“I’m grateful for the waves of inspiration that keep me going, and the messages from listeners who let me know the music means something to them,” reflects New York-based indie-pop artist Olivia Reid, about her intimate connection with her audience and the musings that fuel her creative journey.
With her latest EP, TO BE NAMED BY THE PEOPLE, Olivia crafts a collection where her heartfelt voice takes center stage amidst surprising musical highlights, like the unexpected saxophone interludes in “Wounds (Healing).” “Sometimes you write songs to heal, but those are the hardest to go through the whole recording, mixing + mastering process,” she shares, letting us into the vulnerability and authenticity that arguably defines both her persona and her music. In our interview, we talk about the creation process of the EP, maintaining a balance between a distinctive sound and continuous exploration, and the biggest challenge she has faced in her music career.
Photography by Josh Campbell
How did you feel when fans decided to keep “TO BE NAMED BY THE PEOPLE” as the title of the EP? Did it change your perspective on the connection between artists and their listeners?
I felt very connected to people on a human level. I had the EP demos on SoundCloud called “TO BE NAMED BY THE PEOPLE” just as a placeholder title, so when people voted to keep it, ironically they voted for a title that could be simultaneously from my brain and theirs. And it’s the most democratic title they could have chosen. I’m really happy it is tied to the final product.
I absolutely love “Wounds (Healing)”. The saxophone part really gives it something extra. Did you collaborate with any saxophonists whose style or interpretation particularly shaped the song’s final sound?
I’m a big fan of the saxophone as an instrument; they just tickle my brain in a way I can’t describe. I worked with my long-time collaborator Will Brown to arrange the saxophones. We worked on this song remotely – in the later pandemic days. Will sent me some beautiful harmonic layers along with improv recordings and fills. I ended up rearranging those separate improvised moments to glue them together into a sax solo for the bridge. I’m very grateful for him as a collaborator to allow that sort of experimentation.
The three-part “Madness” explores the concept of madness as a pathway to healing. Do you feel that society generally overlooks the importance of embracing one’s ‘madness’ for personal development and understanding?
Yeah, I think there is a lot of room for misunderstanding whenever you rely on binaries like “sane” vs. “mad”. Just because one person’s reality is different from another’s, it doesn’t make one experience any less “real” for the person living it. The story of “Madness” is not one of a scary, dark sort of madness – but instead it’s about embracing your unique experience of the world. Healing is lonely and confusing at times, it can make you feel crazy. But trusting your reality is a huge part of healing the pieces of you that have been hurt in the past.
“But trusting your reality is a huge part of healing the pieces of you that have been hurt in the past.”
In our previous interview, you said the only things to really do are outdoors, spending a lot of time outside and exploring.” How has growing up and spending extensive time in nature, like in Montana and Virginia, influenced the soundscapes and themes in your music, particularly in songs like “Madness – Act I, II, + III”?
For sure, growing up in Northern California, and visiting family often in Montana and Virginia caused nature to seep into my music via organic samples, an affinity for acoustic elements, and a love for big canyon-sounding reverb spaces. On this project, that organic nature clashed aggressively with my city influences, now living in New York for several years and spending time in cities like Berlin and Amsterdam. Sonically, “Madness” travels across all those different environments. I’m in Montana in Act I, moving to the city in Act II, and landing alone in my room in Act III. It’s a journey through different kinds of solitude.
Which song on the EP was the most emotionally taxing to create?
“Central Park West.” I wrote that song when my Uncle Chris passed away and recorded the vocals alone in my room for the demo. I couldn’t get myself to re-record it in a big studio, so the vocals you hear on the final track were the original ones. Sometimes you write songs to heal, but those are the hardest to go through the whole recording, mixing + mastering process.
“Just because one person’s reality is different from another’s, it doesn’t make one experience any less ‘real’ for the person living it.”
How do you balance maintaining your distinctive sound with experimenting with new musical styles and elements in each project?
I struggle with maintaining any sort of single sound to be honest. It feels impossible. I am an amalgamation of my influences at the end of the day. So I’ll always be experimenting with new styles, because I’m constantly inspired by something new.
When you are writing music, do you start with the lyrics, the melody, or the music first?
I usually have a concept, a feeling, or a somatic sensation in mind when I sit down to write. Then the chords might follow, as a music bed for a mumbled melody. Beyond that initial stage, it’s a collaborative dance back and forth between evolving the lyrics, melody, and music.
At what point do you feel a song is truly complete?
Months sometimes years after I’ve released it. Only once I feel like it’s not mine anymore, can I let go of all the versions it could have been and accept it as it is.
“I am an amalgamation of my influences at the end of the day.”
What has been the biggest challenge you’ve faced in your music career, and what did you learn from it?
Working to fund my own music projects is a constant challenge. I can’t help but wonder what I could’ve created if I didn’t have to work multiple jobs at the same time as trying to do music. I worry about time, that I’ll run out of it, and miss my window of being “young and interesting” in the industry’s eyes. But it’s a hustle I think shapes me in other ways and has allowed me a lot of creative control over what I make. On days I’m just so exhausted or depleted, I’m grateful for the waves of inspiration that keep me going, and the messages from listeners who let me know the music means something to them.
Where do you envision your future? Perhaps in a more verdant and natural setting?
My future is a multi-verse, so I have no idea which one will become reality. But in many of those universes, I am more in nature, sitting on a sun-soaked porch with people I love, playing music.
Thank you so much for your time!
Thank you, for your energy!
