Following the Light of Sour Widows
We caught up with the California trio about their anguishing yet optimistic debut album, Revival of a Friend.
Photo by Jaxon Whittington
When I think of Sour Widows, an image of an intricately tangled web of vines nestled in a misty wood comes up. Yet this tangle of vines is dotted with the most alluring exotic flowers you’ve ever witnessed. That dark yet beautiful imagery really captures the ethos of the Bay Area slowcore trio. Dual-band founders/singers/guitarists Maia Sinaiko and Susanna Thomson have endured enough tragedies in their existence as a band for multiple lifetimes. Sinaiko lost a partner to an accidental overdose just before the band began, and Thomson lost her mother to a rare cancer three years ago. The project became an outlet for them to memorialize those feelings and work their way through them. Their debut album Revival of a Friend gives you a peek into that deep forest of anguish and optimism while showcasing the trio’s commitment to challenging themselves musically as a band.
That same forest I pictured the first time I listened to the group is uncannily depicted on the album artwork. Sour Widows thrive in a world of curious musicality. Still, they derived much of the inspiration for this album’s atmosphere from painter Benjamin Steyer, who made the album artwork for Revival of a Friend and inspired the title. Walking you through their winding wood of fantasy and mythology, Sour Widows croon about lost loves and the agony of existence. The album’s mysticism is a complicated web of synth-laden production, dynamic drumming from Max Edelman and layered guitar harmonies from the dual ax-wielding vocalists Sinaiko and Thomson. Revival of a Friend is a transcendental epic that proves the light will always prevail.
Paste Magazine: Talk to me about the writing and recording process for the debut. I know that there were delays dealing with COVID-19 and personal circumstances, so it took a little longer than you anticipated to get the record out.
Susanna Thomson: We very carefully planned out the recording process. We did a lot of tempo mapping—we decided to multitrack the songs on the record since many were pretty complicated. We had a specific vision of wanting to represent all the parts of the songs clearly. We discovered in preparing to record the record that the natural feel of many of our songs have pretty drastic tempo changes. Maia and I spent a lot of time in Pro Tools mapping out where there should be a BPM increase or decrease. That was something new that we hadn’t really tried doing before. Each time we go into the studio, we like to try something different to see how it works for us and just get more experienced with recording in general.
Maia Sinaiko: All of that creative work was really fun, but the actual legwork of sitting down and demoing everything tempo mapping was pretty excruciating, to be honest with you.
What were some of the most significant differences in the process this time? I know that Crossing Over was mostly self-produced with some help from Cody Hamilton, but for Revival of a Friend, you worked with La Luz’s Maryam Qudus.
Sinaiko: We didn’t record the last EP in a studio. It was all done from various home setups, so it was really stripped down. The sound of this album is very different—it’s a lot bigger. We wanted to maximize the experience of getting into a studio and having that resource.
Outside of working through your personal strive and grief, which you have discussed before, what were some of the main influences for the album thematically?
Thomson: We had a lot of visual influences for the record—especially Ben Steyer, a painter we all love. We licensed the use of his painting “Revival of a Friend” for the album artwork, which is also where we got the title. He builds fantasy scenes and worlds in his work with recurring themes. We all really connect to the way that there’s this interplay between darkness, creepiness and heaviness, but the works are also very magical, playful and vibrant. I feel like death is represented a lot in his work, but there’s also a mischievous nature. That whole emotional landscape resonates with me a lot, and I think about how this collection of songs sounds together and like what they represent. We sing a lot about death and grief, but there’s also a strong will to live in our music.
What is it like having those really vulnerable moments in your life entombed in these songs?
Thomson: In the moment, it’s various versions of processing an experience and wanting to preserve something outside of yourself to both enshrine and release it. The relationship that you form with the song changes over time. Often, it’s not until someone specifically asks me about a song I wrote a few years ago that I measure the distance between where I am now and where I was when I wrote the song.
Sinaiko: It’s cool to have a memorial or record of how something was around the time it happened. It’s also an interesting experience to perform older music that speaks to something that happened a while ago or where you felt really differently. It’s like keeping a diary or something, but there’s more power in sharing it.
With getting to work in a studio this time, were there certain musical choices, production techniques or just generally new things you got to play around with on Revival of a Friend you hadn’t had the chance to before?
Sinaiko: Definitely adding synth. We didn’t write or play the synth parts, but we had been interested in trying that, and Maryam threw synths on a few songs. That was an exciting way of expanding our ideas about what our music would sound like. We went in with a clear vision, and we were able to achieve that, but now we have new ideas we want to try.
You all talked about being inspired by visuals for the music, but you also express yourselves creatively in your music videos, like the horror-influenced one for “Cherish.” Could you tell me more about seeing those visions come to life?
Sinaiko: We worked with some talented and very generous people who were willing to go for it on basically no budget. Cherish was definitely inspired by Ari Aster. We had long conversations about it while preparing to shoot that video of what we wanted it to look and feel like. A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night was also a significant influence for that video. The “Staring Into Heaven/Shining” video is influenced by music videos from the 80s and 90s. We definitely have some really strong visual ideas for that stuff.
Thomson: I think all three of us feel very inspired by Lord of the Rings as well.
