that I've made previously, but it meant that I really just focused on the songs. I wasn't thinking about what it was going to be or what I was trying to say, I was just spending a lot of time and effort trying to write the best songs that I possibly could. It was a long process, but I think it's set apart against the rest of my records because of that.

There has been a noted preoccupation with bodily expulsions, like blood and sick, in your work. These are all things that are often out of our control and can make us anxious. With your music, and particularly with this new album, do you find a safe space to work through these fears?

I struggle with the idea of loss of control and my body failing me; things like that take up a lot of space in my mind and are the root cause of so much of my anxiety. I think that to write music about these themes externalizes them and means that I have something tangible in front of me, so I can observe my fear rather than feel it. It's kind of like pulling a thread out and then being able to look at it. I also love the way that I can take something that feels very pointless and destructive, and by using that as an inspiration, write music. Then I've actually turned it into something that's useful and something that's beautiful or something that people sing along to or that is a shared experience. To take that kind of negative energy and spin it in that way helps me deal with the fact that it even exists, because it finally serves a positive purpose in my life. The best way to analyze difficult feelings is to go back into those emotions, create something out of it, and then look at it and see what it is.

This is the first record on which you've led production and played every instrument, and you are also co-directing your own music videos. How did you find yourself stepping into all of these different roles?

With the music, it's one of those things where it got to the point where I'm confident enough to do more because I've been doing this for a while now. It's about calling a spade a spade really, because I have had quite a big hand in production across my career. When you first start out, you don't realize the parameters of the word producer and what that really entails. Now all those other parts of putting an album together are things I've been playing with a lot. I've always come into the studio with my songs already very heavily fleshed out, with all the arrangements done, so with this one, it was a case of being like, “Okay, let's just cop to it now.” I was stepping into that role knowingly, but it didn't feel like a big step up because I felt like I'd already been doing it. With the videos, that was born out of frustration. A lot of the time when you work with directors, they forget that it's just a visual accompaniment to music, not necessarily a miniature film. You don't have to have a narrative; it can be abstract. Again, I didn't realize that the role of a director is actually to come up with the idea, and I have done that consistently throughout my career. I would come up with these ideas and then hand it over to a director who would change it. When you have a very clear image in your brain, it's hard when the finished product doesn't match that, especially because music videos are expensive and they're a lot of hard work to make.

The video for the track “Slime” is particularly great. It portrays you and your co-star Lea Anderson battling it out in a forest, and shows as your relationship gradually evolves into something more tender and intimate. In a similar vein to my previous question, do you feel that the space of a song, or in this case, the space of a music video, is ideal for exploring human relationships and working out some of their more gnarly aspects?

Definitely. I love writing about relationships because it's like a mirror. If you're introspective and writing about your own emotions, what better way to be able to analyze that further than see how you're reflected back in an intimate relationship with someone? They're always different, and they take you to different places, and ultimately you learn a lot about yourself. I think that's why I always come back to relationships and heartache and lust. “Slime” is very much about that initial lusty phase where there's also an element of danger. There's a lot of dangerous things about lust. It's a very intoxicating emotion, and there's the danger when that drops off, like, is that commitment something you really want to throw yourself into? Also, when you're a lesbian, there’s always people who get pissed off about situations, because everyone knows everyone. So with the video, I really wanted to capture that feeling of tension and how easily that can flip from something that's violent and dangerous into something that is tender and sexual and loving.

Continuing on this tension that is evident in “Slime”, how do you feel about being labelled angsty? In the past, particularly with women, angst has been something that has been problematized and branded as something that needs to be eradicated. More and more, particularly through the arts and music, the expression of angst is becoming not only acceptable for women, but popular.

All of my work is angsty. I think being an anxious, depressive person, that tends to happen. I don't mind it, it’s the kind of music I like. It is a kind of a label I would attribute to what I'd want to listen to. To me, when I think about angst or melancholy in music, I'm not thinking about the artist being anxious or melancholy. I think about harmony and suspended chords being held over dissonance and the way it can pull you into those kind of chest-crushy angsty feelings. I love that about music and I have always loved that about music, and all kinds of music. You find that in Purcell, and you find it in Massive Attack. It's something that draws me in, so I would wear angst like a badge of honour. I actually feel like angst is harder to capture than melancholy. Melancholy is something you drop into, but angst is something you have to pull out. So please, call me angsty.

Boygenius has been vocal about how you're one of their inspirations, and you have elicited comparisons to PJ Harvey, Nico, and Blur. Who would you quote as your own inspirations?

