Origami Angel Embrace Their Own “Spiritual 404 Error”

With the pure bombast that’s packaged in most Origami Angel songs, it’s quite easy to forget that they’re a two-piece. After a huge bump in popularity during the pandemic, Ryland Heagy and Pat Doherty have found themselves at a crossroads of fulfillment and disillusionment: The DMV faithful’s new album, Feeling Not Found, finds Heagy at odds with both himself and the internet, calling the lyrical ethos of this record a “spiritual 404 error.” Second single “Dirty Mirror Selfie” is the most direct example of this, as Heagy retorts, “There’s silicon instead of silver linings.” The internal disillusionment that is brought upon by modern life is captured throughout; it can be incredibly hard and anger-inducing to find your place in the world as you grow older. “The record that I was trying to write, lyrically, for Feeling Not Found was ambiguous towards myself and, at times, really positive,” Heagy says. “It’s almost antithetical to the way that we’ve made records in the past. ‘Dirty Mirror Selfie’ is about coming to terms with yourself and being positive about that, but it immediately heel-turns to talk[ing] about being okay with wallowing in your own depression [during ‘Where Blue Light Blooms’ and ‘Viral’].”

While Feeling Not Found is certainly a sonic return to form after last year’s The Brightest Days mixtape, Origami Angel remain far-away from the infectious optimism of their first two records. Heagy admits that the narrative of Feeling Not Found is not as linear as that of Somewhere City, an album with a closer (“The Air Up Here”) that reprises every track that came before it. “There was a record that, lyrically, I was really trying to write with Somewhere City, with Gami Gang and with all the EPs,” he says. “I was trying to make it for myself but also make it an experience that was one you could go to as a comfort place, which I think was something that I really always liked in my mind.”

What has stayed consistent, though, is Origami Angel’s heated takedowns of industry vultures. Coming out of the DMV DIY scene, the duo have been around the block of shady business practices enough times to have an opinion on it. No matter how much they—or their friends—prevail, it’s still relatively (and disarmingly) easy to get duped by people with ulterior motives. “Something that authentically pisses me off is that sometimes we get in situations where we get fucked, our friends get fucked or a landscape changes because of something that’s happening whether it’s one of the big corps or anything like that,” Heagy explains. “I think it’s super easy for me to authentically channel that emotion when it’s something that has so much to do with our livelihoods.” This theme traces all the way back to Somewhere City’s “Say Less:” “Though I’m not the type to ever throw a fist over things like this / I’d really like the chance to speak my goddamn mind,” he sings, before the band ushers in a deluge of their signature rhythmic breakdowns.

Heagy and Doherty are more hopeful than ever about the current state of DIY emo, though—amazed by the concerted enthusiasm that came alongside the easing of COVID-19 restrictions. No longer the new kids on the scene, Origami Angel looks at the community with an older-sibling fondness. “At least locally in the DMV, it’s bigger than it’s ever been,” Heagy beams. “I would see bands come through before COVID and draw like 20 heads, and then two years after that, they’re coming in and there’s 250 people in these rooms. It’s awesome, but it’s all still local and DIY—all very community based and all this stuff.” With that positioning, however, brings its drawbacks. “When we stopped playing shows before the pandemic, we we’re playing in houses and tattoo parlors and skate parks, then we did a support tour for Mom Jeans, and now we’re in these sold out rooms. People are resonating with music, it’s amazing—but, also, I wasn’t ready for it. It’s so easy to feel out of place and out of time,” he confesses. Those doubts manifest in a song like “Wretched Trajectory,” in which Heagy laments surviving another performance: “I don’t like where this night is going / I can’t wait to get out the door / Already come get me already.”

Origami Angel are often at odds with the state of their career, especially with the complex social media landscape always at play. “There’s just a tug of war between the positive and negative aspects of blowing up,” Heagy notes. “But at the end of the day, it’s become our jobs because of that, which is a beautiful thing. It’s become a lot of people’s jobs, a lot of people are doing great stuff and making great art. But every technological advancement and every structural advancement in the music industry is going to come with drawbacks.” That attitude is summed up in the line “My safe haven is oh so close to hell,” which closes out the chorus of “Where Blue Light Blooms” and is followed by dreamy electric guitar licks and a glockenspiel doubling the guitar’s melody.

Heagy and Doherty shaped their own identity by watching bands inject DIY spaces with potent attitudes toward making music—which, for them, supersedes all sonic similarities. “There’s bands like us,” Heagy says, “but then there’s bands like glass beach, Pool Kids and Arm’s Length. I think every single one of those bands sounds nothing like each other, but you’ll see all the [band’s] shirts at the same shows. This community of like minded artists has been created because of the ethos more than because of the sound. We’re built from the same blood. It makes me more inspired when I see bands who are in a community like that.”

Both Origami Angel and glass beach put their recent albums into the hands of Will Yip (Modern Baseball, Title Fight, Turnover), who Heagy describes as a “hero in this music scene,” having looked up to the producer’s work since high school. They got connected through Heagy’s late cousin, who Yip had worked with in the past, but that didn’t make the collaboration any less surreal. “I was pretty sure Will thought we were lame,” Heagy admits. “This is a guy that I’ve been listening to stuff he’s worked on forever, but the second he comes out of the control room, it feels like I’ve known him for 15 years. He’s hooked it up for us in so many ways beyond this record. He’s a great person and a great force in the musical scene. He seeks up and coming bands and he wants to help bands break through—help bands make the record that they want to make.” For someone like Yip, who’s Grammy-nominated and remains involved in the emo scene, that was an inspiring element of Feeling Not Found.

While it may not have been something they were used to, Yip’s honest and guiding hand allowed Feeling Not Found to develop into the record it was meant to be. “Four years ago, I might’ve been so hurt with him deconstructing songs,” Heagy says. “I should just say the state that the record was in, it sounded like a crazy person wrote the demos, because it was just a mess. It was a cool mess, but it was a mess.” Having the wisdom of someone like Yip, who has worked in the music business for as long as he has, made the record-making process easier than ever for Origami Angel. Feeling Not Found came to life, and it sounds exactly like Heagy thought it would when he started writing it.