With her second album, In the Name of Blood (review), Sierra Veins loudly and proudly asserted her identity: a name change, personal themes, embracing difference... This succession of angry and melancholic EBSM/daksynth anthems stirred our hearts as much as our hips. After opening for a tour where we saw her at La Cigale in Paris (we told you about it here), the artist is embarking on a new tour that will see her travelling across France in the spring (dates are on the poster below). We took the opportunity to ask her a few questions. With the word ‘Freak’ tattooed on her arm, and the honesty and generosity that already characterise her music and concerts, she tells us about her recent developments.
The photo above and on the flyer is the work of Lily Rault.
Blood has been a recurring theme in your work lately. Is it more about life, or the desire to spill it? Why is it green on this album?
I like playing with words and the duality of things. My music is sometimes violent, so you might think it's about revenge, but it's more the genetic and identity aspects that interest me. It started with my desire to make an album about blood and an album about the color green. I wanted green blood. That then led to questions about identity: who are we? Why are we the way we are? Is it due to our education and experiences, or is it inevitably written in our DNA and our blood, like something that is passed down from generation to generation? Although I didn't really do any in-depth research while creating the album, these topics have always interested me, and I'm always keen to read an article or watch videos that I come across. I'm fascinated by the medical, psychological, and even psychiatric aspects of subjects such as cellular memory, for example, everything that stems from our biological identity and is within us despite ourselves. That was my main inspiration for writing In the Name of Blood. I love green, especially how it looks on stage. During my old live shows, I kept asking my lighting engineer to put green on stage! He wasn't necessarily happy about it, but I warned him that the next album would be completely green and that he would have no choice! What sounded like a joke at first turned out to be a real decision. I wanted to go all out with this color, from the vinyl to the stage. Plus, I think it goes well with the idea of blood and genetics.
Speaking of identity, does your music help you assert yourself in this quest for self-discovery? Do you ever surprise yourself, either live or during your writing and composing process?
Music really helps me assert myself. It's one of many ways I can search for who I am, find out what I want to do, discover my limits... I've grown a lot in recent years, both personally and musically, as if these paths were running parallel and connected.
Of course, I sometimes surprise myself! You can't predict what's going to happen on stage, for example! No matter how much you plan and prepare for a date, something always happens in the moment that is beyond our control, whether it's fatigue, our state of mind... whether positive or negative. Sometimes I go into another dimension, with all that unique adrenaline rush you get when you're on stage, and I catch myself doing things I never thought I'd do! Afterwards, I think to myself, “Wait, why did I do that?!” Sometimes it's cool, but sometimes I go too far and think I shouldn't have done that! And no, I won't give any examples! Sometimes it's the feeling I get from a song that surprises me, a feeling I didn't expect to feel. That's the magic of live performance.
It happens all the time when I'm writing too. Even though I have a few synthesizers, I still work much more with my computer and headphones when I'm in inspiration mode, which means I'm really in my own bubble. That way, I can easily get lost in my thoughts. I'm always there when I'm composing, and sometimes I come up with things without understanding why. I'm surprised by the notes or phrases I write, and sometimes I drift off completely, wondering where they came from, but without ever finding the answer. I feel like the most interesting ideas I've continued to explore are precisely those that came out of nowhere. The funny thing is that when I'm immersed in my own world, I'm often brought back to reality by an outside noise, like a car passing by or a door slamming... and that noise creates a note that gives me ideas! That's the magic of the creative moment.
There are fewer guests on your new album, as if you wanted to be the only one in charge this time! Is there a connection with this assertiveness?
Honestly, I didn't think about it that way! It wasn't a deliberate choice at first. On the first album, everything happened naturally. For example, with Carpenter Brut, we had just come back from a 45-date tour together, and he was the first person I played my demos to while I was writing them, and who gave me feedback. We naturally came up with the idea of collaborating. For Health, I had just composed Hatefull, so we said let's do an exchange... it was a logical progression each time. On this new album, there were supposed to be other collaborations, to be honest, but it didn't happen for various reasons. I'm still really happy to have a collaboration with Ghost Dance because I really like his sensibility and his work, even though it's more techno-oriented. We hit it off really well as friends, which made everything so much easier and more enjoyable, so I'm delighted.
