FEATURE: Modern-Day Queens: Blondshell

FEATURE:

Modern-Day Queens

Blondshell

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THIS incredible artist…

born Sabrina Teitelbaum is one of the finest of her generation. This feature is all about Blondshell. I am going to end with a review of her new album, If You Asked for a Picture. Her second studio album, following on from 2023’s acclaimed Blondshell, is from someone that everyone should know. Even though she is a hugely popular artist, there are some that do not know about her. There are some great new interviews with her that I want to bring in. I would advise people check this feature that is about Blondshell’s favourite songs. I am going to start out with some interviews before getting to a review of her new album. NME were among those who have spoken with the phenomenal Blondshell. Her new album is among this year’s best:

“Her second album, ‘If You Asked For A Picture’, which also takes its name from ‘Dogfish’, doesn’t give all of Teitelbaum, but it doesn’t hold back either. Rather, it seeks to delve into the often-unexplored “grey areas” that exist between the drama – the constant hum of pain that persists behind even the most mundane moments of life.

When NME meet Teitelbaum a month prior to its release, she’s relaxed, energised from the lottery win of landing in London from Los Angeles during its rare few faux-spring days – a brief splintering of sunshine before the freezing rain resumes for a little while longer. She’ll head to Paris in two days and, almost in preparation, she’s been thumbing through a copy of Simone De Beauvoir’s The Woman Destroyed while lounging around the capital’s parks. “I like to read books that are in the setting I’m in,” she says. “And I’m always reading books by women and listening to classic storytellers who are women, because I think that there’s a complexity there.”

That same complexity, though, is frequently subject to misunderstanding – an experience Teitelbaum is all too familiar with. When her first album came out, swathes of the press heralded it as a masterclass in “female rage”. This, in part, came from the thread of anger that ran through it – ‘Salad’, for example, saw her daydream about murdering a man who assaulted her best friend. Yet Teitelbaum admits feeling “mixed” about those suggesting the entire LP was drenched in wrath. “It was a really angry record, and I am a woman, so it isn’t wrong. But sometimes it’s like, ‘OK, you’re flattening my existence into just being about this one piece’.

“I think I feel pretty masculine as a person, and my relationship with gender has been somewhat complicated. On the first album, I wanted to show people who I was for the first time, and so it was important for me to really hit you over the head with it so that you understood who I am and how I feel inside,” she explains. “With this album, I realised that the idea I had that softness would cancel out my masculinity isn’t true. Not every moment of my life is spent being angry.”

This time, the masculine energy crops up in the sonic influences instead, something she deems as “heavier, dirtier guitar tones” from the likes of Queens of the Stone Age, Red Hot Chili Peppers and The Strokes – the latter of whom she admires for their consistency. “I like the fact they didn’t ever really change it up,” she explains. It’s a contrast to the pressure to constantly reinvent or ‘rebrand’, imposed upon female artists today. “I think that men have been allowed to have certain aesthetic things that haven’t really been available to solo female artists. I leaned on those aesthetics for confidence in a way, in a studio space.”

It manifests in the album’s sludgier moments: the jagged, alt-rock guitar riffs and forceful, grungy basslines that introduce elements of more traditional rock than the indie undertones of her debut. Yet, it’s underpinned by a striking vulnerability – “little moments of fresh air”, as she puts it.

‘What’s Fair’, for example, is a harrowingly accurate portrait of the push-and-pull of a mother-daughter relationship, while ‘Two Times’ offers slightly insecure musings on a real-life love, one devoid of the drama of the rom-coms Teitelbaum was raised on. “How bad does it have to hurt to count? Does it have to hurt at all?” she drawls over a pensive acoustic guitar, alternating between the compulsion of a pure, safe love and the trepidation of surrendering to somebody else entirely.

It recalls a canon of love songs that herald simple domesticity as their muse – the sweet sheen of Graham Nash’s Joni Mitchell-dedicated ‘Our House’, and Paul McCartney’s swooning ‘My Love’, which fixates on still being able to find sustenance from bare kitchen cupboards over grander gestures of romance. Teitelbaum’s take, though, instils a little more horror, with contentment occasionally splintered by an anxious inner monologue of: “Is this all there is?”, before once again succumbing to sweetness.

