Gnat, an emerging singer-songwriter from Seattle, provided us with a glimpse into their new release, creative process, and experience returning to solo music after being in a band. Fans of artists like Mitski, Phoebe Bridgers, and Snail Mail should definitely give “Fill” a listen.
Congratulations on the release of “Fill.” What is a particular lyric or moment that you’re especially proud of? Why does it stand out to you?
Thank you! I’m proud of a lot of the writing in this song but I especially like the lines “Honey I still taste you in the morning, when your touch would make my stomach drop” because of the two opposite possible interpretations. A “stomach drop” could be exciting, like going on a roller coaster or something, or it could be more of a reaction to dread, like the feeling you get when you think you’re in danger. The truth of the relationship that ‘Fill’ is about is that I was experiencing both of those feelings at the same time, especially when it comes to physical touch, and I like that this line explicitly lays out both of those options without ever distinctly favoring one interpretation over the other.
You and Sam Stallings recorded this track in five days, and the harmonies were entirely improvised. What was that creative process like?
We actually recorded this specific track in just one day! Each track on the EP got a day dedicated to it and then we had to move on which made for a real whirlwind of a session. Our process for each song was kind of unusual: first we found a chord that could serve as a base for an acapella take throughout the whole thing, then I did that rough acapella take of the song with just a metronome and that chord, then I recorded the guitar over that take, then we re-recorded the lead vocal, and ended the process by adding other instruments and harmonies. It was a pretty wild choice, but Sam was dedicated to minimizing mistakes and making me feel comfortable in the recording setting (which I was relatively new to) so it ended up working well for us. ‘Fill’ was the first one we recorded and it was really fun–we were feeling really energized to get going and we just hammered the whole thing out without even taking any breaks. Obviously the lead guitar and the lead vocal parts were totally solidified when we started, but I found it very difficult to write harmonies, second guitar parts, or a bass line on my own, so I ended up pretty much improvising all of it. The harmonies were literally off the cuff, like, Sam would start a take and just let me mess around and then she’d do another one and we did that for an hour or two until we had a crazy stack to work with. It’s really her amazing ability to frankenstein all of that together that made it sound so good, but that harmony session was maybe the most fun I’ve had in a studio to-date.
Your music combines indie-folk storytelling with lush, layered production. Who is an artist that has been really inspiring to your sound lately?
I’ve been really into Ethel Cain lately. She has a pretty different sound from me, but she’s phenomenal at creating builds that have a sort of tidal wave quality to them, and the synergy between her vocals, lyrics, and instrumental arrangements is so inspirational to me. I feel like she knows exactly what her sound is without being backed into a corner by it, and that makes all of her music sound so effortless while remaining viscerally moving.
After two years with your college band, Dinner With Me, what has been the biggest challenge of returning to solo music?
Writing by myself has definitely become tough since leaving the band. We did a great job of pushing one another outside of our comfort zones and I ended up co-writing on songs that sounded entirely different from anything I would ever write. It feels impossible to come up with new sounds completely by myself, so I really miss that. I appreciate that I have a pretty honed in sound, but I’m really mourning the creative growth that came from trying drastically new things with the band. It’s also been very hard to go back to performing live on my own. You get comfortable being up there with a team, and now I feel vulnerable; like no one has my back. I didn’t really have stage fright with the band and I definitely do now.
Following that up, what has been the best part of returning to solo music?
I learned a lot with the band, like on a technical level, so it’s been awesome bringing that back to my solo work. Learning how to play bass and sing and still do both well was crazy hard but I had to do it to make Dinner With Me work, so it’s been very rewarding to go back to writing and playing guitar and feel how much easier it is to get the hang of a tricky rhythm or an overzealous riff. Aside from technical stuff, there are perks to writing alone. I felt totally comfortable with my bandmates, but there are still some things that just feel too vulnerable to bring to a group of people and ask them to somehow be as invested as you are. Writing for just myself has unlocked a level of emotional expression in my music that may have been a bit repressed for the last few years. There’s also a lot more room for those emotional details when I play alone, simply by the nature of having less going on instrumentally. The words really need to do the bulk of the labor when it’s mainly just vocals and guitar.
