2011 was undeniably Alicia Merz's year. Two albums from her solo project Birds Of Passage (“Without The World” and “Winter Lady“) and one in collaboration with Leonardo Rosado (“Dear And Unfamiliar“) released in under twelve months, an intense and ethereal drone-writer profile and the intimate imagery of her music have quickly elevated her to true cult status among sensitive souls.
Enough to pique our curiosity about the peculiar personality of the New Zealand artist, who reveals herself in a conversation that lays bare her human side, inseparable from her strictly musical one.
To me, “Without The World” was an astonishing debut for its extraordinary expressive power: did you work on it over a short span of time, or is it the result of songs you'd conceived over the years?
Some songs were written and recorded over the course of several years, like “Scarlet Monkeys” and “Fantastic Frown”: I had some drafts, and once I made the decision, I recorded the album fairly quickly, maybe in about three months, give or take. All the songs are based on poems written over the years; I've been writing poetry since I was a teenager, so in that sense all the songs were written over a long stretch of time. But most of the music itself, in terms of the drones, the out-of-studio recordings, the guitars, etc., came together within a few months. So, to answer precisely: it was the result both of a concentrated effort and of a poetic creation that had been unfolding for a long time.
How did you first get into music? Is there any connection between your musical background and what you create today?
I don't have a technical musical background, but I come from a very musical family, you know, the kind of family that puts on recitals for the neighbors. So I started making music at a very young age, but I began making the kind of music I make now six or seven years ago, when I was about nineteen. Starting from poems I'd previously written, I began creating songs, recorded them on a cell phone, and then turned them into demos with rented equipment.
The solo, solitary dimension is becoming more and more common in music these days: do you think that's just down to it being technically easier to make music, or is it a conscious choice for a lot of artists?
When I started making music I thought I needed a studio and a band, but I quickly realized I couldn't afford studio time and that I don't work very well with a band, because I love the creative freedom of making music alone, of writing, recording and mixing without any interference. I'm not one of those musicians who works well with others, my whole creative process is solitary. Unless, of course, I'm collaborating with a producer; singing over someone else's music... but in my experience that's more enjoyable than trying to write music with a group of people. If I work with others, rather than developing a song together from scratch, I'd rather the person I'm collaborating with do their job and leave me to do mine.
Speaking of "bedroom" music, some people used to praise it while now they can't stop criticizing it; regardless of how it's perceived, do you think it best suits your artistic personality?
I don't think so. My only aim, if I even have one, is to express myself honestly, and that has nothing to do with where I record. It has to do with the authenticity of the emotions conveyed through the music. If I had the time and the money I'd record in a studio. Aesthetically, home recordings work with my music, but you can achieve the same sound in a studio.
What equipment did you use for the songs on "Without The World"? Could you have imagined your tracks turning out differently, maybe with production or arrangements?
I'm not sure I want to talk about that, I'd rather leave it open to interpretation. I use a lot of effects, I experiment with background sounds and out-of-studio recordings, and especially recordings made with a bedroom microphone, I really love that kind of sound. It's also hard for me to imagine what my music would sound like if I made it differently. It is what it is, and I'm fine with that. Although I would like to record with an orchestra, or at least with strings.
Right from the title, "Without The World" might seem like a solitary, inscrutable record, yet its content has proven to be extremely communicative and full of feeling. Was that an outcome you wanted to achieve from the start, or did you write your songs mainly for yourself?
I really did write them for myself, though thinking that maybe someone else would be able to relate to the record, or escape into the world it creates as a kind of refuge. I try to write the words so they can be interpreted in different ways.
The lyrics on "Without The World" are often narrated in the first person; are they autobiographical stories, then, or do they express other kinds of suggestions?
Yes, they're autobiographical. I wasn't trying to express anything other than my own experiences. I hope listeners can relate to the lyrics in a personal way, even though the lyrics are mostly metaphorical.