I am very narrow minded and focused when I'm making music, and I don't listen to a heap of stuff because I get paranoid about nabbing things by accident. I discovered Alex G whilst I was making this record and that was a great discovery that's going to be an inspiration moving forward. PJ Harvey demos were also a good inspiration for this record because I really liked having that peek behind the veil at her creative process. Hearing things in their rawest incarnation was really good because I wanted this record to be quite raw and not overproduced. In terms of my general career and songwriting, I think the two most pivotal artists have been Laura Veirs and The Shins. As a teenager, I listened almost exclusively to Laura Veirs and The Shins. It was Laura Veirs and the way she writes and her arrangements that made me feel like I could do it too. She was portraying such depths of emotion that I found so moving, but it wasn't like watching a kind of virtuoso guitar player shredding. She was just playing chords and singing and it was moving me, and I thought, “I think I can do that.”

You have been quoted as saying that your fan base is baby gays, straight guys, and old dudes. Do you still feel like you are singing for any particular groups of people?

That one comes back to haunt me a lot (laughs). I want anyone and everyone to connect and enjoy what I make. I certainly never think about the audience when I'm writing music. That's just distracting and causes too much pressure. I like to think it's an open book for anyone. The main crux of that quote is me trying to say that I have a whole different bunch of people at my shows and that's something I really, really love. I love looking around the room and seeing all these different people because — and I know it sounds kind of corny — everything's quite divisive at the moment. There's not a big sense of unity, which I think is really sad. When I play a gig, especially as a gay woman, and I look into the crowd and there is every kind of person in that crowd, and they're all joining in with each other to be at this event that I have created, that's a really nice feeling and I'm really proud of that. I definitely would like to keep it so that anyone and everyone can connect with my work. Unfortunately, I do feel like that quote makes it sound like I'm complaining in some way about the old dudes, but they buy merch and I love them for it.

They represent, that’s great. I also loved the idea that the inspiration for Big Sigh struck while you were in the pub loo.

This is also something that's slightly coming back to haunt me. Basically, the inspirational moment wasn't when I was in the pub loo. I had been struggling to write and I was at home and I wrote the song “Hanging”, or at least the first verse and the pre chorus, and I recorded it on my phone because I had to go to the pub to meet my friends. I was like, “Oh, this feels like quite a good song”, but you think that a lot and then you listen back and it's a pile of shit. So I recorded it into my phone, went to meet my friends and halfway through the evening, I snuck off to the loo and put my headphones in and listened to the track. I still loved it and still thought it was a great song, and it was this watershed moment. I'd finally breached those walls, and was like, “I can still do this, I can still write songs that I love and I'm proud of.” It greased the wheels for the rest of the record because I had that one in the bag. So, I wasn’t exactly inspired by the pub loo. But it was a nice moment.

Music

Clean Out Louis Meets Clean Out Louis

June 05, 2024

When I was introduced to Sylvester Zabello, Mingus Runge, and their Copenhagen-based indie two-piece Clean Out Louis, my first thought was, “Who is Louis?” A six-year-old Sylvester Zabello had the same experience. On the first day of school, a teacher called out his full name — and a young Sylvester realized that his first name was actually Louis. At a very young age, he had to learn what it meant to become reacquainted with himself — a feeling mostly reserved for existential crisis-having 20-somethings. Sylvester still doesn’t go by Louis, except when he’s with Mingus.

Now however, many decades later, Sylvester and Mingus reflect on that feeling of being unfamiliar, even to themselves, with the release of their music video, “Foreigner.” Directed by Sander Fjeldberg, “Foreigner” is about knowing yourself — searching for yourself, meeting yourself, fleeing from yourself, etc. Any psychoanalyst will tell you that self-recognition can be unpleasant — which is why Sylvester and Mingus are quite literally running from demonic versions of themselves in the video. With a dreamlike video, wobbly instrumentals, and poppy vocals, it’s a combination that’s obscure enough to make sense. While “Foreigner” is partly about anxiety and alienation, it’s also about redemption and a few happy introductions.

By Izzy Capulong
Video Sander Fjeldberg

Watch the "Foreigner" video below.

Music

Drive the Madness

I think I can understand why the mixtape is something of a dilemma for the reviewer. The mixes are muddy, vocals are often incomprehensible. On the other hand, the marvelous unpredictability of the tracks is what makes it genius. It’s Sosa’s danger and his solution. His voice is slow and whacked out. The odd mumbling lurches into auto-tuned falsettos that are grounded by beats, TV samples, and intense special effects. It makes me feel fucked up and hilarious. The overblown bass makes me want to punch my fist into the air and scream bitch. The mixtape came out two years ago and they gave it two stars. Reddit hates it. I exhale more smoke. Laugh.

