Interview by Ran Xu / Photos by Yehoshua Sejour
It’s a sunny afternoon in the midst of a heatwave when I meet Sam Reyne, but the warmth that she radiates stepping into the Bushwick café is different; it’s refreshing, makes the space feel like home. She’s just had an insane night out, she tells me, and begins to recount the events. Talking animatedly of breakdowns and strip clubs and texting an ex, it all feels like a whirlwind that I’ve been pulled into, one that I want to stay in. This is hardly an extraordinary night, however, for Reyne. Her life seems to have its own gravitational pull, and a chaos swarms about her. But she uses this to her advantage, takes the chaos and expertly molds it into masterpieces.
She sits down with Alt Citizen to talk about her upcoming album, unrequited love, singing for Ariana Grande, and seeing the world – and all of its thrilling and beautiful and mundane moments – in songs.
Can you introduce yourself?
Sam: I’m Sam Reyne, like the rain from the sky, but my parents were real hippies, so they spelled it R-E-Y-N-E. That name was actually given to me by Village People. Do you know “YMCA”? My dad was in Village People. He left the band, like, three years ago. My mom was an opera singer, so family of musicians. I grew up singing opera, and I moved to New York to do classical singing and Broadway despite how I look – I literally look like trash Joan Jet. [Laughs] I’m not kissing Dakota Fanning yet, but one day, I will. But I grew up singing classical music. It’s funny because I feel like I have different voices. I had phases growing up when I would listen to like, Justin Bieber. Ariana Grande was a huge one for me. I love her. I met her when I was 15. I actually sang to her.
Wait, you have to explain.
Sam: It was one of the cringiest moments of my whole life, and one of the most defining moments of my whole life. My dad bought me this ticket for my 16th or 15th birthday. It was VIP. And I go there, it was during a meet and greet, and I start singing, “We in this bitch, finna get crunk,” to Ariana Grande, to her face. And then as I walked by, she stomps her heel and goes, “Bitch, you better sing.” And I was just like, what? I was so shocked. I was sure she was lying.
I can’t imagine anything more validating than hearing that from your favorite singer.
Sam: Yeah, and I remember the security tried to push me out of the room, and she was like, no, no, no, I have to tell this girl, please don’t stop singing. Which is why when I moved to the city, I was always writing music, always playing guitar, and it’s funny going through all these old scriptures of mine.
How do you feel like you’ve evolved as an artist since you first started writing music?
Sam: You just discover as you go. I first put out an EP and it’s not like it’s bad, but there are certain songs that I cringe at now, but one happens to be the one that has the most streams. But I was trying to be Ariana Grande, trying to be someone that inspired me but just isn’t me. Now I’ve gone through a huge heartbreak, and at the time, I didn’t even know how I was going to wake up the next day, let alone write. But I found life just goes, it’s like “Ferris Bueller” – if you don’t stop to look around once in a while, you’re gonna miss it. Does that answer the question?
Definitely. It sounds like you’re learning as you go, and you were able to come closer to finding your authentic self through these experiences. It also sounds like music is how you experience the world and how you express your feelings.
Sam: Yeah! Basically, I don’t have an internal monologue. One of the songs that I put out previously is literally called “Internal Monologue.” And the whole song is basically about me seeing only pictures and silent films in my head. I don’t know what I sound like. I’ve never been able to hear or talk to myself. And some people say that’s awesome, and some people are like, how?
I can’t even comprehend how that would work.
Sam: Do you hear yourself in your head? Like, can you have a conversation with yourself?
Oh, yeah. I hear all my thoughts in my own voice.
Sam: I wish I could, but it’s always like a desert in my head. Have you ever been to the desert? When you’re in the desert, it’s so quiet that it’s so loud. And it’s almost like, what’s that thing when you have ringing in your ear? Tinnitus? Maybe I have tinnitus and I’m just glamorising it, but I hear things in music. I like somebody, I hear songs in my head. And that’s it. Always been music, always.
So love is a big inspiration for you. Tell me about what else inspires your songwriting.
