Late Nite Laundry Makes a Mesmerizing Return with Self-Titled EP (Acrophase Records)

 

Late Nite Laundry by Charlie Young

Faced with the unavoidable turmoil of cancelled gigs and changing circumstances, Late Nite Laundry had no choice but to find their footing and start anew. The Chicago psychedelic soul band—composed of guitarist Ari Lindo, bassist and designer Emily Burlew, keyboardist, engineer, and producer Brenden Cabrera, and drummer Alex Santilli—has re-entered the scene with a crisp and noteworthy EP, Late Nite Laundry, out via Acrophase Records.


Featuring Lindo and Burlew on vocals, the EP hits a breezy stride as it flirts with elements of Brazilian jazz, bedroom pop, and R&B. Encompassed with a dazed warmth, its four tracks stand apart and—at once—melt together. Let Late Nite Laundry wrap you like a cozy plush blanket and sink into the richness of its sound.

Rebecca Judd for Also Cool: Stylistically, your band takes influence from a wide variety of genres and eras, which culminates in a warm and comforting blend of psychedelic soul. Which sonic inspirations did you reflect in this EP?
Late Nite Laundry: In 2020, we recorded and released a project titled The Michigan Tapes that we believe initiated our new sound. It was our first experience self-recording and producing, which we did in March 2020 soon after the world entered lockdown. We took those same practices and applied them to a more refined recording process over the last year [when making this new EP]. Although we are heavily inspired by many genres and bands as individuals, we rarely reference specific artists between ourselves. Instead, we are inspired by individual elements within our favourite music and [find that] each member brings a different flavour to the table.

Also Cool: Your band underwent a fundamental transformation with the disruption of COVID-19 – you’ve previously mentioned that it was a time to “rediscover [your] sound and smoothen [your] process”. Can you elaborate on the ways in which this time redefined Late Nite Laundry as a band?

Late Nite Laundry: Without shows to play in 2020, [our] band regrouped with writing and recording sessions. Previously, we had only experienced recording in a traditional studio format. After the first EP, we wanted to stress experimentation and expand on the production process. Since then, all recording, production and mixing is handled within the group. This has given us the space to push our creative boundaries, while also developing our skills and relationships with each other.

Late Nite Laundry by Charlie Young

AC: Among the changes you experienced throughout the past couple of years was a change in lineup, with Late Nite Laundry’s original lead singer leaving the group. Nonetheless, you previously identified a sense of synchronism between the four remaining bandmates that led you all to push forward. Were there any defining moments where you felt this connection, or was it a gradual ease?
LNL: Naturally, we think it took time to rediscover ourselves. We spent a lot of our initial meet-ups at the practice space writing new material and reworking old songs. A clear moment in our memories was when our song, “Fantasy”, was first written. During a home recording session for the track, Ari [Lindo] began writing lyrics and sang upward of 100 recorded vocal takes. This was a defining moment for the band, because at the time we had contemplated auditioning for potential singers. Releasing that song was a symbol of what we had become and it clearly established Ari as the new lead vocalist.

AC: I’m particularly interested in the duality of “Floating”, which closes the EP. There’s a feeling of one’s resurgence and contentment that soars past memories of a fragmented relationship. I found myself swept up with its instrumental jazzy vibrance and hungry for more all too soon. Which emotions and decisions went into this track, and how are those contrasted or connected with the rest of the EP?

LNL: This was one of the first songs first ever created for Late Nite Laundry. Ari started writing it in 2016, before the band began. It talks about Ari’s first relationship with his high school sweetheart, and it’s intended to capture the euphoric highs and deep pains that he associates with this time. Ari also has a special musical ability to weave into different styles.

This song really shows our indie styles on the choruses with the layered lead synth sounds, but subdues you with witty chord writing on the verses. The outro of the song has always felt like a different planet from the rest. Everything from psychedelic harmonious textures to Alex [Santilli]’s tasty drum fills, the ending ties in the sound that Late Nite Laundry truly represents. We feel like there’s examples of this in all of our songs.

AC: With this new release, what are your plans for re-introducing Late Nite Laundry to the world? Which directions are you next hoping to explore as a band? 