As someone who writes, produces, and performs their own music, how do you tend to begin a song? Is there an aspect that you usually work on first or find to be the most difficult?
I’ve recently realized that, for me, a song begins with a feeling. This isn’t the case for a lot of people, but in my artistic process, I need something pretty big to write about if there’s going to be any point in writing at all. So typically the process begins with trying to find a basic chord outline that genuinely matches the feeling that I’m dealing with at that moment, and that’s really the key. I think it’s often surprising to people when I say that it starts with the instrumental part because by the time one of my songs is finished, the lyrics are the obvious thing in the foreground. And that’s true–I’m of the opinion that my writing is my biggest strength in my music and I’m not at all bothered if people agree with me, but even though I’m not any sort of guitar prodigy, it’s pivotal to find an instrumental part that feels like it will work with the lyrics to express the emotion on a higher level as opposed to just forcing chords arbitrarily into the background. So on a literal level, for me, a song will always start with an instrumental part, usually at least a solid A and B section. And that’s often also the hardest part, unfortunately. Most of those big feelings never get a song because I struggle for months to find the right chords and the feeling just passes before I get there.
What is one message or feeling that you hope listeners take away from your music, particularly with a track like “Fill?”
I want listeners to feel like it’s ok to question or be hurt by disappointment, even as a result of your own decisions. I wrote this song when I was obsessed with trying to figure out the ‘right’ thing to do in a situation in which there really was no right or wrong, and all I could do was release the feeling because I couldn’t figure out how to solve the problem. . . it turns out, sometimes releasing the feeling does solve the problem.
Your debut solo record will be coming out this spring. How does “Fill” fit into this larger project?
The EP that ‘Fill’ is on, which is titled ‘It Better Be Perfect’ is intended to be a safe place to land for perfectionists or those with high expectations to cope with and heal from being disappointed, whether that be from others or themselves. It has six tracks, all of which empathize with that sort of dynamic through direct experiences and reflections from my own life. ‘Fill’ is an interesting track in the context of this EP because it describes a situation in which I actually was in control, but was really struggling to cope with the reality of my own decisions. It’s riddled with a tense, buzzing frustration and confusion that the rest of the tracks don’t have in the same way, especially on the sonic level. In a lot of ways, it is the loudest, highest energy song, but it was written in a moment when I felt very unsure of myself.
Growing up in Seattle, you have performed in some iconic grunge venues. What is your favorite part of the live show experience?
Yeah, I was so lucky as a kid to be surrounded by programs that helped young musicians book shows and gain experience from an early age. I think I played my first solo set when I was like 13 years old, so I guess I’ve been doing it for about a decade now! Ever since I started I’ve been essentially blacking out while I perform, which I know is true for many performers, but I am really obsessed with that feeling. I tend to be an overthinker in most other parts of my life, but I feel like I’m so in the moment when I’m on stage that my brain doesn’t even bother trying to remember anything–it’s like I have no choice but to be so genuinely myself for a little while because there’s too much going on, I couldn’t possibly think about it all. And I think getting my start in those grunge venues was huge for that because those people that paved the way and made those places famous, the Kurt Cobains of the world, they weren’t afraid of being themselves at all and they were my example at the time. They were successful because they were so raw and authentic in the words they wrote, the way they presented themselves, and the way they performed, and that was huge for me being a kid and learning what sort of performer I wanted to be.
Looking to the future, what is one goal that you have set for yourself?
I feel passionate about remaining true to that original vision of authenticity. Everyone has their own path and I respect all of the various directions that artists can take, but, for me, music will stop being worth it if I stop being myself. The goal is to work hard without losing myself and my artistic vision in the process.
Check out GNAT on Instagram, TikTok, and Bandcamp.
Listen to “Fill” on Spotify: