By the time an album actually arrives in the world, its creator has usually had enough of it. There are months, sometimes years, between writing the first song and seeing the record land in someone else’s headphones. In that time, the songs change, you change, and eventually the thing you once spent hours obsessing over becomes something you have to let go of.
For Sofie Royer, that feeling sits right at the heart of Before/After. The album’s title began life as a meme saved on her phone before gradually taking on a much more existential meaning. It’s about the moments that divide our lives and the strange fact that even when we’re trying to exist in the present, we’re usually looking backwards or forwards.
But talking to Royer about the record quickly makes it clear that Before/After isn’t just about time. It’s also about how she makes things. Classically trained but resistant to being boxed in as a “singer,” she oscillates between music, film, and visual art with equal wonderment. Her music videos are often made with friends and whatever resources are available, while her vocals are frequently first takes because, as she put it, “the essence disappears” when she tries to improve them.
We spoke about making music before letting it go, growing up watching MTV, the films hiding inside their videos, and why sometimes the best thing you can do with a song is stop fiddling with it and write another one.
Let’s talk Before/After. Firstly, how are you feeling about releasing the new record?
There’s always such a buffer period between making music and releasing it. By the time September comes around, especially after playing the songs live, I think it’ll feel really exciting. By the time people hear the music, you’re often a completely different person from when you first wrote it. That’s just the nature of putting out art that takes a long time to make.
The title feels particularly fitting given what you’ve just said. Where did Before/After come from?
It actually started with a meme I’d saved on my phone and used as a placeholder title. When it came time to name the record, changing it almost felt wrong. I also kept thinking about how we define our lives through “before” and “after” moments. The present is always understood through what just happened or what’s about to happen. Even when you’re trying to be present, you’re usually thinking about the past or anticipating the future. I found that idea really interesting.
Do you ever stop writing, or are you constantly working on new music? And where do your ideas usually come from?
There’s never really a pause. I’m always writing. Then it becomes a case of narrowing down which songs belong on the next record. I tend to release an album every two years, so eventually there’s enough material to decide what feels right. Sometimes it’s just one interesting word or phrase that lets you build an entire song around it. Certain words immediately spark something. I wrote ‘Sesquicentennial’ on my phone during shows in Texas last year after seeing the word ‘Sesquicentennial’ on a truck’s bumper sticker. A week later, I was at Jorge Nodegard’s studio in LA.
You trained classically. How does that still influence your music?
It’s just built into the way I understand music. Some of my band members are jazz musicians, and the way they improvise is completely different from how I do. My musical scaffolding comes from classical training. Even if I’m drawing inspiration from lots of different genres, if you listen closely to the structures or melodies, you’ll probably hear classical references, whether they’re intentional or not.
You’re often described through your voice, but do you think that can obscure the fact that you’re making music in a much broader sense?
Definitely. I just don’t consider myself a singer in the traditional sense. There are incredible vocalists out there; that’s not really how I think about myself. I’m making music first, and my voice is simply one way of expressing it.
What’s your favorite way for people to experience your music?
Honestly, music videos. I don’t have the budget to make one for every song, but I love creating them because they can capture the mood of a track in a completely different way. I grew up obsessively watching MTV, so that medium has always been really important to me.
Your videos have a distinctive DIY feel. Is that done purposely?
I mostly work with friends. I’ve collaborated with Grégoire Léon Dufour on several videos now. The DIY aesthetic is honestly born out of necessity, as we don’t have huge budgets. But I like it. There’s something immediate about just picking up a camera and making something. At the same time, I’m not a purist. If someone handed me a bigger budget, I’d happily make something more elaborate too.
Film seems like a huge influence on your work.
Definitely. There are shot-for-shot references to films throughout my videos: The Dreamers, Mystery Train, Lost in Translation, Cronenberg, and Fellini. I studied painting, I studied film in school, and for a long time I genuinely thought I’d become a cinematographer. I think if you make art, you’re naturally interested in lots of different art forms.
How do you feel about perfectionism?
I’m probably less precious than people imagine. A lot of the vocals you hear are actually first takes because whenever I’ve tried to improve them afterwards, something gets lost. The essence disappears. I like things that still have some heart in them. I don’t enjoy music that’s been polished to death. That said, I also think people romanticize the past. Bands absolutely spent ages producing records back then too. The technology was slower, but artists like Electric Light Orchestra, 10cc, or Todd Rundgren were incredibly meticulous. The difference now is that digital production can sometimes lose warmth and tangibility. It’s a much more complicated conversation than people make it out to be.
I really can’t endlessly tweak things. Some people spend years revisiting the same song, but I’ve never understood that. To me, a song isn’t going to become better just because I keep adding things. It’s just a song; you can always write another one.
Looking 150 years into the future, what do you hope for?
I’m going to be stupidly optimistic and hope for world peace.