You also seemed more confident on stage at La Cigale. Was that because you worked hard to be in tune with the theme of your album, or was it more a matter of habit?
It happened naturally over the months as I was creating the album. It's really when I'm developing concepts or writing things that I feel like I'm evolving myself. Albums are a bit like my guinea pigs for exploring things I want to explore in my personal life. This quest for self-affirmation is something I've been working on for years and years. With this latest album and tour, I now feel the need to reach out to people more. I used to do that on one or two tracks, but I was quickly caught up in having to trigger things on my machines, etc. So I thought more about the live aspect when composing In The Name Of Blood. The writing had to allow me to open up more to people, just like the installation of the machines, which are also more open to the audience. Going at it head-on makes me feel more and more comfortable, even if it's not an easy exercise.
La Cigale was only the second or third date of the tour, but I feel a thousand times more comfortable now. In any case, if you came to see me now, it would be completely different, and my goal is to go even further each time! I remember feeling much better once the concert was over. There was a kind of release when I said goodbye to everyone. I was very happy at the end, but the build-up was a bit complicated. The year had been so physically demanding, between writing the album and preparing for the tour... I didn't feel ready, you never feel ready before you start a tour. Plus, I never feel very comfortable in Paris, there are too many people I know and I can feel their eyes on me! I was very stressed before I started, but luckily that quickly disappeared once I was on stage, it's always like that. At first, I had a few rituals before going on stage, but I stopped because I don't want to feel dependent on them. However, before each show, I need fifteen minutes of calm and solitude in my dressing room. It's essential for me to be able to breathe and reconnect with myself. In any case, I will always remember what I felt when the lights came back on and I saw all those people. It was truly amazing.
You've always worked on visuals, but your current stage design is incredible. How did you come up with it?
It comes from ideas I'd had in my head for a while. I love digital art, which I find fascinating, and I was following a lot of studios that were developing this kind of thing. I made quite a few mood boards while writing my album about blood. At the same time, I decided to adopt the name Sierra Veins. I wanted to change the neon lights from the previous tour, and that's when I came up with the idea of using cables to tie everything together. I sent my mood boards and desired directions to my producer, who found Maxime Rocher (Enjoy Light), who was interested in the idea and developed the stage design. If I could afford it, I would go even further, in everything I do for that matter, but you have to take it step by step, with the means at your disposal. I always think about the visuals before I even start composing; that's the basis for me. For example, I knew before anything else that I wanted a drawn album, that I wanted to focus on blood, cables, etc. It's either the visuals, the titles, or the words that inspire me and sometimes get me stuck. That's where it all starts. I don't know what my next release format will be, but I already know the artistic direction it will take, the type of visuals I want, I have colors in mind, lists of words... Obviously, I'm not going to say anything!
Your drawings have a visceral and super spontaneous feel to them. Did you feel the need to move towards something more organic by distancing yourself a little from machines?
The goal is to make spontaneous drawings. I don't want to spend time on them. After a year of composition and preparation, during which I made a lot of music, I wanted to do something else, even though it was great. I needed to reconnect with another form of creativity. I used to draw before I made music, and for a long time, that was what I really wanted to do with my life. I stopped for many reasons, maybe because I didn't necessarily have the talent, or at least I didn't develop it. Drawing remained a real pleasure, even though I didn't have time for it once I got seriously involved in music. I needed to get back to it, and I don't want it to be too polished. They're rough sketches, the perspectives aren't great, but I like that raw aspect. It's also a way of communicating something else, things I wouldn't say otherwise.
Would you like to find that spontaneity in your music sometimes?
I'd love to. The album format is great, it's like a feature film, but it takes time and money... it's good, but a it's a lot when you just want to release things in terms of creativity. I have ideas in my head all the time, all day long, and there are times when I'd like to be much more spontaneous. It's easy to forget that the essence of the job is to make music, and you can get overwhelmed when you embark on long projects that involve setting up platforms, creating vinyl records, promoting... It takes time, whereas an album has a limited lifespan because of our very fast consumption patterns. There's a frustrating side to that. There's also a kind of pressure that goes with this object, which becomes a bit like your calling card for two years with programmers, people... it has to be up to scratch. I'll never stop making albums, I like it, but why not develop more spontaneous things on the side? I like to develop lots of ugly sounds, but quickly! I do it every day: I have a recycling bin on my computer, I have hundreds of them! Seeing my ideas through to completion gives me less pleasure than seeing them come to life spontaneously.
