I always looked at any instrument as just a tool, an expressive voice to write with. It even differs from guitar to guitar. Some guitars demand that you play them delicately and really respect the instrument, and some beg to be abused. Same with piano. I know with guitar, I'm intimate with it enough to know when I put my fingers here, it will sound like this. I prefer writing on piano because it's always a surprise.
A lot of the songs have a duality about them; one part is totally sincere, and there's another part that is kind of smirking and making light of it all. Or there's a very dark streak about it.
I like the material, which makes it easy to sort of delve into it, and then also I was too tired to be nervous. I was just happy. The anxiety, the anxious energy was not there, because I was too exhausted.
I love the idea that something would be whimsical, and like "delightful", you know, but also disgusting — so I like this sort of, you know, a really gnarly guitar — really gross, disgusting guitar and then a — really a whimsical... — it's one of those things you can only describe in sort of awkward hand gestures and eye motions. Imagine!
Leaden trumpets spit the soot of power they say Come sit right here and sleep while I slip poison in your ear"
We are waiting on a telegram to give us news of the fall We are dancing a black waltz — fair Paris is burning after all.
Sticks and stones have made me smarter it's words that cut me under my armor they say...
What me worry? I never do I'm always amused and amusing you
What me worry? I never do. I'm out of here"
The first thing I did when I picked up any instrument, when I was five years old, was write a song. It's kind of funny; I thought about it, statements that it's a "solo effort" — it's kind of like, "Oh, well I've been doing this since I was five." I was kind of doing this before I did anything else.
I enjoyed, and I tried to soak up and learn everything as fast as I could from doing any kind of music. It's good to have a gig. If you're a musician, it's good to be working. I love doing all of it, but Marry Me is my baby, St. Vincent is my child.
In a really great way, you simultaneously try to take up as little and as much space as possible.
Some songs I wrote that night, and some songs took nine months to arrange, get how I positioned them. Some songs I wrote parts of when I was twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen… Just putting it together, just finding the right place for it. So it's really been a long time coming. ... I'm actually really restless, in the sense that I'd rather be always making something new. I'm really excited about making a second record. I've got a lot of things up my sleeve, I guess.
I certainly owe a lot of awesomeness to blogs, to people who have been blogging about a show, or blogging about a single, or blogging about something. It's just amazing to me that it seems to be a nice equalizer. People don't necessarily need the clout of a big "record company machine" to put their face on a billboard. It seems more organic and honest in a lot of ways, for fans of music to be critics I suppose.
I'm a debut artist, I'm not established — nobody would write about it if they didn't like it. So I'm waiting for the next album for the backlash.
Here's an awesome tour story: I was playing these two shows last fall in Europe, we played at Reykjavík, and the three or four days we were in Reykjavík happened to be the one and only Sugarcubes reunion show… So it was like, tour of a lifetime.
I'm not your mother's favorite dog I'm not any any any anything at all.
Now, now ... You don't mean that ... I'll make you sorry
I'm not the pawn to your king I'm not anything
While Jesus is saving, I'm spending all my days I'm inside a still life with the other absentee.
While people will cheer on the spectacle we've made I'm sitting and sculpting menageries of saints.
Come, my love, the stage is waiting, Be the one to save my saving grace.
While Jesus is saving, I'm spending all my grace, through storms of red roses we've exited the stage
Your lips are red My face is red from reading your red lips
Your skin's so fair its not fair
Marry me, John, I'll be so good to you — You won't realize I'm gone.
Many people wanna make money, make love, I hope your open sign is blinking still.
As for me I would have to agree, I'll be in someone elses arms
I read the signs, Who won't be forgotten.
I do a dance to make the rain come, You know it's real.
There are no signs, Love is the answer.
It's time. Time and Light.
All your praying moments amount to just one breath. But give me little death.
I'm crawling through landmines Just to know where you are.
Romeo, where'd you go? They always want more — they want more.
Tell the truth now What's the deal?
Little lamb, what's your plan? For what it's worth you're not the first to break my heart.
Lover, I don’t play to win but for the thrill until I’m spent. Paint the black hole blacker. Paint the black hole blacker
What do I share? Who sleep where I sleep?
Good souls have born better sons, Paint the black hole blacker...
The keys are in my pocket and they rattle you awake.
I'm a wife in watercolors I can wash away what seventeen cold showers couldn't wash away.
Honey what reveals you is what you hide away.
Let's pour wine in coffee cups and drive around the neighborhood And shine the headlights on houses until all the news is good.
Tomorrow's some kind of Strangerland where all the news is good.
What would the neighbors think? Oh no! If they only knew.
Tomorrow's some kind of Stranger I'm not supposed to see.
I think I love you I think I'm mad.
The unkissed girls and boys of paradise While their neighbors talk and talk.
Just like an amnesiac, trying to get my senses back. Oh where did they go.
I traded my plot of land for a plane to anywhere And all my old haunts are now haunting me.
I wish I had a gentle mind and a spine made up of iron.
Honey can you reach the spots that need oiling and fixing. H E L P Help Me.
If you want we could go somewhere else.
We're sleeping underneath the bed to scare With our dear daddy's Smith and Wesson. We've got to teach them all a lesson.
Honey the party went away quickly, but thats the trouble with ticking and talking.
Oh but I'd pay anything to keep my conscience clean. I'm keeping my eyes on the the exit sign. Steady now.
I'm just the same but brand new And anything you wrote I checked for codes and clues.
Bodies like wrecking balls fuck, fuck with dynamite.
You can hear one note of a Kate Bush song, or one note of her voice even, and know immediately what it is. And that is the biggest feat of any artist, especially when you consider, you know, all the roads that she's gone down.
I read an interview with her one time, where she was asked, something along the lines of "Why do you write from the perspective of a lot of characters?" And she said very simply and eloquently "because they're more interesting than I am."
I still remember going to the CD store and buying The Sensual World when I was 16, and the cover — there was a rose in front of her mouth, that has bloomed, she's got big wide eyes, and I remember, you know, putting it on the shitty car stereo on the way home, you know — and my life was forever changed.
You don’t ever get the sense that she's making music to pander to anyone. I think you always get her absolute best attempt at her true vision whenever you get a Kate Bush record.