Another recurring theme comes in her exploration of body image. On closer ‘Model Rockets’, she laments, “I got big and pigeonholed”, a reflection on being treated differently depending on her weight. ‘Event of a Fire’, meanwhile, sees her admit: “Part of me still sits at home in a panic over 15 pounds.”

“[On the album] there’s a lot of unspoken stuff that I lived with when I was younger, that I couldn’t say,” the 27-year-old explains, reflecting on growing up in the ’00s, where gossip magazines slapped grainy photos of celebrity cellulite on front pages and shamed anyone who couldn’t fit into a size zero. “That had a huge impact on me, the women in my family, my friends… everybody. I don’t know anybody who escaped that. But at the same time, even though everybody is thinking about it, you suffer it silently.”

When the pink-hued tsunami of fourth-wave feminism crashed into pop culture in the 2010s, a body positivity movement emerged in tow, just in time for Teitelbaum’s teenage years. Suddenly, there was an emphasis on self-love, and it was quickly adopted by fashion and beauty brands that had spent the prior decade shilling self-hatred alongside the same products they now marketed with inclusivity.

“I hope people feel relieved when they listen to this”

For Teitelbaum, the sudden whiplash-inducing shift had a profound impact. “There was suddenly this pressure to accept yourself, but nobody was telling you how to do that,” she says. “All that stuff comes out in the music because it’s a safe place to talk about it”.

I am going to move to an interesting interview from The Forty-Five. If someone people doubt her Rock artist credentials, she is undoubtably one. One of the best of modern times. Someone who is going to be releasing spellbinding albums for years to come. I hope that she gets festival headline slots soon as it is the sort of platform that she deserves (and has earned):

“If You Asked For A Picture’ takes this snapshot of Teitelbaum, now aged 27, and widens the lens. ‘What’s Fair’ is a frequently devastating look at the parental relationship she readily describes as “a blatant, in-your-face, fucked-up situation”. “What’s a fair assessment of the job that you did / Do you ever even regret it?” goes its chorus. ‘Toy’, meanwhile, lands like a self-lacerating conveyor belt of troubles, with nods to antidepressants, low libido and body image struggles.

There is – very evidently – a lot of trauma and unpacking going on throughout Blondshell’s second record. But Teitelbaum is also vehemently opposed to the idea of having to seek out drama, or live in perpetual angst, for the sake of her art. “People have told me my entire life – and I don’t think people say this to men – that you have to basically be miserable to write,” she says. “Even when you learn that something’s not true, in your core you still feel it. So that was harder for me [to overcome] than the actual finding of subject matter.”

Sober now for five years and in the second half of her twenties, her priorities are “solid”. “It’s so laughable the idea that being 27 is ‘older’, but I feel more grown up,” she says. “When I turned 27 I was like, ‘Oh shit, this feels different. I don’t feel like a kid.’” But, as with many things she’s had to learn to deal with as a woman playing guitar in an increasing spotlight, you can be the most strong, confident, objectively successful version of yourself, and the outside world will still want to offer its two pence.

For Teitelbaum, it’s meant taking a vastly different approach to the way she goes about her songwriting and the way she goes about its public-facing accoutrements. Lyrically, she says, nothing is off the table. “There are things I want to save for myself, that I just don’t feel are other people’s business, but I don’t have that filter with the music,” she notes. “I wouldn’t be able to write at all if I thought about people listening to it.” When it comes to engaging with the online world, however, her face drops almost instantly.

“I get a feeling when I’ve been on social media too long that’s like a spiritual nausea where I’m just like, feeling sick inside…” she laughs. “My soul feels bad. It feels stale inside. Everybody has something to say, and the form of misogyny I’ve felt my whole life is a different form now that I am a musician in a professional sense. It’s a different brand of misogyny and I am not really willing to subject myself to that.

“For me, it’s like: ‘Why are you wearing a suit? You’re trying to be a man’,” she narrates. “Women and queer people in different genres face different flavours of homophobia and misogyny. Pop is more of a classic form, like body criticisms and criticisms of your life and relationships, and in rock and alternative music there’s a lot of, ‘Why are you trying to be a man? This is our space and our air that you’re trying to breathe’. You’re trying to sit in our seat at our table and you’re not allowed to. So not being in the comment sections will be very important for my health and my soul”.