I’m in California and it’s been a decade since Almighty So came out. I still like Sosa in the car. I feel real tough when my hands beat up a steering wheel with the wind shooting through my hair. I laugh in time to the witchy laugh track in “Woulda Coulda”. I stop at a red light and hear my applause as I finish reading a reddit thread from when the mixtape was released in 2013. It’s satisfying to see user gayboicarti do a takesies-backsies of his original hate. So many suckers are presently clicking behind keyboards to absolve their misjudgements. I know it’s because they all hear the same thing. The “thank yous”. Carti says thank you. Lil Uzi says thank you. Yeat says thank you. Lucki says thank you. Lil Yachty says thank you. Now all the soundcloud rappers say it in unison, with your chest, after the gunshot sample, Thank you Sosa for letting me sleep in your bed. Good. Now all I am waiting to hear is the promised Almighty So 2 album. It’s supposed to come out today but I’m not holding my breath. It's been delayed too many times since its first announcement in 2019.

I have a big imagination, but I have no idea why Chief Keef has put over a decade of space between Almighty So and Almighty So 2. I listened to Almighty So all of last week with the loose hope that its successor would be released last Friday. It filled me with the conviction that Chief Keef is a great artist. The album earned him pioneer status. Change isn’t evil. Laughter is contagious. I bite at the inside of my cheeks and sigh against my parked car, reading the new release date of May 10th, 2024. If he follows through, I know how my first time looks.

(DREAM SCENARIO): MAY 10, 2024

I clench my jaw and shift my hijacked car into sports mode. I’m speeding down the Pacific Coast Highway pretending I’m some big-shot in GTA V. It’s 7 pm and the red dot sinks towards tomorrow. I’m in for a Miami bruise sunset, and if I close my eyes it smells like home too. Salty. I hug the coastline as I click on the album. A young Sosa smiles up at me from a picture frame. It looks like Lil Wayne’s album art. Sosa loves Wayne. I smirk. I love them. I press play, turn the volume up, and flatten the pedal. The bass pulses into my tanned ass and I have this fucked up smile on my face because I’m imagining all the ways I can explode my vehicle. It’s banging, it’s out of control. I punch out into the violet. The rich people stand on their balconies and stare through binoculars at my tail. They whisper curses under their breath because they want to feel this free too.

I clench my jaw and shift my hijacked car into sports mode. I’m speeding down the Pacific Coast Highway pretending I’m some big-shot in GTA V. It’s 7 pm and the red dot sinks towards tomorrow. I’m in for a Miami bruise sunset, and if I close my eyes it smells like home too. Salty.

RE: REALITY: MAY 11TH 2024

I’m now gunning it down the Pacific Coast Highway and there is no baby Sosa grinning up at me. Nonetheless, Almighty So 2 is out and I can believe in it. Chief Keef’s release made my heart, head and hat spring for the ceiling. I may not physically be in my car, but I’m living a lifestyle. I am swimming upstream in a sea of bodies beneath hundreds of Tokyo’s ultraviolet escort signs with my headphones in. The countless snare rolls and the bizarrely amusing lyrics puts that twisted evil grin on my face. It’s charmingly Sosa. I feel fueled up and hot, listening to him rap in “Treat Myself” about wearing yellow diamonds, looking like he peed himself and how he’s gotta treat himself. I slow down in front of one of the glittering escort signs. Should I treat myself and rent a boyfriend after I finish my second round of listening to huge beats and underwear filling bass? Why not? Sosa produced the album in its entirety, and he pays homage to many genres, evoking the ghost of Carl Orff in intro track “Almighty”, then crashing into tracks that source the seventies, soul, and underground drill. It’s a culmination and development of all his previous work — a solid delivery with sharp mixing that cuts through the thickness of mundanity. I pump my arms, hitting a sprint. I skid up the hyper clean sidewalks, redlining in wonder past endless businesses marketed in the most adorable way possible. I could pitstop into any of these places and enter a new story. Suits karaoking, bustling izakayas serving horse meat, chef’s murdering live shrimp with vodka at your table, and bartenders singing kanpai as we take a shot of snake liquor together that scorches down my esophagus. I want to see, hear, taste, and feel it all. Sosa’s jabbing cadence thrills me and the timing couldn’t be better. Its organized madness matches this city and my mind. Spring’s sprung, and Sosa gifted us all with a phantom whip. Come on — it’s summer.

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