Happiness, Fulfilment And Getting Hugged By Strangers

Waxahatchee

Sipping on some coffee, Waxahatchee’s Katie Crutchfield reflects on what inspired her to start writing at the age of 14. “It was at the point in my life when I was starting to develop strong interests on my own,” she explains, crediting Jenny Lewis’ earnest songwriting on the album, The Execution Of All Things, as encouraging her to be sincere with her own music. “That record was the turning point for me.”

Twelve years later, Crutchfield is still writing about her experiences. “I spent so much time having people not pay attention that I feel comfortable now that people actually are.” However, this doesn’t mean everyone else always understands where she is coming from. “Some interviewers are confused when I’m more upbeat in person. They’ll say something like, ‘We’re sitting here talking about your super-sad record, but you seem completely fine.’ It ends up being more funny than anything else, but it’s something I have to experience a lot.” 

"They’ll say something like, ‘We’re sitting here talking about your super-sad record, but you seem completely fine.’ "

She often finds herself having to navigate this lack of awareness surrounding artists who write from honest and vulnerable perspectives. “My family don’t worry about me, because they know that I’m fine and this is the way that I like to write music. Writing is how I figure out how I feel about things a lot of the time. Now that it’s on a grander scale, it’s getting harder to be honest.” 

The increased exposure has challenged her relationship with crowds. “I had a guy come up to me after a show in Boston, and he looked at me and said, ‘Are you okay?’ I replied that I was fine, but he insisted, saying ‘I don’t think you’re ok,’ and tried to give me a hug. I told him that he couldn’t and walked off, but it was a really strange experience.”

This type of emotional contrast drives the themes behind Crutchfield’s new album, Ivy Tripp. “I’ve always been really interested in the juxtaposition of music and lyrics,” she says, referencing The Dirt, off her new album. “I was definitely playing with it on that song. It’s kind of a throwback to the writing in my early bands, when I would take super poppy rock songs and turn them into self-effacing laments.”

On the album, she takes on the role of observer more so than before, addressing opposites while maintaining her distance. “The song Poison is about people wandering without direction, trying to seek happiness and meaning, oftentimes in unconventional ways. Some people seek that in a life trajectory of routine and security, doing the same thing every day, getting married and having kids. I was thinking about that idea, or the juxtaposition of those two paths, and how neither of them necessarily end in happiness or fulfilment. There’s an arrogance from people who choose the latter, thinking they are too evolved to take the line of their parents. It’s interesting that people stick so staunchly to one route. I guess I’m not really making a comment on how I feel about that, either way.”