"The Future's Void," the latest album from EMA (born Erika M. Anderson in South Dakota), could pass as a critique of these modern times, with songs touching on issues of social media paranoia and privacy - subjects that have dominated headlines in recent weeks.
"Feel like I blew my soul out across the interwebs and streams," she howls on "3Jane."
When Anderson started work on the album, however, she didn't intend on making a topical record, and she said she initially felt self-conscious writing about things like the Internet because, at the time, few artists were doing so. "Then [the subject breached the mainstream media] and of course it's like everyone is calling to ask for my take on things like social media," she said, laughing.
We tried to avoid doing the same when we rang the art-punk recently at her home in Portland, Ore.
What's your favorite memory from growing up in South Dakota?
There are so many. We used to just take a car out on some gravel road and drive around and maybe go to some country cemetery. They were these beautiful, free times. I'm kind of a bridge person as far as online connectedness goes. In my teenage years nobody would go online and nobody had a cellphone, which is partially showing my age but is also partially how South Dakota was at the time. The freedom of being in the middle of nowhere and not having anybody know where you are and not having any connection with the outside world is something I look back on fondly.
Do you miss that now? Do you find you're always tethered to a smartphone?
I try not to be. I'm not so much on social media, but I am on the computer working on stuff and making things. I haven't been out driving on country roads in a very long time though, and that's sad.
Do you get issued a copy of "Little House on the Prairie" at birth in South Dakota?
[Laughs.] Oh my God. I feel like I read some of those books, but I did go to Laura Ingalls Wilder Elementary School.
Do you know the state motto?
Oh, geez. What is it?
It's kind of badass: "Under God, the people rule."
Yeah, wow. I feel like there's this whole thing with growing up in South Dakota that it's so vast, and the weather's so insane, that your existence feels arbitrary. I think people do spend a lot of the time looking up at the sky thinking, "Is there a God? What is the meaning of life?" It's like a big void, and you're often wondering, "What is the meaning of it?"
Did that mindset influence your approach to music early on?
Definitely, yeah. Some of the music I was making with Gowns, it was this big, wide-open drone. That reminded me of the vastness of the sky, and the kind of weather that would come in and create this static or these dramatic landscapes.
You were photographed wearing the Oculus Rift on the cover of "The Future's Void." Has that helped you land any performances at tech conferences?
God, if I've gotten those offers no one is telling me. I'm a sci-fi fan, and I do think William Gibson is badass and cyber-punk is [bleeping] cool. I'm talking about the literature and "Blade Runner." That stuff is cool! When the record came out, I don't think anyone had uttered the phrase [cyber-punk] in 25 years or something, and I probably should have just come down harder, like, "What, bitches? I predicted [Edward] Snowden and I'm into cyber-punk. Deal with it!"
When the album was released you did a handful of interviews where you noted you were angry during the recording. Do you have a better understanding now what the feeling stemmed from?
I've spent the past three years trying to figure out why I was angry or ashamed. It's a complex answer, and it's hard to point to one thing. How can you be angry if your record did well and everyone liked it? That's a weird one. Today my thought is I didn't like becoming a personal brand, and feeling like there was this entity that was separate from myself.
It was also difficult becoming more sexualized than I really feel in my core, or how I want to be perceived by the world. One reason I had this nerdy tech picture on the front of my record is I didn't really want to show my face. I didn't want my face, really, to be used in any promotion. At the time I couldn't psychologically do it. Even with the record there's a bit of harshness to it, and I think that's just me reclaiming some of my space.
Andy Downing is a RedEye special contributor. @redeyechimusic @andydowning33
EMA: Sept. 16 at Chicago Theatre; opening for Spoon. $39.50
"Feel like I blew my soul out across the interwebs and streams," she howls on "3Jane."
When Anderson started work on the album, however, she didn't intend on making a topical record, and she said she initially felt self-conscious writing about things like the Internet because, at the time, few artists were doing so. "Then [the subject breached the mainstream media] and of course it's like everyone is calling to ask for my take on things like social media," she said, laughing.
We tried to avoid doing the same when we rang the art-punk recently at her home in Portland, Ore.
What's your favorite memory from growing up in South Dakota?
There are so many. We used to just take a car out on some gravel road and drive around and maybe go to some country cemetery. They were these beautiful, free times. I'm kind of a bridge person as far as online connectedness goes. In my teenage years nobody would go online and nobody had a cellphone, which is partially showing my age but is also partially how South Dakota was at the time. The freedom of being in the middle of nowhere and not having anybody know where you are and not having any connection with the outside world is something I look back on fondly.
Do you miss that now? Do you find you're always tethered to a smartphone?
I try not to be. I'm not so much on social media, but I am on the computer working on stuff and making things. I haven't been out driving on country roads in a very long time though, and that's sad.
Do you get issued a copy of "Little House on the Prairie" at birth in South Dakota?
[Laughs.] Oh my God. I feel like I read some of those books, but I did go to Laura Ingalls Wilder Elementary School.
Do you know the state motto?
Oh, geez. What is it?
It's kind of badass: "Under God, the people rule."
Yeah, wow. I feel like there's this whole thing with growing up in South Dakota that it's so vast, and the weather's so insane, that your existence feels arbitrary. I think people do spend a lot of the time looking up at the sky thinking, "Is there a God? What is the meaning of life?" It's like a big void, and you're often wondering, "What is the meaning of it?"
Did that mindset influence your approach to music early on?
Definitely, yeah. Some of the music I was making with Gowns, it was this big, wide-open drone. That reminded me of the vastness of the sky, and the kind of weather that would come in and create this static or these dramatic landscapes.
You were photographed wearing the Oculus Rift on the cover of "The Future's Void." Has that helped you land any performances at tech conferences?
God, if I've gotten those offers no one is telling me. I'm a sci-fi fan, and I do think William Gibson is badass and cyber-punk is [bleeping] cool. I'm talking about the literature and "Blade Runner." That stuff is cool! When the record came out, I don't think anyone had uttered the phrase [cyber-punk] in 25 years or something, and I probably should have just come down harder, like, "What, bitches? I predicted [Edward] Snowden and I'm into cyber-punk. Deal with it!"
When the album was released you did a handful of interviews where you noted you were angry during the recording. Do you have a better understanding now what the feeling stemmed from?
I've spent the past three years trying to figure out why I was angry or ashamed. It's a complex answer, and it's hard to point to one thing. How can you be angry if your record did well and everyone liked it? That's a weird one. Today my thought is I didn't like becoming a personal brand, and feeling like there was this entity that was separate from myself.
It was also difficult becoming more sexualized than I really feel in my core, or how I want to be perceived by the world. One reason I had this nerdy tech picture on the front of my record is I didn't really want to show my face. I didn't want my face, really, to be used in any promotion. At the time I couldn't psychologically do it. Even with the record there's a bit of harshness to it, and I think that's just me reclaiming some of my space.
Andy Downing is a RedEye special contributor. @redeyechimusic @andydowning33
EMA: Sept. 16 at Chicago Theatre; opening for Spoon. $39.50