Your songs often feature references to ghosts and, more generally, images of lost memories (I'm thinking of "Skeletons" or "The Patterns On Your Face"): does putting them into music serve to keep those memories alive, or to exorcise them?
It's all catharsis. I think it's the only way I know to express certain things and exorcise my demons.
What's your ideal state of mind for writing? Does it depend on your emotions in the moment, or do your songs come together more incrementally, in a more technical way?
Depression! I usually write when I'm depressed, but it's not all doom and gloom, there are some love songs too. As far as the lyrics go, especially on this record, my emotions dictated the outcome. But maybe the compositions themselves come together in a more rational way.
You write both songs and poems: do you have a different approach to writing in one case versus the other? Do you decide beforehand which lyrics to leave only on paper and which to complete with music?
It depends. Sometimes, especially lately, I write poetry with the intention of turning it into lyrics, and I usually write words and music at the same time. I'm not sure I can explain why I leave a poem as it is or decide to turn it into a song, I just know. With some poems I already know they'll become songs, others I want to remain as verse.
The delicate book of drawings and poems included with one of the editions of the record is divided into the four seasons, while your music carries predominantly wintry connotations, even though personally I've found it very "warm" from a human and emotional point of view. How do you experience your relationship with the seasons? Do they affect your moods and the music you create?
The seasons are often a great source of inspiration for me, the feeling of the weather affects my mood, wraps around me, makes me write. This is something I really appreciate about New Zealand. The atmosphere of the day greatly influences your lifestyle.
To sum up the "genre" of "Without The World" I used the expression "drone-writer": do you think it's a fitting description of its content? And, more generally, do you think that songwriting with well-defined songs and melodies can coexist with sonic experimentation?
Yes, I like that, but I'd rather leave that kind of thing to the listeners. In a way I do believe experimentation and songwriting coexist, actually. I've tried to figure out why people into experimental music like my music, and I think it has something to do with the structure of the songs. I think they like the tone of my voice and the way I use it — in an experimental way, like vocal drones and things like that.
The interplay with your brother Bruno's acoustic guitar on the wonderful "Fantastic Frown" made me think back to an old Flying Saucer Attack record ("Further"), whose subtitle read "home taping is reinventing music". What do you think of that statement today?
I think the traditional model is collapsing fast; right now the studio, in the traditional sense, is becoming superfluous for a lot of artists, and I think in the end the major labels won't be able to compete with the proliferation of such an underground scene. Besides, you can record an album at home with inexpensive equipment, and the result is just as good as an album recorded in a studio. It's an interesting time, you can release an album on a small label and get the same attention you'd get releasing on a major. But it's not the tools, it's the creativity with which those tools are used that interests me.
Given the composite nature of your work, many comparisons have been made both with singer-songwriters and with experimental musicians. Among others, I've read comparisons with Hope Sandoval, and in my review of the record I myself mentioned Jessica Bailiff and Liz Harris: which female voices do you particularly appreciate?
I think my favourites are Nina Simone, Stina Nordenstam and Hope Sandoval. That said, I don't listen to much music with lyrics, sometimes I even find them irrelevant, like in Sigur Rós. I listen to a lot of classical music: among my favourites are Arvo Pärt, Satie, Tchaikovsky, Mahler and Górecki.
And, generally speaking, do your listening habits stay within these two main areas, or do you like to range into genres far removed from the music you make?
I don't listen to much music anymore. I listened to a lot four or five years ago, but right now I mostly listen to Gregorian chants, they create an atmosphere I love. Some of my music has a Gregorian chant quality to it, similar in sound and atmosphere, sometimes in the delivery of the vocal parts, other times in the tone. Some songs on "Winter Lady" have a "cathedral-like" quality.
Despite the extremely personal nature of your music, you have collaborative projects underway. What's the difference for you between composing alone and working with other artists?
There's a big difference in sound and in the process. When I collaborate I have to use my head a lot more. Because of that it's difficult in a way, but it's also the fun, stimulating and exciting part, because the finished product always ends up quite different from what I create on my own.