LNL: Now that the EP is out, we are focusing our efforts on touring and promoting the project across North America. Outside of performing, we are a group that consistently writes and records. Naturally, there’s a lot of musical ideas flowing in our brains whether in demo form or just jammed out at the practice space. What we definitely look forward to the most is playing and making music. Sometimes, that means hanging in each other’s living room, jamming at the spot, or getting away to a cabin in the woods (like for The Michigan Tapes). We’re not sure what we will release or when, but our engines never seem to turn off.


Late Nite Laundry

Out November 4, 2022 via Acrophase Records

1. Hold

2. Sizzle

3. Hi, Can You Hear Me?

4. Floating

Written and recorded by Late Nite Laundry

Engineered by Brenden Cabrera

Mastered by Kelly Hibbert

Photo by Charlie Young

Album design by Emily Burlew


Late Nite Laundry

Instagram | Facebook | YouTube | Spotify | Bandcamp

Soundcloud | Apple Music | Website

Rebecca Judd is the features editor of Also Cool Mag.


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Finding Freedom Within Limitation: Chicago's Pansy Shares Self-Titled Debut

 

Vivian McCall, photo courtesy of the artist

Spring has sprung, and this week we’ve got the brightest bloom in the bunch on repeat. Meet Pansy, the solo project of Chicago-based musician Vivian McCall. Today, McCall releases her self-titled debut album on Earth Libraries: a nine-track collection of impressions inspired by her experiences as a trans woman. Through Pansy, McCall shares how she reconnected with herself throughout her transition, and parses the highs and lows of embracing her vulnerability. Before creating under the name Pansy, McCall established herself in the Chicago indie scene with her band Jungle Green. As an analog admirer, McCall realized Pansy using the same lo-fi equipment that captured Jungle Green’s recordings over the years. The result is a candid, sunny debut that reminisces 90s college-rock as a backdrop for McCall’s frank lyrics. We connected with McCall leading up to her release to chat about her musical beginnings, rejecting confessional songwriting and leveraging musical imperfections and limitations to make an honest record.

Zoë Argiropulos-Hunter for Also Cool: Hey Vivian! Thank you so much for chatting with Also Cool. First thing's first - congratulations on your debut record! To get things started, how does it feel to have realized such a work and to have had so much buzz and excitement surrounding its release so far?

Vivian McCall: Well, to be honest, it really caught me off guard. I always wanted people to like and connect with my music, but never expected all this interest. This is such a cliche... but I made this record for me and hoped it would resonate with other trans people, too. I thought it was so specific to my experience that people wouldn't care about it, or worse they'd tokenize it. I'm relieved that people aren't doing that or projecting weird trans stereotypes onto me. I think the specificity is exactly what people enjoy. They've been able to connect their own troubles to it — troubles that have nothing to do with being trans. That's been beautiful to hear about. I'm happy that something so me is finding an audience.

Also Cool: Knowing that you’ve been playing in your band Jungle Green over the years, when did you find yourself wanting to explore a solo musical endeavor, and where did this project find its beginnings?

VM: I've been writing songs since I was 14, but this is the first time I've wanted to put anything out. You can't really write songs you care about when you're out of touch with yourself. The point of Pansy — before it was anything or even had a name — was to write songs quickly from a really honest place. I didn't want to play a character and I didn't want to embellish any parts of myself, because that was literally my entire life up to that point.

It's hard to explain to people who aren't trans, but before I went on hormones, I could intellectualize what I felt, but I couldn't express it, couldn't talk about it. Everything felt grey, and I don't I mean nuanced, I mean indistinguishable. I used to think there was something really wrong with me, like I was missing some essential part of my soul. So, yeah, I could write songs, but they were totally meaningless! They didn't even feel like a part of me.

These songs did. That's the difference; what I'd always been waiting for. I could write honest songs because I was recognizing my needs and the actual pain I'd been experiencing. It's just trauma and learning how to process it and dig yourself out. So when you listen to the album, know that some songs came before this big tectonic shift in my life… and everything else came during the midst of it.

The whole process was like that scene in The Wizard of Oz when Dorothy walks from the interior of her grey house to the colorful magical land of Oz, only to be ambushed by the Wicked Witch of the West. In my case, the Witch was me and everything I'd ever buried.

