Issue 113 / April-May 2021

easy to corner on influences as that, as proven when she
elaborates on her process.
“You have to always strive to diversify what you
hear,” she says. “I try to take influence from as many
things as possible because I think it’s easy to go down
the rabbit hole of following trends. If you do that you get
lost in what you think people want to hear, instead of
what you really sound like. The thing is with trends they
always go away.”
She elaborates further, breaking down the concept
into a simplified form: “People might not like my music
now and might not resonate with it now, but sometime
there may be someone who will. That’s enough for me.
I’m just going to do my own thing, listen to as many
different things as I can, then hopefully I won’t steal
something by accident.”
There’s method also in the juxtaposition of creaking
eeriness and wide beaming smile that much of the EP
carries. “I find when I write about a particularly dark
subject I like to wrap it in a nice little soft package
instead,” she says. “Maybe it’s the shock factor?
Sometimes it can relay the message a little easier. [On the
EP] I was definitely playing a lot more with contrasts than
ever before. I was going for more angry and distorted
sounds because I feel as someone who works within
the folk genre and as a woman, sometimes it’s like the
22
‘generals’ just tell us what the desirable traits of being a
woman are: quiet, polite and modest.
“But, on the other side of the spectrum, you have
men who are allowed to express their anger more in
music – shredding, playing heavier – that’s normally a
very desirable trait in a man,” she adds. “It’s considered
sexy, whereas if a woman acts the same way it’s
considered bitchy. So, I guess I’ve been trying to embrace
this anger and stop being so careful all the time.”
For Sara to think of her music as a time capsule that
might someday make an impression is underselling its
charm and relatability. Take Bad Thoughts Compilation,
for example. This deep dive into despondency with its
delicate guitar work and bobbing melody recalling Rozi
Plain, could quite easily soundtrack a clip show of 2020’s
most tedious, thumb-twiddling groundhog days. “Let’s
stay at home, not follow through. Let’s burn the spark
right out of you” she sings, before ending the record
with the refrain, “I think I need to get away for a while”.
They’re sentiments not lost on us.
“Get Away For A While became more a goodbye to
past selves. ‘It happened when you left the room and I
think about it every day’. It’s like when you realise that
something’s changed, that something’s over, that you’re
going to have to adapt. I feel that’s what songwriting
is for me in general: just looking back at things I’ve
experienced with more of an objective view and reflecting
on changes that were maybe quite difficult when they
happened, but they’ve brought me to where I am today
and have offered a new perspective.
“That’s something I’ve felt this year more than ever,
just being by myself. Just feeling feelings very deeply
with nothing to distract you. Really coming to terms
with things and reflecting on who you are as a person.
I lost my job, I got out of a relationship, but lockdown is
the thing that’s taught me the most so far in my life. Just
letting go, allowing things to happen and just accepting
it. I feel like now, more than ever before, I have faith that
things will turn out in the end.”
On a record so fraught with goodbyes it’s comforting
to see Wolff’s found such room for growth. In letting go
she’s gifted a record that could not only help others feel
seen, it has the potential to aid us all in some small way,
as we each weather our own personal shitstorms. !
Words: David Weir / @BetweenSeeds
Photography: Marieke Macklon / @mariekemacklon
When You Left The Room is available now.
@saraw0lff