Before getting to a review, I am going to move to an interview from Billboard. Among other things. Blondshell reveals how If You Asked for a Picture is an autobiographical work. It is one where we get to learn a lot from. A revealing portrait of an extraordinary songwriter. For anyone who has not listened to Blondshell, I would advise you to investigate. There are a few sections of the Billboard interview that I want to bring in:

“You’ve said this album is about asking questions of yourself. What state of mind were you in when you wrote these songs?

The first songs on the album are the first songs that I wrote for the album, so I wanted it to feel like picking up where I left off. I wasn’t intentionally feeling like, oh, I want to ask questions in the songs. It was after the fact that I thought, I guess I was asking more questions than making declarative statements. On the first album. I felt, if I’m going to record and put out music, I must be a thousand percent sure about what I’m saying. By nature of being a little bit more confident [this time], I was able to be like no, I don’t have to know one hundred percent. I can ask, is this relationship working? Is this how I want to live my life? All these different things that were coming up.

You’ve established a recognizable sound, and yet, on this album, that sound is more expansive.

Yeah, I did not want to have some huge departure. I needed to think of it as another 12 songs. But there were things [on the last album] where I thought, I would have done that differently. For example, I’m a huge background vocals person. That’s my favorite part of Fleetwood Mac and all these records that I really love. I love how it’s a whole landscape. Before we even started, I knew I wanted that to be a massive part of the record. I also wanted there to be more textures. Last time, we had a couple of textures on the record that helped define that album. I wanted those, but I also wanted new ones.

Were you inspired by any artists you were listening to in the lead-up to writing and recording?

It’s always what I happen to be listening to around that time. I was listening to a lot of R.E.M. Obviously, they’re this celebrated rock band, but it’s really about the songwriting. They’re comfortable having these big, fun, rock songs — but also “Everybody Hurts.” So, I felt I had more permission to do the big rock band thing and ballads, too.

The lyrics on both of your albums paint very personal scenarios. How autobiographical are your songs?

Like 99.9% is autobiographical, and it’s often about people that I love.

So, “23’s a Baby,” is about someone you know having a baby at a very young age?

Kind of. There’s also conceptual stuff that comes up.

You’re being metaphorical as well.

Yeah, that happens, but the only way that I can write is to write about stuff that I feel the biggest feelings about. I wouldn’t personally feel that way if I were able to just pull it out of the air. It all has to come from somewhere.

One of the things that I love about your music is that you use unusual words in your lyrics, like “docket” and “assessment,” “sepsis” and “Sertraline.” Are you aiming for that literary quality?

No. I never think, “Oh, is this how I want to say this?” The way that I write is so stream-of-consciousness — it’s just stuff that comes to mind. It’s as if I were talking to you, but I’m saying things that I wouldn’t feel comfortable saying to you or my friends or my family. They’re unspoken things — concerns that I have never voiced, or the things I’m embarrassed by, or the feelings I’ve never felt comfortable saying to somebody. It’s just done in a really conversational way.

So, it’s easier for you to say things in a song that you wouldn’t say person-to-person?

For sure.

Man, that is brave.

Yeah — and then it sucks, because everyone ends up hearing it. It’s the stuff I wouldn’t have said to my family or somebody I’m dating or somebody I used to date, or my friend who I’m not friends with anymore. It’s stuff that I wouldn’t have said, because it’s harsh or it’s embarrassing or whatever, and then they end up hearing it. That’s the hardest part of the whole thing. In a way, I have to pretend that’s not happening.

So, you’re not thinking about what the reaction might be?

Yeah. Also, I’m friends with a lot of musicians., and everybody knows that’s how it goes.

Speaking of literary influences, I was wondering if your line about “steely danification” in “Toy” is a reference to William Burroughs or the band.

It’s a reference to the band. I love Steely Dan.

There’s a recurring theme in your songs, such as “Docket” and on this album, “Two Times,” about being ambivalent about a relationship. In “Two Times,” you sing, “Once you get me, I get bored.” Do you struggle with that?

