Following the release of her latest LP ‘With the Wind’, LOCK had the pleasure of catching up with multi-instrumentalist Molly Healey to discuss her innovative sound, which she dubs Orchestral Dance Music (ODM), along with the album and lead single ‘White Noise’.
Hi Molly and welcome to LOCK. For our readers, could you please let us know a little about yourself?
I’m a violinist, cellist, guitarist, and singer-songwriter based in Springfield, MO. I have been playing and singing music all of my life! I started quite young by singing with my parents in my dad’s choir, and dabbling in instruments throughout elementary and high school, but not really committing to anything in particular. In fact, for several years, I thought I was going to try to move to NYC to be on Broadway. (I realized pretty quickly that I was not cut out for such a move with basically no acting or dancing talent.) I started playing fiddle in earnest at about the age of 21, and began playing with local bands at the same time. At first, it was mostly bluegrass and country, but I started writing my own music around 2015 when I bought my first loop pedal. Since then, I’ve released five albums and toured as far as Japan playing my original compositions. I’m also a mother to 20 year old Annabelle (stage name Annabelle Eve), who is budding into a skilled performer in her own right.
Your latest single “White Noise” explores themes of self-loathing and loneliness in the digital age. Can you talk about what inspired this song and why it resonates with you personally?
This song is definitely a mix of a personal point of view, as well as perceived points of view from other people I’ve run into over my years. Ever more increasingly, the digital age is presenting this cacophony of what feels like…nothingness…most of the time. And we’re all working so hard to add to it. We’re putting on little dramas to post online, hoping to reach those coveted views, only to have the effect vanish in a few days’ time. It’s really upsetting to me, honestly. How short can our attention span go? What percentage of the internet will be complete lies and AI slop before we finally say enough is enough? I don’t know the answer to that question, but this song is kind of referring to that morning-after feeling after you’ve spent a lot of time doing something that isn’t good for you; whether that’s arguing and scrolling online, creating drama, drinking too much, or all of the above. It’s a feeling that I’ve spent the better part of my recent life trying to avoid, and writing a song about it helps me acknowledge it, talk about it, and eventually release it.
This is a reimagined version of your 2019 track. What prompted you to revisit and evolve the song for this new release?
This was something that happened completely organically and accidentally, honestly. I was trying to figure out ways to make my solo looping show better when I started playing with Ableton Live. Ableton is an interface that can do so much more than just recording and playing back tracks to loop over; there are midi instruments, beats, and a whole library of sounds that you can have fun with and add to the live show. But I had no idea what I was doing. I reached out online to see if someone would, specifically, help me out with adding live beats to some of the songs, and that is how I met with my co-producer, Dave Tough. Dave teaches production at Belmont University in Nashville, and offered to create sort of a malleable backing track (for live shows) to one of my songs, send it back to me, and see what I thought. When I got the mix, I couldn’t stop listening to it. I suddenly wanted help with all of my songs, so I started creating a whole new live set with songs that I wasn’t really able to play very effectively without my band. After some time and a few shows, I realized that I wanted to make a whole album. The songs sounded so different from their original forms, so in addition to some new songs, I thought it would be fun to share some of the re-records with people. Kind of like a re-mix, but a whole new recording of it. I even coined a term for the genre that I couldn’t really find anywhere else: dance music, but with big orchestral layers and vocals. It wasn’t house music, it wasn’t EDM in general, but it wasn’t rock, or alternative, or really anything else that I’d heard. So I started calling it ODM, a.k.a. Orchestral Dance Music. And it’s not meant to replace playing with a band, that’s still my favorite thing to do; it’s just a completely different sound that I wanted to experiment with and add to the library. It’s really been a blast.
You’ve coined the term Orchestral Dance Music (ODM). How does “White Noise” exemplify this genre you’ve been developing?
