Pale Spring — from dawn to 'DUSK'

Pale Spring’s Emily Harper Scott; photographed by Danny Siebenhaar.

Pale Spring’s Emily Harper Scott; photographed by Danny Siebenhaar.

The gestalt of our current existence is an event of unsettling uncertainty. Our world continues to be in the grips of an unprecedented pandemic. Our executive powers have unleashed the hounds of tyranny upon the peaceful demonstrating against rampant systemic injustices. As the powers that be meet these mounting challenges with unnerving indifference and inexcusable new lows of intolerance; we the collective people and body politic find ourselves on increasingly unsafe terrain. Surrounded by spikes in a spreading sickness, unemployment, the cataclysmic crash of so-called career opportunities and threats from wannabe dictators of the failed states/prison state ran by inept hegemons — Pale Spring brings us an album that resonates with our collective crossing over the threshold into the maw of eternal night with the devastating new album DUSK.

Almost every song is about feeling scared, unsafe, unsure about what’s going to happen next, Emily Harper Scott, one half of Pale Spring along with partner Drew Scott explained to us; All the lyrical content was directly inspired by issues that arose in my/our personal lives during our move to California [and during] our first year here. The first year in LA is usually tough for everyone, and we definitely experienced that. And it is that level of tension, anxiety and heart thumping urgency that is captured on DUSK. The duo conjure the feeling of being hunkered down and locked-down in a bunker/city flat as the rest of the outside world becomes consumed in the throes of chaos, calamity, confusion along with a host of questionable curiosities. Pale Spring orchestrates an artifice that mirrors the external pangs of madness and general metropolitan mayhem with reflective inner expressions of sensual intimacy and unrelenting tiers of unbound honesty. We recorded 100% of the vocals inside of my closet in our apartment, in a very loud part of central LA. We had to stop recording dozens of times because of helicopters, children screaming in the hallways of our apartment, car alarms, and this very, very loud church service that happens in the apartment below us every weekend — since ceased due to COVID, it seems.

“Almost every song is about feeling scared, unsafe, unsure about what’s going to happen next.”

Emily and Drew pull out all the stops and safety harnesses from the get-go with the mood setting opener "Safe". The sound itself recalls the group's own DIY LA studio (dubbed Drewcifer's Basement), the sensation of descending deep into revelatory layers (as well as electro-goth chic lairs) of truths as moonless midnight visions merge together in a tenebrous aesthetic. "Please U" continues this trajectory in levels of embattled sensuality that carries forward on the ghost synth arrangement of "Bruise", while "Slow Motion" heightens the sexual tension between the pair in progressions that recall steamy trysts amid wartime conditions. These sultry and smoke lit vibes continue onward into the late night driving "Highway" that slowly and seductively burns like a long, deep ride with a lover into the heart of infinite evening as the two headlamp alabaster luster of beams light the way ahead to destinations unknown. The gorgeous torch song "Crystalline" employs baroque touches with sentimental strings and field sounds of birds all aflutter as you are lead to the title track that drops the very basement out from beneath you and into the free fall of an abyss that virtually sneaks up on the listener.

Pale Spring evokes throwback tropes from witch house, sea punk/slime punk styles as the evocative and heart wrenching "Intact" delves into personal questions of identity and the intricacy of interpersonal connections and dynamics. The challenges and trials of adjusting to new spaces physically, mentally, geographically and personally bleed out on "Dripping", to the all consuming call of the ocean's undertow pull of unconscious desires that bend and break on "Pulled Apart", while the trip hop percussive touches on "Delirium" continues those Pacific sea motifs to fatalist extents. DUSK concludes with "Dark" that retreats to those sacred closets, cubbies and corners that we reserve for introspection, sanctuaries of respite, rest and an escape from the realities that surround us with weights and a gravity that at often times feels greater than we can bear. Emily Harper Scott introduced DUSK to us further with the following narrative intro:

I think of the narrators of my songs in the third person, even though my lyrical inspiration comes from my own experiences. I like to think of them as ‘characters.’ They don’t always feel like me, but are, perhaps, like exaggerated/theatrical versions of certain parts of my imagined self.

Pale Spring’s Emily Harper Scott generously provided the following break down of each track on DUSK:

“SAFE”

About pure bed-ridden depression, and the ensuing self-sabotaging fantasy-land my mind reels off to. I’ve kind of realized that there’s this pattern that happens — I get to a point in my depression where I become comfortable (I’m sure this is common), and my mind just reels with wild thoughts, and I’m, like, this depression-statue that can’t move and just exists. When I wrote “Safe”, I was thinking about this — being extremely depressed, sucked into the couch — to the point where, what if the couch kind of melted away... and all that was left was an ocean? And what if I got so lost in this ocean, I couldn’t find Drew again? But then I develop the clarity to see that he’s really still there on the couch, reaching through into this other ocean-dimension, trying to pull me out. I intentionally leave the song on an ambiguous line — grab each others arms, won’t be safe for long. In this fantasy scenario, it’s up to the listener whether he pulls me out, or I pull him in. “Safe” is actually my favorite song on the album. Also, it’s worth noting that I generally write every song from a very visual place, even if it doesn’t always come through in my lyrics. “Safe” was the most recent song written, ended up being a perfect album opener.