In particular, what was it like working with Portuguese ambient composer Leonardo Rosado on "Dear And Unfamiliar", and how did you happen to get in touch with him?
We met on Myspace a few years ago and he asked me to contribute a song to an album he was putting together for his label, Feedback Loop, and then we decided to start a project together, writing songs based on a film. In the end we chose "Casablanca" and that's how it all started. It was a wonderful experience working with Leonardo. I love what we produced and I hope to collaborate with him again.
Your new record "Winter Lady" has a mood akin to that of "Without The World", but its songs are generally longer and (at least on the surface) more focused on sound texture: do you feel this came from some shift in your approach to music compared to the first album?
I think the difference is that "Without The World" was more of an experiment. With "Without The World" I was developing a style in terms of composition, sound structure and atmosphere, but it was essentially all experimentation. An attempt to find the musicality of my voice. With "Winter Lady" I feel like I've found my voice, not just vocally, but in an overall musical sense, in every direction. The concept was built around "Highwaymen In Midnight Masks", and as an album it tells a story that's both personal and metaphorical. So I think "Without The World" is more a collection of individual pieces, which I hope works both as an album and as single tracks, while "Winter Lady" is a more conceptual, refined record, with a spirit of experimentation. But the two albums are very similar in expressing my emotions in words and music, in an authentic and sincere way.
Two and a half albums in the space of barely a year, plus plenty of other ideas and new collaborative projects. You seem like a very prolific artist: was this simply a coincidence in release timing, or does it come down to the fact that writing music is so natural to you that you can hardly do without it?
It's often very natural for me, but you're right, it's a coincidence that everything is coming out together. Most of the music released this year was recorded over the span of two years. I seem prolific because everything is coming out now, but the truth is there are periods when I create music every day, and others when months go by without me creating anything. It all depends on when I manage to cut myself off from the world.
Finally, what can we expect from you in the future, and what do you expect from music?
There are other collaborative projects in the works and another solo album, a project called Brother Sun, Sister Moon with Gareth Munday aka Roof Light. It's an experimental work that digs through all sorts of psychedelic material: acid-folk, shoegaze, dream-pop, ambient and drone. I'm working with Listening Mirror on an ambient-drone project with ethereal vocals, and on an album with Aidan Baker. We've already collaborated on a track that serves as the b-side of the single "Highwaymen In Midnight Masks", which I really loved; I can't wait to record with him. Amid all this, I want to make another solo album and go back to Italy for a new tour. I hope I'll actually manage to visit Italy this time. I really don't expect anything from music. I hope that what I do can keep stirring emotions in people and be something they can relate to, and I hope to keep making music for many years to come.
Translation by Enrica Chimienti
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This article is an English translation of the original Italian text by Raffaello Russo, published on OndaRock.it. It was translated with the help of artificial intelligence, under the editorial responsibility of OndaRock's editor-in-chief, Claudio Fabretti.
| BIRDS OF PASSAGE | ||
| Without The World (Denovali, 2011) | 8.5 | |
| Winter Lady (Denovali, 2011) | 7.5 | |
| This Kindly Slumber (Denovali, 2013) | 7 | |
| BIRDS OF PASSAGE AND LEONARDO ROSADO | ||
| Dear And Unfamiliar (Denovali, 2011) | 7 | |
| BROTHER SUN, SISTER MOON | ||
| Brother Sun, Sister Moon (Denovali, 2012) | 7 | |
| OTHER COLLABORATIONS (BIRDS OF PASSAGE) | ||
| I Was All You Are (Ep, with I've Lost, Heath Death/Cooper Cult, 2012) | ||
| Taxidermy Of Unicorns (with Je Suis Le Petit Chevalier, Motion Stickness Of Time Travel & Aloonaluna, Watery Starve, 2013) | 7 | |
| SNOQUALMIE FALLS (with Jeff Stonehouse & Listening Mirror) | ||
| Red Fire Dark (CD-R, ltd, Cooper Cult, 2013) |