Vivian McCall, photo courtesy of the artist

AC: Thank you so much for sharing your experience and opening up about the evolution of your music. Staying in this vein of thought: You've spoken about realizing that you matter on your own terms, rather than from the approval of others — which I think is really powerful. How did you maintain that mindset while creating such an intimate and vulnerable work?

VM: I had to if I wanted to feel okay about what I was making; I had some concerns. For one, this record is not a diary and that's purposeful. I didn't want my songs to be read as confessionals or emotional pornography for liberals. I was really not okay for a long time and these songs were my way of finding meaning. Every song encapsulates some big emotion I'd wrestle with for months. The conclusions are ... ambiguous, because that's how I felt, and still feel, about womanhood.

I didn't stop and ask myself if the music was "good" as often as I normally do. I was really focused on asking, Okay this line... is this totally, one hundred percent, true to how I feel. Seriously, I did that like I was interrogating myself, which is so, so ridiculous.

I truly hope this doesn't sound self-serious because really, some of these songs came out fully formed and I didn't want to think that critically about them because I was afraid of altering the meaning along the way. I was so deathly afraid of using my music to manipulate my own emotions because it's such a powerful thing when you're vulnerable. At that time, that could have been really dangerous!

Vivian McCall, photo courtesy of the artist

AC: To touch on the sound of this record: You’ve spoken about your affinity for analog recording. What about analog production first moved you as a musician, and how has your relationship with it impacted your creative process?

VM: Recording music uses such a different part of my brain than writing it,and that's why I love it. Classic head and heart, right brain/left brain sort of thing. If I've laid my emotions out in a song, I can start asking how to make those feelings come across clear in a musical sense, or how to make the song catchier if that's what I'm going for.

Analog recording is so limiting, and yet those limitations are freeing. I have to get the right takes. I have to commit to the sounds I'm making. I have to live mix the stereo mixes, making the recordings you hear a kind of performance, too. It can be really frustrating, but I'm not tempted to endlessly tinker with my recordings. They are what they are and I love that.

That's a huge part of the process for me, really pushing whatever I'm doing to new places that I didn't expect. I don't like going into a song knowing what I'm going to do, because that kills the fun and keeps me from exploring. I'm not a master technician or anything, but I'm creative — partially because I don't totally know what I'm doing — but I know what I like. Sometimes that means precision (take after take), sometimes that means making it sound really fucked or sloppy; embracing whatever imperfections and limitations I have as a musician.

AC: To end thing's off, what most excites you about the future of your music career? Where do you hope to find yourself once live music is possible once again?

VM: Well, I'm excited that every song I've written since finishing this record isn’t explicitly about the transition. [My] new songs aren't about transness, but are written from that perspective I guess, just because it's me. I'm excited to be back on a stage again and start figuring out what I want to do next, musically.

Just being a trans woman puts you in some unique emotional situations — some good, some bad — and for the first time in my life, I'm present enough to actually experience my feelings. That's still really crazy to me. I feel like such an alien sometimes, being like, Wow isn't it crazy to be a person? It's so corny. But that's more or less the truth of how I feel. Out in the world, I don't feel as aggressive about my identity anymore.

I wrote a lot of aggressive rock stuff during this huge power-pop phase right before the pandemic hit. I liked the idea of writing lesbian love songs in the language of this super beta-male, cartoonishly sexist genre that I do… love. Then I got my heart really banged up and wrote a bunch of sweet acoustic music. There's a lot, a lot more than I'm used to sitting on at once.

AC: Before we let you go, how is the best way that we can support you as an artist and what are you future plans?

VM: Well, I really need a band! So I guess if you like the record, just write me on Instagram. Maybe we'll get along!


PANSY

Out via Earth Libraries on April 2, 2021

a0157634164_10.jpeg

1. Who Will Love Me Enough?

2. Anybody Help Me

3. Tomorrow, When I’m Even Better

4. Trash

5. Shoes

6. Turn Ur Back

7. Woman of Ur Dreams

8. Mommi Housi

9. Me In Mine


Pansy

Instagram | Bandcamp | Spotify

Zoë Argiropulos-Hunter (she/her) is the co-founder and managing editor of Also Cool Mag. Aside from the mag, she is a music promoter & booker, and a radio host & DJ.


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