It’s definitely one of the more experimental tracks of the effort, and really makes me think of that 90s trip hop sound of Massive Attack and Portishead. If there was an established genre that it’s closest to, that would probably be it. But again, the orchestral layers are what set it apart. It loops a few cello lines throughout the song and really features the violin solo at the end, as well as full on orchestral string arrangements through the middle. And again, the focus on these orchestral instruments is what I think sets it apart from trip hop, or EDM, or any of the other genres it lends from. It’s like the club…with an orchestra right next to the dance floor.
The track combines violin, cello, synth, and voice over propulsive beats. How do you approach arranging orchestral instruments alongside electronic elements?
It’s honestly my favorite thing to do. I love the instruments I play so much, and I love injecting them into all kinds of music. But I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for that 90s dance music and electronic sound. And with my classical and compositional background, the parts almost wrote themselves. I guess it’s just the way my brain works. I can’t write that many kinds of music, but for some reason I have a niche love for string arrangements laced over electronic sounding tracks. It just works, I guess. String arrangements in general are just so fun and interesting to me. I love creating them.
The track is taken from your latest album With the Wind, where you’re pushing the boundaries of orchestral and electronic music. What was your overarching vision for this album?
Firstly, I wanted to make the album to show people what I was up to with this new project. I play a lot of different kinds of shows with a lot of bands, and this is just one iteration of me. I wanted to give folks the opportunity to actually hear it in case they’ve missed the handful of ODM shows I’ve played so far. More importantly though, I wanted to take the soundscapes that were happening in my head, and make them real life music. When I’m playing my original music, most of the time I’m doing acoustic versions of my songs, simplified. But I was ready to hear the big crescendos, the orchestras, the dance beats. I have a really cinematic brain, and I see and hear things in their full form before I even begin to record or create. I wanted this album to sound like a movie about my consciousness and subconsciousness, the good AND the ugly. We all have happy thoughts, and we all have dark thoughts. I think it comforts people to know that they’re not alone with the less savory sentiments. We all have them. We make art about them to help process them and acknowledge them. We’ve been doing it for all of human existence.
What do you hope listeners feel or take away when they hear “White Noise” and the album as a whole?
A peek inside the mind of a fellow human, one that might help them not feel so alone. The album isn’t upbeat or party music; it isn’t meant to be. It serves to tell some of my story, and I believe that telling truthful stories about the human experience connects us in very strong ways.
Revisiting a song you’ve lived with for years must be emotional. What has re-recording and reimagining “White Noise” taught you about yourself as an artist?
I’ve always had a bad case of imposter syndrome. Often I struggle with feeling worthy of any listens at all. And make no mistake, not all of my songs are winners, and ometimes I have to let them go as a misguided idea. But other times I find a song that I can honestly say that I feel proud of. And not really because it’s virtuosically performed or musically brilliant, because really none of my songs are that. It’s more so that I can listen back to it and validate that I did, indeed, convey the story and the emotion I was trying to talk about. That really is what art is all about, telling stories, making connections. And technique is interminably linked to good story-telling, because if you use cliched expressions, tired progressions, or shoddy playing, it stands in the way of the message for sure. But you don’t have to be a virtuoso to tell a good story through art, and it’s nice to know that is the case. And I suppose that I have learned that I fall into that category of musicianship, at least I hope. I also am in continuous pursuit of growth.
Finally, what’s next for Molly Healey? Any more music in the works?
Of course! I don’t think there will be a cessation of music for me until there is a cessation of breathing. I already have multiple new songs I’d like to get out into the world. We have an animated short that is going to be dropping shortly for White Noise, I’m very excited about it.I just finished touring with one of my other bands, The Ozark Mountain Daredevils. For the last decade, I’ve been splitting my time pretty equally between them and my solo project, so this will be the first time in my life when I’m putting all the eggs in the solo artist basket. I want to record an album dedicated to America’s National Parks, and I already have 4 songs written for it. I plan on continuing full band shows, solo shows, and lending fiddle or cello playing to others that need it. I do a lot of for-hire session work at home. I love that we live in a day and age that we can do that as players. So I have a lot of ideas and pots on the fire, probably too many, but I generally think that is better than being stuck for inspiration. There will be new music coming out soon.