Why Techno RuleBreaker Avalon Emerson Traded Club Bangers For Featherlight DreamPop
Avalon Emerson has spent the last decade producing techno as restorative as it is complex: jewel-encrusted synth melodies and pastoral epics that seem more suited to forest beaches than nightclubs. The Arizona native is known for his bold yet intuitive DJ sets, where industry legends collide with the shimmering hyperpop of Two Shell and Italian disc jockeys Cocteau Twins find each other. It favors breaking beats, carefully placed samples and the occasional eyebrow raise.
But with his new project, Avalon Emerson & the Charm, he's moved from eclectic club music to a songwriting style he doesn't know what to call it. "I feel like 'pop' is a lazy term, but it's also quite a blanket term, actually," he told me via Zoom from London's Notting Hill, where he rehearses with his band. The sunny and breezy texture of the forthcoming debut has a warm, Balearic touch courtesy of left-field pop specialist London Bullion (Nathan Jenkins), who served as the album's executive producer; the album's bouncy, not-so-retro vibe is similar to the work done for Westerman and Nilufer Cani.
Emerson wanted to stay away from dance music for a while, although he was well aware of the risk he took as a DJ when he took the mic. (“Too embarrassing, right?” she laughs.) When she moved to Los Angeles with husband Hunter Lombard in 2019, she envisioned a new phase in her career, working behind the scenes of other musicians. His first two sessions were with Romy xx. "The sweetest angel," said Emerson. "We work in a great studio and if I don't know what I'm doing, there's no problem. It was the end of February 2020. I remember thinking, "I read something weird on Reddit that seemed pretty serious."
For Emerson, the concept of "My God, I'm done" is "Do I like my work?" in a pandemic The blackout forced him to ditch the late-night hamster wheel and international flights and instead focus on songwriting. Explores chord changes and verse/chorus/stanza structure; just as importantly, he sought a "peacemaker" to root his new skills and bear fruit. The album was created with the help of collaborators such as multi-instrumentalist Kevon Hobeheider and guitarist Joe Newman, first at home with Lombard and then in a studio in London with Boullion. Emerson almost belittled some of his sketches. "It's not really a song, just crazy little beats," recalls Emerson Bullion. But with the help of friends, even the most divided ideas are formed. "Knowing that you can put small pieces together is a revelation," he says.
When I spoke with Emerson in mid-March, he was dedicated to learning another important skill: the art of speaking to a group. "I can't sing live or anything like that," he admitted. "We didn't have a preparation period, like many artists do when they enjoy live shows, so we had a soft start." On the first night of his month-long stay at the Members' Club in London, where he performed behind closed doors every Wednesday, there were about five people in the audience, including his manager and some close friends; it was the first time he sang in front of the public. "I really, really respect the team now," he said, "because it's a completely different field."
Pitchfork: Your new project feels like a sharp left turn. Can you explain how this happened?
Avalon Emerson: I never listened to dance music in my spare time. I've always wanted to create something that can be played wirelessly on an acoustic guitar or piano and still be close. In high school I was making folk music on guitar, then when I moved to San Francisco I started making dance music and DJing. I've been pretty good at it, so music has been the focus of my career for the last decade. I don't want to say that the desire to make pop music comes from negative feelings "I don't like dance music anymore". I still love it and I'm still inspired. Of course, it happens less and less now, but it is still a part of me.
Is it hard to learn to write real songs over the years of making dance music?
To me, that's the secret of the black box. I went to Wikipedia and looked at different song structures, I broke down all these songs that I liked. He taught me music theory, I learned chord progressions. There were many times when I was banging my head against the wall that this was not the way I was supposed to go. I've worked with other producers and songwriters, but it wasn't until I started working with Nathan that it really took off.
How was your relationship with the bullion?
When I was living in Berlin, my friend Nathan Mickey came up to me and said, "Dude, you have to listen to this song." He went on YouTube and looked up "Blue Pedro" and we were both like, "Yo, I love that damn jam." So when I started "Forgotten Tale" for DJ-Kicks, I thought, "I want to cover this and who does the best covers? The Bulls." So we started working together. He has a wonderful alchemy of hard and soft skills. It is not very technical and it is not daring. Sometimes I have to tease him Is this a good text? Does it make sense? He said, "Those words sound funny, but when you read them they sound a little awkward. Maybe we'll find something else. It's very comfortable.
Your products and DJs can be loud and loud, but this record is pretty mellow in a lot of ways.
Ever since I started making dance music, there's been an arms race to get louder and louder, and I'm not aware of that. The cathartic release that people seek when they go to a club is something that I understand, respect and participate in as a DJ. But the perfect album I imagine when I listen to music is the Cocteau Twins album, a soft and beautiful thing. I wanted to make a nice, sweet record, but lyrically in my head things were dark and sad and sometimes very black. This alignment is important because even from a place of pain something beautiful can come. Honestly, I think there's more art here than anything else.
You've had a pretty successful career as a DJ, but now you find time to make albums like this and tour with a full band. "Okay, let's ditch the DJ and do this other thing?" it's scary to say.
Maybe, maybe, maybe. This is a financial risk. I have a newfound respect for the team. DJ pure money for nothing. I boarded the plane, me and my flash drive. In the club world, you can pretty reliably fill a venue with hundreds of people every night if you don't know the artist. I don't know how many people are in the Belgian club, I'm just a DJ, they know who I really am. They come to the club to hang out with friends and dance, not to get excited about my latest EP.
It's very difficult to make money playing live. The shows we do seem normal, we might lose some time because we have optimistic plans to earn from other shows or festivals in the future. But in general it is a big risk. Will people come? These tickets must be sold or there will be none.
How has your approach to DJing changed?
I feel like DJing is one of those skills you pick up as you get older. When I first started clubbing in San Francisco, my favorite DJs were mostly old guys like Francois K and DJ Harvey, people who could listen to a lot of songs and play. When I first heard Valerie Dore's "Get Closer" when I was 19, I thought, " What is this song?" But Harvey has been playing forever, probably since he came out.
In recent years I have become more than just an archivist. In the early stages of my DJ career, I was trying to find songs to play that weekend, like, "I'm going to play at Panorama Bar, I need to find some good high frequencies." But now it's more like, "This song is important, and even though there's a chance I'll never play it, I have to keep it in my Rekordbox."
In fact, the last time I played this six-hour game today, I spent an hour playing all the ironic indie stuff in the late 90s, early 2000s. Part of me thinks this indie slime vibe is back; it's a group of millennials my age and a little older, and they're constantly shaming Gen Z: "Your sides aren't cute, your jeans are skinny. It's not cute, your music isn't cute, you've got bacon ways to love, they're not at all cool. We've been told we're old and uncool. So the indie fever thesis is back, with all these millennials saying, 'I used to be cool, and you're really cool with it, Gen Z kids.'
In fact, I'm too young for personal memories of some of the songs - I graduated high school in 2007, so late 2000s Ed Banger et al. But everything stopped: I played Still Going's remix of Austra's "The Beat and the Pulse", Morgan Geist's version of "House of Healous Lovers", LCD Soundsystem's "Yeah (Crass Version)". Then, finally, you have to go for something modern: it is important to have a dialogue between the present and the past, so that it is not 100% retro, like "It was better in my time". So I played "Girls" by The Dare and it was perfect
Have you played Girls The Dare? Avalon, this conversation is over.
Sorry, I know! But hello brother.
Originally appeared on Pitchfork