Aren't you afraid of “growing up” too much and losing yourself a little amid all the demands you mentioned earlier? Staying “human-sized” if you can make a living from it also means being sure you can keep control of your work and be sure you can keep your soul too.
Yes, it depends on a lot of factors, and on the people around you. It depends on the record label you work with, the tour organizers who put you on tour or not... There are tour organizers who ask artists to tour all year round, for example, without any studio time. For me personally, the dynamic is very different now than it was a few years ago, that's for sure. At the same time, a few years ago I wasn't making a living from music. I think that's kind of the price you have to pay. These are questions I asked myself at one point. I finished my album in July, it was mixed in July, pressed in August, and released in November... During that whole time, I worked on promotion, prepared for the tour, and then I went on tour... That brings us to January, when I was lucky enough to be able to take a little vacation, but by February I still hadn't had time to open my computer to compose. It's easy to fall into such circles, even though I'm free to do what I want, no one is forcing me to make albums or go on tour, and the people around me are very supportive... but that's part of the game, it's how I earn my living. There are also musicians who are very good at composing in a van while on tour! I can't do it. It's up to each artist to find their limits, their balance, and above all, their desires. If I had to choose, I'd prefer to stay where I am for the rest of my life, even though I always dream of more because I'm quite ambitious, but I prefer to stay true to myself while still having time to see my family and loved ones... I'm saying that now, but if tomorrow I had the opportunity to spend three years on a bus, I'd go for it! It's up to each person to find their limits.
Your drawings and music are quite dark. What attracts you to darkness?
I can't help it, I'm really drawn to it! I've always loved dark aesthetics. Even when I was a child, whether it was cartoons or other things, my favorites were always the ones in black! When we talked about what's inside us that we can't control, that's it. I'm not really sure why it's there. Yet in everyday life, I'm not a dark person at all, quite the opposite! Even though there's inevitably a slightly dark side to me, it's more the opposite in everyday life. I think it helps me maintain a balance! Sometimes what's normal for me seems dark to others, it's true. I realize this when talking to some friends who aren't at all involved in those circles. To them, I'm definitely a bit of an outsider!
Your first album was about anger, this one is about identity. Does creating also allow you to get revenge on life?
Of course! There are people who have been through tough times and turn them into something positive, I think that's great! It's really powerful. I'm often drawn to all those things. I love using all my difficulties to compose, to let go, and to turn them into strength. Everything that people have pointed out as my flaws throughout my life have actually turned out to be my greatest qualities and strengths! Hence the theme of the album, self-affirmation, as if to say: I fully accept this part of myself now, even if it's a little weird or marginal at times and doesn't fit in with the social codes that people have tried to impose on me for a very long time. I don't fit into those codes, and that's a great pleasure!
Questions of identity inevitably lead to the notion of difference, or even marginality. What is a “monster” to you? Is it the same thing as a freak?
I find the term “monster” really pejorative, but the two are linked because for some people, freaks are monsters. “Freak” is really that marginal aspect that I wanted to highlight. All the norms that people have always tried to instill in me have never fit with who I am. I've never fit into those boxes. For a long time, it was a burden to feel out of place with absolutely everything that people tried to impose on me. I've always felt a bit marginalized. For me, freaks are all those who are pointed at because they're different, those who don't fit into boxes for many reasons, and there are many degrees and reasons for being a freak in the eyes of others ! I want to challenge that concept and take a stand by saying that, on the contrary, differences are a strength. Being different is so awesome! It's a bit easy to say, but we really need to make a strength out of it, no matter what we're talking about: disability, skin color, sexual orientation... anything that makes us not fit into the norm. We have to say who we are, and that's even more important right now, when society is trying to silence people, to restrict them. I don't know where we're headed... so I want to shout loud and clear, let's go, let's embrace it! Some people who listen to my music inevitably identify with all this. It creates a very strong bond and solidarity between all the people who are affected by these issues. I've received quite a few messages from transgender people telling me that the song Who I Used To Be made them feel good, for example. The fact that my music can touch people who are going through intense moments of identity transition and want to assert who they are particularly touches me.
