Twerp Verse incorporates material from home demos
Sadie Dupuis began Speedy Ortiz, her acclaimed Massachusetts-based indie rock band, in 2011 with an EP and full-length demo for which she recorded every instrument. Soon after, Speedy Ortiz bloomed into a full-band, with which Dupuis has released two studio records, Major Arcana and Foil Deer. Dupuis then returned to her bedroom-recording roots with a solo pop-rock record under the name Sad13.
Now, Speedy Ortiz is back with a politically charged new record, Twerp Verse, featuring long-time members Darl Ferm and Mike Falcone on bass and drums, and with the addition of new guitarist Andy Molholt. Two singles (with memorable videos) have already hit the web: “Lucky 88” is a synth-driven anthem, both cynical and full of hope, while “Lean In When I Suffer” is as twisted as Speedy has ever been. A third single, the dark “Villain,” dropped just yesterday.
I spoke to Dupuis about Speedy’s new sounds and techniques.
WW: You went to school for mathematics and music, and then you transferred into a more lit-based program, is that right?
SD: Yeah, exactly. I went to MIT for two years, which is one of the — I mean, I guess you guys know. (Laughter.) It’s like a tech school! And then I went to Barnard, which is a women’s liberal arts school and I studied poetry there. I would’ve continued to [study music] at Barnard, but, as a transfer student — I mean I only have really nice things to say about both of those universities, but obviously especially in America, so much of the university system is based on oppressive fees for students.
There was some kind of complicated thing where all of my credits wouldn’t transfer over, because, I don’t know, schools just want to gouge you for money, in spite of how wonderful the professors are. I don’t have nice things to say about bursars. So I couldn’t transfer any of my music credits and, in between, I was working, and I continued to work part time through the rest of college, so I really couldn’t have taken any extra time to pursue the double degree. I had to pick just one and it seemed like writing was the one that would lead me to a job, which is really funny considering now I play music full time.
WW: I was curious as to whether there was anything you learned in particular from the music program that you took that has really stuck with you.
SD: Well, MIT’s music program is pretty small, but it’s really interesting. You can pick from different concentrations — you can be in performance, or engineering, or music history. I was focused on the music history angle, because I wanted to be a music writer, but I did take courses in ear training and theory, which I already knew about but really enjoyed at the time — I kind of wish I still had that knowledge.
I did take an electronic music composition class. I had really only done super melodic songwriting, and this was a lot of recording found sounds, and making soundscapes, and doing 30-minute experimental noise pieces for my coursework, and learning to use Pro Tools and MAX/MSP. That’s probably the class that I still think of and refer to the most when I’m working on my own music, because I do quite a bit of home production, and the impulse to put in a weird found sound somewhere is related to this noise music that I was working on at the time.
WW: I know that you write the songs in Speedy Ortiz, but when it comes to arranging it with the band, is that something that you also do on your own?
SD: The first EP and album were just me. Generally, I’ll home record a demo. It used to be that it might’ve just been me and guitar, or it might’ve been me and guitar and drums and bass or whatever. But now, when I send a demo, it’s pretty fully fleshed out. I’ll send that to my bandmates and they’ll sit with it, and then when we meet up we’ll see what isn’t working, what needs to change, what other ideas they might bring to the table. The song is always written, and I always have a proposed arrangement, but it doesn’t always [end] there, because my bandmates often have better ideas.
WW: How has that affected how different the albums sound?
SD: I’d say the songwriting process for Twerp Verse and Foil Deer were pretty similar. We recorded Major Arcana very close to live — so there are overdubs, but there aren’t too many, and we did 14 songs in like four days. We weren’t rushing, but that was the studio time we could afford. I don’t think it sounds like a totally live album because Justin Pizzoferrato, who recorded it, is such a good engineer, but we weren’t really thinking about making a headphones record, which is the kind of music that I like. On Foil Deer, that was more of a focus, and then on this record, because I had the time to get better at production working on the Sad13 record, we wound up using a lot of the components from my demos on this record.
In the past, we might’ve recreated some of that stuff in the studio, or omitted some of it because there wasn’t time. This time, we kind of just dragged it right over from the sessions I’d started at home. So there are more details in there than you could get with four people in a room for however long we tracked for. There are additional synth and drum programmings I spent a long time on at home.