Sam: I’m pretty much writing about love, but I’m trying to write more about simple things that I do. One of my greatest inspirations is Joe Keery, Djo is his artist name. As of recently, his music is so inspiring to me because he writes about not just love, but he’ll be like, I just graduated top of my class, and I have so much to say about my life, which is why I wrote this song called “Boots.” It was a breakup song, but that was the pivoting point of like, I’m gonna write about something that I do, which was getting blackout drunk and walking in the park, and literally shaving my boots down because I was walking so much with nowhere to go. I was just like, well, I’m gonna write a song about how I love my boots, because they were there for me when she wasn’t.
There’s something so powerful about that – these small things that you’re able to capture and turn into stories, things that other people might overlook. Something as simple as a pair of boots – it has meaning to you.
Sam: Yeah, it’s like personification, too. When I was a kid, I would keep carpets from my house when they were ripping them up because I didn’t want it to change. I now have this outlook on change that’s completely 180. It’s probably a defense mechanism, but now, if something’s changing, I’m just, like, get rid of it, throw it out the window. And I think that could be good and bad, but with “Boots,” I was like, no, I am not just gonna pretend like this love that defined my life didn’t happen. It changed my life. I think that song, in a funny way, was like a cry for help, but I’m still laughing about it and drinking champagne out of a boot.
Talk to me about this new record you’re working on, And Then She Was the Color of Disco. How did you come up with the name?
Sam: It just kind of popped in my head. I took photos at Ciao Ciao Disco. It’s a dance club in Williamsburg. I was laying on the floor, and all these tiles light up, and I was thinking about how the dance floor is a light and there’s different colours. One day I’m red, one day I’m blue. I think in colours. Every day of the week, every person has a colour. It’s not necessarily aura, it’s what they make me feel like.
Do you have to get to know a person first before they get a color?
Sam: No, I just feel it. Like, for you, I see the color orange. Like a very soft, glowing orange. Very bright.
I love orange. That makes me so happy.
Sam: But I don’t know, I figured with his album… There’s a pattern on the dance floor. Maybe someone’s crying in the corner, or maybe someone’s throwing a drink in someone’s face, or maybe someone’s making out. There’s always something happening. I just wanted it to be about that. And the past year and a half, I’ve gone out and I’ve talked to so many interesting people, and I’ve been really real through it all, which trips people up sometimes. In a setting like that, people don’t want to talk about real, they want the next line of cocaine. So I want to put it in people’s faces, that it’s okay to be stripped on the dance floor. I think the cover art for each song will be a different color tile. The cover of the entire album will be different squares, so when you play a song, all you see is a purple rectangle and it says lights off.
There’s definitely a strong visual element to your artistry. It’s very immersive.
Sam: Absolutely. I’m going to El Paso to shoot the trailer for the album. One of my best friends makes paper mache, so I’m going to commission her to make a paper mache photo booth, and I’m gonna put it in the middle of the desert. And I would love to open the album with me just walking straight onto the screen, Wes Anderson style, and going into the photo booth, and then it’s black, with my synth pop over.
You’ve released quite a bit of music already, but now you’re working on this new album, and you mentioned that there’s going to be a shift in your sound. How did that change come about?
Sam: When I first started writing, I was writing mostly R&B because of my influences like Victoria Monet and Ariana Grande, but it didn’t really sound like me. Then I released this song called “Wallpaper,” and it sounded very “End of Beginning,” and I started thinking, “Okay, here’s what I sound like.” “Gum” came after that, and that was very funky disco, about a crush that was not really meant to happen. But it pulled a blanket over my head and I just didn’t really feel as inspired as I do now. I was at a standstill. And then I wrote “Carousel,” and during the whole process, I met these two girls, Veronica Hein and Reilly Rose. They made it come to life, and “Carousel” was really the turning point. It’s on this album.
“Bedframe” is one of the new tracks, and I had the privilege of hearing the demo. It was so fresh and fun. Tell me about this song and its story.