Since this is your debut, were there any challenges you faced, especially with being so particular about how the album would sound?
Sinaiko: “Shadow of a Dove” was really, really hard to record.
What made it so difficult to record?
Max Edelman: I had stress dreams about the song. Honestly, I remember coming home from rehearsals and being like, “I hate this.” This is like torture. The way Susanna wrote it was like a labyrinth—like walking into trapdoors. When you have a song like that, the structure is so bizarre. As the drummer, I feel I have to make the song move forward so people can connect with it. But it’s such a mysterious treasure map that I imply things to create other little creatures that also reside in that labyrinth. That’s why it was so hard: You can’t just be a basic drum guy just being like, ‘Right on, man.’ I felt I had a lot of responsibility to make it what it should be.
Obviously, it sounds like “Shadow of a Dove” was the most challenging song as a whole, but were there any other parts of other songs that were beasts in that way as well?
Sinaiko: Tempoing out “Cherish” was pretty challenging because it felt like every part wanted to be slightly faster or slightly slower—a lot of our songs are like that, but “Cherish” specifically, it took a long time for us to settle on what tempos we wanted. Because that’s also a very wandering, meandering type of song structure where every part is different, that was another one that took some time to work out.
Edelman: Yeah, that was a mysterious one, too. There’s this one interlude-bridge thing before we really get into that super heavy, shoegaze stuff in that song—it was like a leprechaun. You’re just like, ‘What you do, dude?’ I tried so many different things to try to make it work. And we ended up choosing what you guys called “the clock beat,” which was cool because it was this bizarre time in the song.
Thomson: It was like Fiona Apple, or something. It raises your blood pressure when it does kick up a few BPM. Then there’s a weighty feeling of anticipation with that beat that lends itself well to the lyrics, almost like a sense of anxiety and uncertainty building to a big release.
So going in, because you said you guys like to try to do different things each time, where you are trying to make something super dynamic and “labyrinthian” when you start to write some of these?
Sinaiko: I feel like it’s just what happens. It’s a complicated process to predict because everything happens differently each time. But I feel like some of the songs, like “Shadow of a Dove,” Susanna started that riff a while ago, and then we had to break it down piece by piece. It was an intense and heavy writing session.
Thomson: I learned a lot about myself in that process. I have a tough time with counting, actually. I’m not very good at it. It’s all feel-based for me, but I just play guitar and do vocals. So things make sense in my mind, but then it’s up to Max to decode that shit.
Edelman: I was genuinely pissed off at Susanna.
Thomson: Which is totally understandable. I have never written a song like that before or since, but I think we’re all proud of it. One thing just led to another with the writing process of that song. I also was testing my limits with my guitar skills at the time.
Sinaiko: Sometimes, when you and I write together, we say, “Ooh, this is the thing. Or what if we did this?” It’s kind of for fun sometimes.
Edelman: Maya and Susanna write differently and similarly. There are also so many ways that we generate music that make it a certain way one day or another way a different day. That’s what keeps it interesting. When I first saw them play, it was essentially an acoustic duo. How they would weave their guitar playing, harmonies and lyrics was so unique to me. I had so many drum parts while watching them without even wanting to come to me like this flood of ideas. It’s interesting how all these songs have been written. I feel certain songs have a solid sense of the rhythm. But I think as we write newer stuff, we’re thinking of what’s fun to play live and what feels really good. Also, having played together all these years, all of our DNA is fusing. So the songs on Revival of a Friend are a really interesting conglomeration or swirling pool of all these different interactions.
I can tell just by your dynamic. It’s all kind of melding together, and I like how you guys think about things.
Edelman: A lot of it is from listening to each other extremely delicately and trying to get the best parts of that showcased. For such a dynamic band, how we go up and down and fill every little tiny crack in between is why it’s such a challenging band to play in. To be honest, we talked about that a lot. It’s some of the most demanding music I’ve ever played. It’s a constant back and forth. Some days, you say, “Oh, my God, we did it.” Some days, you’re like, “I need to totally rework how I’m thinking about this.” But now we’re really getting to what’s important: playing as a band and listening to each other.
What is the biggest thing you will take away from this full-length album-making process as you’ve done many different things?
Sinaiko: Never give up.
Edelman: Yeah, and keep having fun with your friends. And life is good.
Thomson: It’s all you have. We’ve talked a lot recently about how choosing a life as a musician feels like pursuing a religious path. Many people aren’t necessarily going to understand it, and many things feel against you, but you have to have complete, unwavering faith. You’ll have moments where you question your faith, and then you must push through and get back to it. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I have nothing but respect for anyone who is choosing to sacrifice everything to pursue a life in art. Every part of creating music is a roller coaster of emotions, even within a single day. In the moments where I can step back and gain a little perspective I am grateful to even have the chance to try.
Sinaiko: It’s a long way to the top if you want to rock and roll.
Watch Sour Widows’ 2022 performance at the Pershing in Austin, Texas below.
Olivia Abercrombie is Paste‘s Associate Music Editor, reporting from Austin, Texas. To hear her chat more about her favorite music, gush about old horror films, or rant about Survivor, you can follow her on Twitter @o_abercrombie.