On Meeting Through Music, First Times, and Utilizing Lemons: A Love Letter to Laura Elliott.
In my life, I have stumbled into being friends with a few rock stars. When I was younger, being a rock star seemed so unattainable, even if my mom told me that I could be one someday. Eventually, I reached the conclusion that, since I had put no effort into learning to play or write, I would not get to be a singer-songwriter. Despite my fantasies of being overheard belting in the shower by a record executive, my small Washington town was not ripe with opportunity. Nevertheless, I prevailed: I infiltrated the music industry by tricking acquaintances into bringing me on tour and stealing all their friends. Among them was Laura Elliott.
I first heard Laura’s music while sitting in the passenger seat of my friend’s car. He had borrowed it from his dad, and I feigned excitement about the “sick ride.” We took on the hills of San Francisco in this sporty Nissan, and he urged me to listen to an unreleased track by a girl he met the week prior. (The perk of being surrounded by musicians is that they are always giving you access to new, unreleased music that never fails to make you feel like you are in on a big secret.) When God Complex played, I loved her music immediately: she was like a Phoebe Bridgers with a New York twang, singing about some dude failing to step up to the plate. I LOVE songs about how men have failed.
My friend may have played this for me in passing, but I became obsessed. She only had a handful of songs out on spotify at this point, and if we still played tapes, I would have worn through hers in a week. I did not listen to anything else. I hadn’t been so taken by music since I first heard Stranger in the Alps! Her words felt cathartic. And of course they were: years later, when Laura and I had grown to know each other well, I could see how these songs helped her work through her emotions. This is evident as you listen: her music feels like release. Talking to her today, I asked if she felt that song writing was similar to journaling. She told me that it probably would be, if she didn’t hate journalling. Typically, I would launch into a lecture on the importance of journal practice, but if her practice means I get lyrics like “Drag me ten feet underground/Somehow you look smaller now” then I will Fold on my position.
The first time I saw Laura live she was playing at The Echo. I had been secretly listening to her EP on an incognito soundcloud link for months. (I actually don’t know if I have ever told her this.) Watching her perform, I was moved by her joy. She is a bubble of energy; she beams onstage and it is a gift to hear her giggle. She held herself with effortless cool in a big t-shirt and camo pants. For someone who writes such sad songs, you would be shocked how much sunshine radiates off her when she is performing. That night, my friends and I got drunk and wandered Echo Park. The end of the day is hazy in my memory, ending with drunk tacos, running through the McDonald’s line, and discussing our ability (or lack thereof) to jump on top of the grocery store building. I left Laura at the venue, but she kept living on in my headphones.
The first time Laura came to San Francisco, I met her and her mom (tour manager extraordinaire) for lunch. We walked on the pier, we saw the seals, we took BeReals, and I watched her play at the iconic Fillmore. We walked the halls gawking at the posters of our musical heroes. I heard her play Fold that night, Laura’s favorite song on her upcoming EP. The first few seconds in, I was moved to tears as her voice floated perfectly on top of intricate guitar melodies.
The first time Laura came to visit me in Los Angeles, we solidified our friendship in cups of tea and mid-day vents and borrowed skirts. They say to never meet your heroes, but time revealed to me all that we had in common: despite my idolization, she was just another 20 something trying to figure her shit out. She didn’t mind the air mattress in my living room, my mini meltdowns, or my lack of creamer options. She listened to my woes and I listened to hers. Laura is made of sweetness down to her core, even when the world is giving her lemons. I watched her grab the citrus, slice it open, and squeeze out Car Sick (Laura’s new, highly anticipated EP).
The first time I heard a recording from Car Sick was during this LA trip. Late at night, we crept out of my apartment to sit in the car and listen to her demo over the speaker- iPhone quality would not do. My neighbor opened her window and glared at us, but I was too excited to care. I knew this was the start to a very special project.
5 tracks long, Laura describes this as her “most cohesive project to date.” This is the first project that she has had a clear idea for from the beginning: from visuals, sound, and concept. Some of the credit for its cohesivity goes to her producer, Tony Davia. This is Laura’s first project with a distinct vision from the start, and collaboration along the way. (Laura would not describe herself as a “collaborative girly”). When I asked her why working with Tony felt different, she beamed, “I trust the heck out of him. From the very start, he told me how much he believes in my music, and he really puts his all into it… He believes in me in a way that helps me believe in myself… He really started to feel like an anchor.” When you listen through for the first time, keep a keen ear on the production to hear the trust beyond the artistry.
This EP contains some other firsts, namely that Bug is her “First Ever Love Song.” She confessed, “it’s the first song that I feel like represents love in only a positive way. If you think about it, Fold is a love song too, but in a very different way.” I did think about it, and she is right. Laura is a lover and a feeler: her emotionality is a compliment to her expert guitar and vocal abilities. This dichotomy of skill and vulnerability is what leads us to artists like Boygenius, Haley Heyndrickx, and Pinegrove, and has increasingly become part of the zeitgeist of popular music. Even when she is singing about her devastation, it comes from all the loveliest places of her heart.
Laura told me some other favorite firsts of hers, including her first crush (the parents from spy kids), first favorite albums (Donnie Hathaway, Live at the Bitter End and Pinegrove, live at Audiotree), first concert (James Taylor as a wee babe), and her first performance in a musical (Jack, Into the Woods, Jr.). While I wish I could see her as Jack, I will happily settle down with my voice memo version of Car Sick, and I can’t wait for you all to join me in listening on all major music platforms this January.