Sam: “Bedframe” is about somebody that I’m very, very into at the moment. But she’s a friend of mine, and it’s kind of a touchy subject because I haven’t been able to quite tell her. But she’s always pining after this boy. Classic ballad of a lesbian, you know? Unrequited love. And I have to hear her talk about it, and I, of course, want to be there as a friend. I’m like, “Girl, that’s nuts,” but at the same time, I’m like, “Does he even know?” That’s one of the lyrics. He makes bedframes, by the way. I was like, I’m gonna make you [a bedframe], and it’s going to be immortalized, and it’s going to be boundless and sound like a “Thelma & Louise” soundtrack song. “Bedframe” is an anthem for unrequited love, but in a nice way, because it doesn’t have to be sad.
What comes first for you when you write songs, the music or the lyrics?
Sam: I write poetry, so I used to pull from old notebooks that I had and be like, all right, what rhymes with this? But recently, I’ve gotten a little more seasoned, and now I’ll make a piano beat or a melody line, and then I’ll say, all right, what can I write? I write lyrics in my notes, and then I’ll say, what’s the theme gonna be? What is the chorus gonna sound like? Because that defines the entire rest of the song. And then I write the second verse. The first verse comes last for me. I’m kind of all over the place, but it’s always chorus first.
Walk me through your creative process.
Sam: I wrote “Bedframe” at my job. I work in Soho, serving. The main guitar riff came into my head and I, literally on the clock, as I’m serving people, have my voice memos up in my phone. I have a tray of drinks, and I’m singing into this. I bought a chicken Caesar wrap and I literally ripped it on GarageBand. I do everything on GarageBand, then I take it to my producer, Tom, at the studio, Rad Hazard. Tom McCaffrey is remarkable. He’s, like, my musical kindred spirit. And we just rip it, took three sessions, and he just knows. I’m so blessed to be able to have a platform to make it happen.
That’s the magical thing about New York. You meet all of these amazing, talented people with different roles in the industry, and you really click with them, both musically and as people. What other ways has New York and your community shaped and influenced your work?
Sam: My whole life, I’ve been pretty weak and pretty quiet. I kind of felt like the Gretchen Wieners of my friend group and they were, like, the Regina George. They were the queen bee. And then I moved to the city, and I was just myself, and more people started to gravitate towards me, and it was weird because I was like, why do you guys want to hang out with me? But now I’m like, wait, I’m awesome. I want everyone to always feel that they can come to me and feel like they could share anything with me. That’s what I would want out of this upcoming body of work – people to feel as though they are my friend, or like we’ve spent time on a dance floor together. I’ve almost broken my nose on the dance floor. I come alive, I dance for pleasure. That’s something someone very special told me – dance for pleasure. And I’ve always remembered that. That dance for pleasure is this album.
What do you want listeners to be able to take away from your upcoming album?
Sam: Just hearing that music has touched somebody else is the greatest gift of all. When you think about it, you listen to something that someone else likes, maybe a certain timestamp, and then you listen to that over and over, and wonder what they were thinking about. That’s the hope of this album. I hope everybody has a song on this album that reminds them of the way someone brushes their hair off their shoulders.
I know that you have a show coming up as well, which is super exciting. How are you feeling about it?
Sam: This is only my third live show. In the past, I’ve done both with basically just tracks, not a live band, and so two days ago was the first band practice I’ve ever had. I was a little nervous for it, because it’s hard to orchestrate things if it’s your first time doing it. I’m a perfectionist. I’m a Virgo. Everything has to go according to plan. But even if it doesn’t go exactly how I wanted to, I know we’re gonna put on a rad show. I’m very excited. I think it’s gonna be a good showcase of the body of work that I’ve done so far.
If you could describe your music in three words, what would they be?
Sam: Christmas lights, the color blue, and… the corner of someone’s mouth. I just feel like those are things that are, like, small enough that they’re huge. And I think that’s a perfect way to describe it. Like, when you think about those things, they’re small, but they’re so loud.
Do you have any last words that you would like to share?
Sam: I may look like Towa Bird, but I’m Sam Reyne.
Catch Sam Reyne at The Spare Room in Brooklyn on July 22nd.