Posts Tagged ‘Midnight Room’

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Springtime Carnivore’s title track from her latest record “Midnight Room” is a slice of subtly enticing, dark pop where worlds are constructed around partners and suns slowly burn out.

Springtime Carnivore’s dropped a video for the title tune, and it’s its own bit of mystery. Animator Kevin Andrews brings the world of a “midnight room” to life with disco balls floating in the sky, faded night shots of the Vegas strip and a TV set flickering “love” in a flooded living room. Throughout the song, Greta Morgan waveringly croons about never stopping her dreams, and in the video, she never actually visits the waking world.

Morgan says of the video:

I usually make a record imagining that it could be the soundtrack to a specific place, whether imagined or real. “Midnight Room” has a starry and surrealist landscape, and Kevin helped create that world visually. Whether it’s a hotel room where the floor is actually made of water, or a classic American car parked on a look-out point on the moon, his creativity brought the song to life in a new way for me. I fell in love with Kevin’s animation the first time I saw it. Springtime Carnivore’s Midnight Room is out now via Bandcamp

Springtime Carnivore - Midnight Room

Greta Morgan is asking a lot of questions on Springtime Carnivore’s sophomore album Midnight Room: “Calling to the dark, is anybody out there?” she ponders on “Face In The Moon.” “Can I ever, ever let you in? Can I ever let you close to me?” she asks on “Raised By Wolves.” Morgan reveals that this web of curiosity spun from a splintering breakup: “I feel like I was asking a lot of questions during the making of the record that I still don’t really have answers to, but at least some of the songs were exploring that territory.”

She does so via a brew of spectral vocals, shadowy piano riffs, wind chimes, wildflowers, and cattails. “Double Infinity” distinctly bears the influence of Beach House/Future Islands producer Chris Coady, which Morgan seems to draw from vocally. “Under The Spell” is a dismally pleasant track that mixes funk inflections with ’80s synth-pop to speak of love’s bewitching cliché: “All the black roses that grow in your heart/ I keep them like a calling card.” The album feels like an hour’s worth of lucid dreaming with images of crushed flowers and shimmering sea glass.

Morgan further explains her mystical vision for Midnight Room: “I wanted the whole thing to feel like you’re looking through a cobalt blue glass, and to get textures that almost feel like being able to see stars in the sky. I wanted it to have this very velvety midnight blue purity to the sound, and I feel like the synthesizers that we used and a lot of the guitar tones we used evoked that kind of visual texture.” The result of her efforts is a dignified and mystically verbose articulation of failed love.

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“Midnight Room”
When Chris Coady and I were nearing the end of our studio time, we tried to sequence the 10 songs we’d recorded and realized that none made sense as an opening track. He told me to go home that night and write the opener. I stayed up very late writing in my bedroom, which is decorated with various shades of midnight and baby blue, so the bridge lyrics, “I see you now/blue on blue/my illusion,” was a direct result of looking around the room while singing. A “Midnight Room” is the metaphorical place that the whole record came from—it represents the feeling of waking up alone in the middle of the night and hearing nothing but your own thoughts. 

“Face in the Moon”
I wrote this song in a 15-minute flash after a week of sleepless nights watching space conspiracy documentaries and listening to Bruce Springsteen’s Nebraska and REM’s Murmur. I’ve had recurring dreams about a man who would sleep on a lawn chair outside my house and wake up with comets stuck to his clothes, so the lyric “You’re standing there brushing the comets out of your hair” was a direct result of that. 

“Into The Avalanche”
To me, it’s a statement for how I want to be treated by someone I love: “Don’t control me/ Don’t try to own me/ Don’t keep score/ And I’ll be waiting every night at your door.” It’s about the freedom required within devotion and also about the willingness to step into a stage of uncertainty with another person. 

“Double Infinity”
This song was a direct result of my “poem party” method of songwriting: I write phrases on index cards, cut them up, and then lay them on the floor in a random order. (I usually call this a “poem party” because it feels sort of ceremonial and I often drink some tequila or red wine while doing so.) I start to see patterns and pick out phrases that make sense together. From a production standpoint, this feels the most like a Chris Coady production to me… It makes the most sense sonically in a continuum of his work with Beach House and Future Islands. 

