Sad13, Speedy Ortiz & the world of Sadie Dupuis
La Madame Royale de la pop indépendante — Sadie Dupuis; press photo appears courtesy of the artist.
Once in a lifetime an artist arrives that changes the discourse and direction of arts in dynamic ways. From curating the soundtrack to our lives, transcending the fleeting and temporal trends that ebb and flow, making the world feel smaller and more inclusive, influencing countless other artists & fans alike, having their custom guitar featured in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, to being named one of greatest guitarists of all time by Rolling Stone.
In the creative spheres of influence and echelons of inspiration; Philly artist Sadie Dupuis has remained a beacon of hope for us all. A progressive force in the arenas of the multidisciplinary arts to mindful civics; the Speedy Ortiz bandleader delivered the first solo Sad13 solo record in half a decade with 1331 and the following exclusive items of obsessive interest and intrigue.
Reflections on inspirations and evolutions by Sadie Dupuis
“Bad” music
I hate posting on social media these days but I absolutely love lurking, and a lot of my most listened to songs in the last few years are the kind of thing that gets posted on r/crappymusic or Catatonic Youths. I’m hesitant to share artist names since I’m filing this under (again, with scare quotes) bad music, and I don't want them to think I think they're bad, since most of it isn’t bad to me in the slightest. I love that free DAWs enabling hi-fi recording are widely available to anyone looking to try out songwriting, with or without experience, and there’s something extra exciting about songs that paint outside the known parameters of timing and melody and structure. I guess I’m doing a long-winded job of saying I like outsider music of the 2020s, but especially as AI slop pervades internet music, and software-assisted perfectionism sanitizes other forms of contemporary music production, it feels pretty refreshing to listen to stuff that’s so bad it’s right. Earnestly, it’s gotten me to approach my own recording imperfections as though they’re valid components of composing and performance (which they are). We could all stand to be a little more bad.
DOPAMINE Books
Logo courtesy of DOPAMINE.
Michelle Tea is a long-time favorite writer, but DOPAMINE, the nonprofit press she started and runs alongside Beth Pickens, might be my favorite of her efforts yet. From their incredible literary anthologies that introduce me to favorite new queer writers (titles and thus themes include Sluts, Witch, Clowns, and the forthcoming Criminal), to their Dopazine series feature chapbooks by luminaries like Maggie Nelson and Eileen Myles, it’s been all winning titles thus far.
Streak running
No, this is not running au naturel—though maybe that’s fun? Let’s ask a less repressed runner. Streak running means logging, at minimum, a mile or more, every day, for some predetermined length of time. Some people do a few weeks, some people do a month, some people (like An Albatross’s Edward B. Gieda III, also a Philadelphia vegan) do it for thousands of days! I’m usually following a training plan for a half marathon or similar that involves a day off every 2 to 4 runs, and I don’t generally do runs shorter than a 5k. But after a couple months away from my running shoes when I was gearing up to release 1331, I wanted to try a new way into the practice that felt like a low barrier to entry. I committed to a month-long run streak this August and made it to day 27—I had to give up when I got asked to play a Bernie Sanders/Ed Markey rally out of town and, in my excitement, left my suitcase and my running shoes at home (along with my toothbrush and a change of clothes, another story!). But now I know I can pick up streak running again any time, and it made a nice start to my day that required a lot less effort and consideration than my usual training. Especially when it’s two hundred degrees outside, 10 minutes panting and sweating in the sun feels a lot more manageable than an hour.
Reflections on the evolution of Sad13 over the past 5 years
I love being a band member and sharing musical space with other people, coming up with our shared lexicon and way of presenting sounds. But one special thing about Sad13 is it gets to totally reflect my whims, interests, and abilities at any given time. Sometimes that feels like I’m getting in over my head, but mostly it’s an appreciated outlet for exploring different musical interests and a way to please myself creatively.
The first record, Slugger, was a necessary outlet for production outside of Speedy—I wanted to test out different eras of pop and pop rock that didn’t feel akin to our band's live show or shared interests, and needed to prove to myself that I still had home recording chops after a few studio albums. During Haunted Painting, I was growing more interested in the hi-fi and technical side of audio, and wanted a chance to try out different bigger studios, working with more kinds of equipment and friends who were engineers. On 1331, I wanted to come back to the project studio and incorporate all of the record-from-home expertise I’d garnered during COVID and from working on freelance sessions. Doing the mixtape alone also felt like a necessary component of making music after a debilitating accident that shattered my elbow; it didn’t make sense to put expenses into studio time, when my ability to work was constantly fluctuating and impacted by my levels of pain and mobility that day.
Lyrically, my concerns are boringly similar across projects (and books): my community, my relationship to it, its relationship to the wider world, all the things I'm thinking about in a given day. But of course my language for describing those kinds of stories, and my lens, changes as time goes by. I feel grateful I have this side outlet for making music that is so flexible to and steered by my motivations and limitations during any given phase of life, and it always feels like Sad13 recharges me and teaches me new things I can use with Speedy Ortiz or other collaborators.
1331 finds Dupuis embracing an artistic execution of spit-sharp economies that operate within the punchy expanses of hyper pop affinities. After a major elbow injury sustained from a bicycle accident in June of 2024 that delayed touring and required reconstructive surgery and rehabilitation: the self-produced / performed / engineered record was developed piecemeal over time with increased attention placed on the utmost of concision and inspirational intention.
Introspection from the looking glass of consciousness shines forward on the opener "I Am Now Completely Invisible", where memories move from those meaningful moments and into the mystery of the modern of distortion and systematic static. Academic corporatization concerns and conundrums take off on "Art Institute" that embodies that the opportunistic empires that lure in the wide-eyed aspiring aesthetes, dangling carrots of accolades, and other associated bragging rights. Then the towering adversity and angst of activism in the current age of constant quagmires, silencing of dissent, distortions, and more both at home and abroad are all dug up in the industrious "Watermelon Manicure".
Cover art courtesy of the artist.
Electro exuberance bops against the borders of the bombast on "Six Ways", as the dedicated denizens of the long game are paid tribute on "Pretty Little Lifers". The polyps of populism and the tributaries that lead down to the base level streams of tribalism on the electoral college cataclysms are illustrated as unfortunate truths on "People's Loser". Plagues, pop, and circumstance simmer and stew on "Locust Releaser" that buzzes through the atmosphere and into the fuzzy ballad of "Fiend of the P", as the beats bubble in the apologetic audio immersion of "Sorry for Your Entertainment". Journeys to the cosmos, and other such exhibitions and examples of transcendental sentiments soar through the stratosphere on "Kissing".
Battles against the the most reactive and principle kneejerk instincts duke it out on "Mean, Vindictive, Arrogant" that dovetails with the honest to goodness realism that charges forward with a slightly cynical heart that pushes against the gravitational pull of pessimism on "Hopeful but Not Optimistic". "Third Rodeo" closes the album out with the longest song on the album (clocking at a whopping one minute and forty-seven seconds), offering intimate and candid reflections on the suitors and cycles of the past that makes the beauty of the present possible. 1331 is an exercise in condensing expressions and privy views through limited spaces of time where the evocative Sad13 style is at its most expansive yet (with a sound and sensibility that seeks to break out from the limitations of it's own confines).
The new Sad13 album 1331 is available now via Exploding in Sound Records.