“PLEASE U”

The first song written for the album and it was written in Baltimore, in my childhood home, where we lived briefly before moving to California. It’s also the first song I’ve really ever written that’s explicitly about sex. I might allude to it in other songs, but I’ve always been nervous to bring it up in lyrical content. I’ve always kind of felt like it wasn’t something that belonged to me, in a way, like I wasn’t allowed to write about it. With this song and “Slow Motion”, I felt like I was taking ownership or control of my sexual self and letting everyone know. Both songs felt freeing to write.

“BRUISE”

One of the earlier songs I wrote for the album, written really soon after moving to California, probably the same week as “Highway”. I write a lot of songs about being trapped/suffocated by my home life growing up and trying to break out of the shell as an adult, this is another.

“SLOW MOTION”

Another song that’s explicitly about sex, maybe even moreso than “Please U” and we used a Diamondstein sample of some unreleased work of his.

“HIGHWAY”

Literally about the moving road trip west, and being afraid of what would happen to us and our future once we got to LA — it’s kind of from a worst scenario perspective — the more insecure part of me was worried that the move would change us as people and we would grow apart (obviously, that did not happen, but I tend to catastrophize every aspect of my life, and I think these are probably natural things to think about when you undergo a huge life-changing move with a partner).

“CRYSTALLINE”

The most honest song I’ve ever written. I wrote it last year while I was in a leg cast, following a foot procedure. I was really, really lonely. I was actually a really lonely kid too and I feel like when I experience loneliness as an adult, I’m sucked right back into that child-like state of mind. I think it’s just a very vulnerable account of my deepest feelings and insecurities. There’s nothing to really be inferred from the lyrics, they are exactly what they are. This is intentional — I don’t write a lot of songs where I put it all out on the table without any guesses as to what I’m talking about. I’ve always been watching my life on TV is about dissociating — being outside of my body while life is happening around me. I used to feel that way a lot. Tariq from Infinity Knives added the string arrangements, we were going for a kind of back in the day Nick Drake-esque vibe.

“DUSK”

I’m actually not saying real words in the beginning jazz guitar part. It’s just random gobbledygook. I usually start writing songs with placeholder lyrics that aren’t real words and I just left them on this one. I didn’t feel like they needed to be real words. It’s more about building the vibe in this song. The autotune part lyrics are also about being suffocated by my home life growing up.

“INTACT”

We had this beat laying around for a while and I tried to turn it into a more structured song, but nothing worked. I decided to just go wild doing a million vocal layers on it and the chaos ended up working. I started taking lessons with an opera singer during the end of writing DUSK and I re-recorded this song after my first lesson to give it more of an operatic, classical vocal. Along with the theme of being afraid of not being able to find Drew through the blinders of my depression in “Safe” there’s also the line in “Intact”; who will you love when I am not me? I’m usually a pretty upbeat person, but when I’m depressed, I think I become completely unrecognizable — the statue-me. The song starts with that image of bed-ridden depression again — sleep in the deep sun, body like a nest. Like, being curled up in the fetal position in bed in the middle of the afternoon.

“DRIPPING”

Another early song that we wrote, around the same time as “Highway” and “Bruise”. It’s also about moving to California, two lovers working together through something really different for them.

“PULLED APART”

Basically a fantasy-like narrative about two lovers, back in time. It’s about trying to reach a lover across a seemingly endless ocean, and doing whatever it takes short of drowning to reach them. I think when you move to a new place with a partner, you kind of go through this period of time where you’re adjusting at different speeds and meeting different friends and for us, even working different schedules. It can sometimes feel like there’s distance, even if your love is still strong. Luckily, of course, we got past this period, but it was really tough for the first several months. We barely saw each other due to our schedules. It made finishing the album really hard.

“DELIRIUM”

Another fantasy-like story from back in time. It’s written from the perspective of a cowboy who wakes up in the middle of the desert and when he wakes up, his psyche is still acting out his dream-like state. The song follows him through the climax of his dream narrative, then ends at the moment of his ego death.

“DARK”

It was chosen as the album closer because it poses a few existential questions surrounding fate that, I think, were reeling around in my head during the year of album writing. I wanted that to kind of be my last message to the listener. In spite of all of the uncertainty and all of the questions, there’s something soothing about the song — it’s almost like a lullaby. Maybe it will all be okay, in spite of all of this. I may have depression, but I am really a huge optimist.

Pale Spring’s DUSK is available now via Doom Trip Records.

Cover art courtesy of Danny Siebenhaar.

Cover art courtesy of Danny Siebenhaar.