The foundations of Preloved’s debut record Willow (out now via Lauren Records) arrived in whispers, then all at once: “As time passed, I started to write more and think more, and I remember saying ‘this is gonna be an album about my dog.’”

Michael “Miki” Watson, the Ottawa-based producer and multi-instrumentalist behind Preloved, joins me over video call on a late-August afternoon, as summer continues to slip away — a feeling that lingers in the record’s warm, wistful production. “I guess I did have a lot of ideas surrounding what it was going to be, more than anything else I've made. I’m just very inspired by my childhood and adolescence, and this was about getting that nostalgia and inspiration out of me.”

Across nine songs of lo-fi indie pop, Willow traces time in both passing glances and painful recollections. “Motorcycle” holds onto youthful longing, while “Granite Hill” watches the people you love change in ways you’re powerless to stop. At the centre of the record is Cas, Watson’s childhood dog, whose innocence and fidelity reverberated through every fold of the artist’s life. Cas’ passing gave that lifelong presence a new weight, but Watson’s thoughts return to everything they had already lived through together. “It was – I don't want to say easy, but it was in the forefront of my mind even before he passed,” they say. “Our upbringing together, and how we became who we are with each other the entire way. We spent almost every day together at a formative time.” Watson reflects on how the two of them “saw each other's insecurities and ups and downs.” To Watson, who commemorated Cas most literally on the record’s title track, “there wasn't a better symbol of coming-of-age and hanging on to something that means the world to you than him.”

I take a breath and think carefully about this next part before it all comes spilling out — I lost two pets earlier this year, both of whom passed suddenly and at young ages. I explain to Watson that that grief has profoundly tethered me to “Willow” in a way I hadn’t quite found the words for, attempting to articulate what I heard in the song: the helplessness of loving someone who can’t tell you where it hurts, and the wish to inherit their pain so they can be free of it. “I'd never really framed the lyrics of that song in that way,” they say. “It’s really nice when someone [else] can frame something you made.” For a long time, I’ve struggled to communicate the magnitude of these losses without bracing for the assumption that pets occupy a lesser place in our families and hearts. In “Willow,” and across the entire record, Watson gives that grief room to exist at its full size.

Watson had been collecting more than memories as Willow took shape. They developed an inspiration playlist to ground the record, and made a Pinterest mood board for the first time. They even wrote extensively about the record itself, an unusual step for Watson and another sign of how fully they were beginning to imagine its world. “Once I got into the swing of things, I had a really clear vision of the creative process I wanted to carry through this record,” they share.

Watson wanted Willow to sound analog but hybrid, drawn in part to the tape-saturated guitars of Glitter Party’s Sam Cohen. Mid-conversation, they flip their camera to casually reveal the tape machine they bought in the summer of 2024, as if this might explain the sound more readily than words. They share their screen, flickering between selections in said inspiration playlist: Fleetwood Mac’s drum sounds and The Roches’ “Hammond Song” were among Watson’s touchstones, alongside the swell of millennial optimism they heard in Madi Diaz’s “Let’s Go” and The Middle East’s “Blood.” The trail of influences also leads back to Watson’s own work, in circular harmony: “There are some things where I used the opportunity, with this record, to go back and take ideas from when I was younger that weren't as fleshed out as I can make them now and to reinterpret them.”

Much of Watson’s musical life is collaborative: they’re a member of fanclubwallet and Neurotypes, a co-founder of Club Records, and contribute to countless other artists’ projects as a session musician, producer, and engineer. It was important, then, that Willow gave them room to follow an idea that was entirely their own. Watson chose to produce the record in an unconventional yet wholly authentic way – nestled in the comforting ambiance of various Ontario Provincial Parks. They estimate that a handful of songs came out of their first two camping sessions – none of these made the cut for Willow, but the trips continued Watson’s broader personal ritual of going outdoors to reset and reconnect. “When life gets crazy, I often don't have time to be creative on my own, which is very exhausting. It can feel rough,” they reflect. Camping allowed them to focus on their work while retaining the solitude that had drawn them outdoors in the first place. Watson says they didn’t set out to make field recordings for this album, though traces may linger in the resulting selections, and they’ve pocketed the idea to experiment in the future.

When Watson is asked how other Ottawa-based artists have shaped their own work, Backseat Dragon comes to mind. The “emotional potency” of the band’s EP hot dog summer—which Watson co-produced—offered meaningful encouragement. “And that keeps piling on itself when you get to work with other artists. You get to relate to each other—when you're in the same city, and you talk about your upbringing and the environment—and help each other out.”

Ottawa’s mid-sized scale lends itself to the creative kineticism Watson finds so compelling. They note that while a larger city might divide musicians into more distinct pockets, Ottawa’s circles frequently overlap: collaborators share stages, projects, and histories that lend each release a distinctive sheen. Watson describes Ottawa, in their experience, as “one big sphere of everyone being creative and inspired by each other” – unburdened by genre, unconcerned with pretension. “Which, I think, is a reason why those mid-sized cities tend to have very electric communities,” they muse.

It’s only a matter of time before we migrate into the trope that, fortunately, neither of us wish to subscribe to: that the best thing Ottawa creatives can do for their careers is, well, leave Ottawa. I think about the stubborn generosity of our scene: how artists keep showing up for one another and adding to what’s already here. Watson has imagined leaving, too, yet their rejection of the city’s assumed limits is quite clear: “[Ottawa is] the kind of city where the general [artistic] ethos around it is that people have to move to somewhere better, and I just reject that idea completely. We can have such an incredible, beautiful, vibrant city if we stay here and build something.”

Watson seems to have found a new ease in bringing Willow before an audience – they describe a recent Nursery Fest performance in Brantford, ON, and how a shift in their live setup unlocked a refreshing freedom from overthinking. “I think I'm at a point now where my songs can speak for themselves a bit more… which is very freeing for me. It makes me feel like I can just play and not have to worry so much — if people connect with it, that's great.”

Though this debut record is a reflection on the memories they have held and the lives they have encountered, Watson offers the impression that Willow is far from a closed book. They’ve toyed with the idea of playing at an Ontario Provincial Park amphitheatre, half-joking that the parks aren’t “about that life,” but it seems like a logical conclusion – returning the songs to the settings where much of Willow was recorded, and to the outdoors where Watson has always felt at ease. “I’ve been feeling very reinvigorated in terms of my own creativity,” they reflect, and though they don’t know what the next project will look or sound like, they’re determined to keep writing. As Willow knows all too well, time will keep moving forward either way – and memories of Watson’s adolescence, their creative peers, and their beloved Cas will continue to evolve, forging familiar shapes in hopeful new seasons.

Willow

out now via Lauren Records

1. R2R (Quits)

2. Heading Out

3. Granite Hill

4. Motorcycle

5. Canton

6. Interlude

7. Mile 11

8. Willow

9. Heart Stops (Birds Talk)

All songs written and produced by Michael “Miki” Watson

Select songs co-written by Hannah Judge

Background vocals by Hannah Judge

Preloved

Instagram | Bandcamp | Spotify

Rebecca Judd is the Editorial & Operations Lead of Also Cool Mag. She is currently based in Ottawa.

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