If you haven’t historically had the healthiest relationships, being in a healthy relationship can feel like, “What’s going on? What’s missing?” I also think that every form of media tells people that the valuable quality of a relationship is the conflict. Every movie I saw growing up, every TV show I watched growing up, songs — everything — relationships [revolve around] a problem. So, if your relationship is pretty absent of problems, you’re like, “What’s wrong here? We’re supposed to be fighting and then making up. What if we’re not fighting that much? Do we just not care? Is this a tepid kind of situation?” I have struggled with that”.

I am going to end with a review from When the Whistle Blows. A magnificent and compelling album from start to finish, If You Asked for a Picture is something everyone needs to listen to. This feature is about celebrating the finest women in music. Those who are leading the way and releasing the best work. Blondshell is definitely up there with the very best of them:

“Sabrina Teitelbaum aka Blondshell, has released her sophomore album and it’s every bit as thrilling and wonderful as her self-titled debut, which came out in 2023 and impressed me so much that I knew I would continue to follow her career, and what a smart decision that was from me, because her follow-up album is sensational.

The album’s title comes from a poem titled Dogfish, by iconic poet Mary Oliver, and it resonated with Teitelbaum. This album is also very much about giving us snippets into her life and mind.

While the two records are similar in sound and style, If You Asked For A Picture is more introspective and interior. It opens with the track Thumbtack, which is a wonderful acoustic led song with vivid imagery and memorable lines, much like all Blondshell songs. “You’re a thumbtack in my side/A dog bite/You distract/From what’s worse so I will let you/Keep a ball chain on my leg” She sings during the chorus, which is definitely one that stays with you.

My personal highlight from the album is a track titled T&A. it was released as a single earlier in the year, and a definite contender for one of the best singles released this year. The guitar work throughout the track is spectacular, and loud as hell, which is exactly why it works so well. Her voice is clear and concise; the production is clean and crispy. “Letting him in, why don’t the good ones love me? Watching him fall/Watching him go right in front of me”Teitelbaum sings in the chorus. It’s one that I imagine will be incredible live, perfect for concerts and festivals. It’s very tongue-in-cheek and almost funny at times, too, as is the rest of the record. One of my favourite things about Blondshell as an artist is the fact that when you’re listening to her songs, you occasionally do a double take with your ears, but in the best way. Artists that have courage to say what they truly want are so deeply important to the industry, now and forever.

Another wonderful song is Arms, which follows T&A. it’s moody, atmospheric and sassy, with hints of grunge. “I don’t wanna be your mom/But you’re not strong enough” she opens the song boldly. It seems to be a song for girls everywhere, and a warning not to try to save and fix people. “Oh well, you’re not gonna save him, save him, save him.” She sings together with stunning backing vocals.

Certainly, one of the most candid songs on the album is What’s Fair, also a single, about a mother-daughter relationship that appears to be a little estranged. Sonically, it’s pacy and up-tempo, but lyrically it’s actually quite sad at times, and talks about a mother that is over-critical. “What’s fair? What’s a fair assessment of the job you did? Do you ever even regret it?” It feels like new territory, musically.

Following that is another single, Two Times, which is a fantastic modern love song. It’s almost like a stream of consciousness, but again, it’s very honest and candid. “I’ll come back if you put me down two times/You try hard to make me yours/But once you get me, I get bored/I’ll come back if you put me down two times” Teitelbaum sings somewhat leisurely. Her vocals truly shine on this track, and it really shows how vocally talented she is.

A running theme on the album is growing up, or looking back at your younger days and ruminating, especially on tracks such as Event of a Fire and 23’s a Baby. On the latter, Teitelbaum said: ‘The song is partially about being in your twenties and feeling like you’re supposed to know everything (your parents even had kids around that age!) yet you’re truly in the weeds trying to figure out who you are. I wanted it to have a bit of a nursery rhyme feel. It’s a heavy subject so it was important to have fun when we made it.’

And it’s a lot of fun to listen to. If You Asked For A Picture is a deeply candid and confident record, but it doesn’t shy away from asking important questions”.

I am going to leave things there. A sensational artist who I have admired since her 2023 eponymous debut, If You Asked for a Picture is another masterful work from Blondshell. I think that she is going to be an artist putting out world-class albums for many years. A name that we will be hearing about…