WW: Is that where the synth sounds on “Lucky 88” come from? I imagine you were inspired to include those by the experience of the Sad13 record.
SD: Yeah, I did those all at home. I think it’s not fair to only allow the Sad13 project to do pop stuff, because Mike and Darl and I have been in the band together for — how many years at this point? Six or seven years. And we listen to a ton of pop music together. We love synth-based music. I did a more synth record — I don’t think that should mean that it’s off limits for my other bandmates and friends. I think the big difference is that Sad13 was just me, producing and playing everything, whereas [with] “Lucky 88,” I sent the really early demo to Mike and he emailed me, I want to say, like five different files of drums. And I was like, “Oh, which one of these are you thinking?” And he was like, “All of them.” So we layered the five different drum parts, and Darl wrote this really involved bass part that I’m obsessed with. I can see why it sounds like Sad13, because it’s more synth-oriented. It’s really coming from all of us. We all like Charli XCX in this house. (Laughter.)
WW: Now, when you say “in this house,” do you literally mean you all live in a house?
SD: No, I just mean the Twitter meme “In this house we appreciate [blank].”
WW: I clearly need to get up on that meme specifically.
SD: I live alone as fuck.
WW: Well, you know, I use Instagram as a way to wake up, and there’s a very fine line — it’ll keep me awake for the few minutes that I need to wake up, but then if I’m not careful, it’ll keep me in bed for the next hour and a half.
SD: Well, it’s funny that you say that after I talked about Charli XCX, because I used to do the same shit, and Charli XCX has made me a more productive adult. I used to just sleep with my phone next to my bed and that was my alarm. But — I’m going to give props to a brand — I got these Sonos speakers, and you can set an app on your phone so that they turn on at a certain time like an alarm and play whatever playlist you want. So I leave my phone in another room where I can’t get to it and every morning at like 8 a.m. “Porsche” by Charli XCX comes on at full volume and plays on a loop for like five minutes and I can’t turn it off. It makes me wake up, and I wake up so happy. It’s so much better than the Instagram scroll, which is what I’ve done for the past five years.
WW: I always feel like I come out of that scroll and my eyes don’t work anymore, like I can’t focus on the things around me.
SD: Yeah, it’s bad.
WW: I wanted to ask you about “Lean In When I Suffer” a little bit, because that’s a song that really throws me off whenever I listen to it, like I can never tell when the chorus is about to kick in.
SD: People are having a hard time with that one. I feel like all the comments online are like, “I’m confused by this song.”
WW: There’re a lot of very catchy parts, but they’re put together in such an interesting way.
SD: It’s normal for Speedy Ortiz songs to not stay in their time signature more than anything else, you know? Our second guitarist, Andy Molholt, joined over a year ago, and when he was first learning all the songs he was like, “Oh I get it now, there’s always two extra beats or two less beats,” and I was like, “Yeah, that’s pretty much how it goes.”
WW: You mentioned in an interview that you have specific arrangements tied to counting, so I was wondering if that was playing into that song.
SD: At this point, I don’t even think about it, because the way that I compose is mostly in my head, and then I’ll sit down and try to figure out what I was working on. So at this point, I [only] have to sit and think about it when I’m teaching it to my bandmates. I’m not sitting down like, “Oh, this song’s going to be in like 7/8 here and then 10/8 for the next measure.” It’s just the way that the melody naturally translates. It tends to wind up in these changing time signatures. I think what’s really exciting about music is subverting what the person listening expects, but doing it in a way that’s still really pleasant and “pop,” so I love to have something come back for a different count or be on a different beat the second time it appears. Those are the funny things that make composing such a cool hobby and job.
WW: So I’m also an amateur songwriter — well, you’re a professional songwriter, I’m an amateur songwriter…
SD: (Laughter.) I’ll be professional when I can do a co-write with Charli XCX.
WW: What I noticed for myself is that there are certain songs that I’ve done that kicked me up into a new songwriting bracket, so I was suddenly like: “Oh crap, all my other songs are bad now! I need to write more songs like this song!” I was wondering if you had similar milestone songs either from this album or from your earlier albums, songs where you hit on a brand new thing.