“Raised By Wolves”
This song changed the most from demo to final version. The demo was more of a loose rock and roll tune, but Chris suggested we do a total rearrangement and make it feel mechanical and drum-machine heavy.  He also really pushed for that guitar lead sound, which felt to me like a toy shop exploding and all the toys starting to chime at once. I was a little timid about the direction at first, but it came to be one of my favorite recordings we did together. Playing this one with the live band feels especially great because we blend the feel of the original demo version and the final album version. 

“Nude Polaroids”
This is the most personal song on the record. I narrate it directly to the person it’s about: “You can keep the polaroids where I am posing nude/ Even though I’m leavin’/ I’ll always trust you.” It feels to me like a letter I would write that feels too personal to actually mail. 

“Under the Spell”
I’ve had a series of recurring dreams where members of Fleetwood Mac whisper unreleased songs into my ear. Usually, I just wake up with a vague idea or one lyric of the song as a residual from the dream, but this was a Stevie song that I woke up from and remembered the entire chorus. Chris and I used a Linn drum and Eurorack synth bass to build this one from the ground up. (Sidenote: There is another song that Christine McVie whispered to me years ago that I’ve never finished… Maybe for the next Springtime Carnivore record?) 

“Wires Crossing”
I wrote this song after night of recording with Katy Goodman for our “Take It, It’s Yours” record last fall. The biggest takeaway from recording a covers record of punk covers was my sense of awe about the simplicity of those tunes. We had just tracked Gun Club’s “Sex Beat,” which has the same chords the entire way through and I wanted to write a song that did the same thing and accompany it with simple, clear lyrics. Ta-da: “Wires Crossing” was born. 

“Bad Dream Baby”
This is the only co-write on the record, and I wrote it with my friend Tommy English. Tommy and I had spent eight hours slogging away on an idea that wasn’t working, and when he left the room to grab a cup of coffee, I started goofing around on the piano and humming the lyric, “Don’t even say you’re turning around again…” He walked back in the room and heard what I was playing, and we finished this song entirely in less than 20 minutes. 

“Rough Magic”
One of the opening lyrics of the song is, “Every time I said your name/a field of roses blew up,” which came to me because I had been taking a meditation class last fall that used creative visualization as a way of clearing energy. One thing they do is create symbols with which you gather emotion and energy, then visualize destroying them. A rose is a very pure symbol that was used often in the class, so this lyric to me was about the creation and destruction of emotional energy. 

 

Image of MIDNIGHT ROOM LP - PRE-ORDER

Greta Morgan knows about heartache. Having achieved some distance from the breakup that fueled her second album as Springtime Carnivore, the Los Angeles-based musician can smile at how far she’s come. Navigating the treacherous terrain of an unspooling relationship is no easy feat, but Morgan’s focus on music, poetry, and visual art helped keep her grounded during an emotionally turbulent time.

“It’s like being divorced,” she says, taking a sip of her almond milk latte. “We lived together for a long time. I find that a lot of emotions of the heart wind up coming out in music. This record is basically a 100% emotional reaction to that experience.”

Midnight Room is, indeed, a breakup album, albeit it one dusted with a bit of sugar. Across 10 tracks of spiky guitar pop, Morgan sings about the kind of topics Dusty Springfield built a career on—love, lost love, and how to achieve personal autonomy in the face of both. It’s a song cycle about a universal experience that’s littered with personal details, Morgan navigating sleepless nights, wistful recollections, and relishing the small moments of triumph that come with moving on. In the end, Midnight Room is a victory lap—even if that victory was hard won.

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Midnight Room LP will ship to arrive on or before October 7th release date.

1. Midnight Room
2. Face in the Moon
3. Into the Avalanche
4. Double Infinity
5. Raised By Wolves
6. Nude Polaroids
7. Under the Spell
8. Wires Crossing
9. Bad Dream Baby
10. Rough Dream

250 PRE ORDERS Will come with a set of 4 MIDNIGHT ROOM postcards.