SD: I don’t know if it’s a brand new thing. Playing this style of music, there are only so many compositional tricks available to you. And I feel like I kind of know the ones that I like at this point and employ them in different configurations depending on the song. But sometimes, it’s the simplest song that winds up the most affecting — I have a really hard time tapping into [that].
For instance, “Backslidin’” on this new record — when we’re recording or mixing we tend to think of what we’re going for sonically so that we can say, “This is a reference to this Kinks song, let’s see what the snare drum sounds like,” and when we were working on [“Backslidin’”], we were like, “This is the most ‘Speedy Ortiz’ song on the record.” It’s just a simple power ballad — I’ve done songs like that a million times before. And often when I’m writing what I’m most excited about is the song with eight parts, none of which repeat, all leading somewhere different. But when you have space from it you can be like, “Oh, the one that was really simple is kind of the one that’s the most affecting.” I’m definitely always excited about whatever’s newest because I think that’s healthy for any artist.
WW: That’s probably a good sign if you’re excited about the most recent thing you did.
SD: Yeah, I couldn’t care less about old stuff! (Laughter.) But new stuff? Love it.
WW: I looked at some of your recent setlists and I noticed there are certain big jams from Major Arcana that you frequently play. Are there any songs from that period of Speedy Ortiz that still feel amazing every time you play them?
SD: I always really liked playing “Plough.” That’s my favourite from Major Arcana, and that’s one of those ones where I’m proud of how it was written, [with] sections that you wouldn’t necessarily see leading into one another. And it ends in this place that’s not what you would have expected. We hadn’t played the song “No Below” for like years, because we were just sick of it. That’s the one that people like the most. And that’s what I’m saying — that’s the simplest song I ever wrote, and that’s the one people connected to. We recently started playing that again and it’s been nice. Now I can kind of see why people like it, and it feels good to play something that’s meaningful to our fans and friends.
WW: How do you feel about banter at shows?
SD: I don’t really like to do it… and that’s why I drink on stage.
WW: (Laughter.)
SD: If I’m sober, I don’t say anything or I say something that’s just so serious, pertaining to the news or something, that no one knows what to say. And then if I have one drink I’m like Mr. Charming — which I guess is everybody.
WW: Well, that’s good, you’ve found the secret then.
SD: No, it’s bad! You don’t want to rely on a substance to be socially acceptable! (Laughter.)
WW: That’s true. I read that you quit drinking a while ago.
SD: Yeah, I didn’t drink for a long time after my dad passed away a few years ago. I was going through grief and trying to feel all of that. Now I’m back — but I don’t drink as much as when I was a kid. When the band first started — you think that every show is a party, but then you’re playing every night for 10 months in a row and that’s so hard on your body. So now, if it’s Saturday in Chicago, I’ll be like, “Yeah, turn up!” But if it’s Tuesday in Fargo, I’m having some club soda.
WW: And I guess as a last question, I was just watching your keynote address at the BIGSOUND Festival in Australia — that speech was all about concrete changes that the music scene can make to make concerts safer spaces. You’ve implemented a lot of really specific measures with Speedy Ortiz tours. What have you found to be the most effective or impactful, what do you think should be adopted more broadly?
SD: We started printing out bystander intervention and de-escalation tactics. My friend did a presentation before Sad13 [concerts] that was about how bystanders can intervene, and they gave me a printout. Then I wound up using an adapted one from this organization Hollaback!, which works to end not only street harassment, but also harassment in the workplace and at clubs and gigs. So I have a modified one-sheet [document] from their instructions. We print that out and leave it on the merch table. And sometimes people come up and look at it and don’t take one, sometimes people take one — sometimes people take one and ask me about it, and then we can have a conversation about why that’s helpful. I feel like the best thing you can do at your show is disseminate information that will make everybody a better person at the end of the day. It’s spreading the attitude [that] you should look out for one another, you should look out for your community, and all try to be better to one another.
Twerp Verse is available April 27 via Carpark Records.
Illustration by Emily Reimer