Fast forward a little under two years and Just Cause are at it again. Just Cause Vol. 2 takes the blueprint of the original and expands upon it. There are over double the number of contributing artists, with an impressive total of sixty three songs from all corners of our current musical moment. Many of the artists have featured on these very pages (some multiple times), including the likes of Ben Seretan, Caitlin Pasko, Erika Dohi, hemlock, Mal Devisa, Michael Cormier-O’Leary, Nico Hedley, Pleasure Systems and Sam Wenc. There’s such a mix of genres, feelings and styles that there truly is something for everyone, and the minimum donation of $10 is brilliant value in anyone’s book.

But of course the compilation is about more than music. It is again raising money for another vital cause. All proceeds of Just Cause Vol. 2 go to the Immigrant Defense Project, who work tirelessly to fight the mass imprisonment and deportation of immigrants in the US. As their mission statement puts it: “IDP has remained steadfast in fighting for fairness and justice for all immigrants caught at the intersection of the racially biased U.S. criminal and immigration systems. IDP fights to end the current era of unprecedented mass criminalization, detention and deportation through a multipronged strategy including advocacy, litigation, legal advice and training, community defense, grassroots alliances, and strategic communications.”

Just Cause Vol. 2 is out now and available via Bandcamp.

Cover art by Aldrin Regina Valdez

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Now Caitlin Pasko is back with Greenhouse, a full-length album released via Whatever’s Clever that builds upon the foundations of Glass Period to craft a new space in which to explore identity and trauma. Written in the aftermath of an abusive relationship, the record again stems from raw emotion, and once more Pasko (along collaborator Henry Terepka) crafts soundscapes in which to sit and wrestle this trauma. But if the previous release held the loaded quiet of a chapel, then the new record lives up to its title too. A warmer room, open but not exposed, still subdued but cleansed by sunlight. The process of difficult reflection might be no different, but there is more clarity here, a wider view and wiser head. The sense of a fuller picture emerging from the silence.

But Pasko’s use of ambient tones mean that the silence is not quite silence at all. The space is never completely empty. Brighter though it may be, Greenhouse still holds a strange, haunted quality, a sensation that could be said to represent trauma itself. Where every absence is a lingering presence, and confusion threatens to undermine the surest convictions and beliefs. For reflection means to confront every version of the story, every variant of oneself.

But if Glass Period gave into this ambiguity, Greenhouse charts a path through by embracing its unique qualities. A sheltered and regulated space, shielded from cold snaps and pests alike. A space outside of the normal world, created with the sole intention of enabling growth. These songs might be haunted, but haunting is an inherently personal thing. A phenomenon that occurs only in isolation, at the dead of night. In order to confront our ghosts, we must see them clearly. To see them clearly, we must be quiet and alone.

This lies at the heart of the record, the way dark and challenging themes are suspended within soft, ethereal sounds. So often escapism is equated to a kind of retreat, a passive refusal to face up to reality, but here it is an active, necessary part of process. Plants do not escape life within a nursery, but grow strong enough to face it. Develop roots deep enough to last, and consolidate themselves as distinctive individuals able to face the winters to come.

We asked Pasko a few questions to get deeper into the processes behind the record, and how Greenhouse came to be.

I’m interested in the balance between escape and confrontation on the record—how the two are entwined, enable one another. Did you start out aiming for one or the other—comfort or combat—and how/when did you learn that both were necessary?

On Greenhouse, escape wouldn’t be possible without confrontation, but the confrontation on this record doesn’t come from a combative place — it comes from a place of self love and empowerment, and wanting to be healthy and free. 

I think maybe you can’t truly escape something unless you confront it and do the work to truly understand it, and songwriting has always been my way of doing the work. My songs are my way of observing all of the micro-moments within a moment; my way of saying something I didn’t get to say; my way of sharing what I learned from an experience; my way of packing up and moving on.

I also didn’t consciously write these songs in an attempt to confront anything or anyone. I think, truly, I was just trying to document my thoughts and feelings as honestly as I experienced them. I began writing “Horrible Person,” for example, because I wanted to explore the feeling of emotional labor. “I shouldn’t have to explain it to you … I shouldn’t have to give you examples.” I was entangled in a relationship with a gaslighter, and I wanted to look deeper into my feelings of frustration.

“Horrible Person” was also the result of a self-imposed challenge to start writing a song away from my piano, using only my voice. I was forced to be especially honest and specific in my lyrics, because I didn’t have the emotion of the piano to lean into. 

Forgiveness is a prominent theme, and it got me thinking about how making art fits into the process. Does it help or hinder it? To write about something is to focus on it, to return to it, to risk opening old wounds. Does it ever feel counterproductive to write about things so personal?

I absolutely opened old wounds in the making of this album. And my mind still goes dark in the days leading up to a show, when I’m practicing these songs daily and living inside of them. But I don’t regret writing about my personal experiences, because of the healing that went along with it. And sometimes it feels like the more personal and specific I am, the more universal the song ends up being and the more people it connects and resonates with. The end of “Horrible Person,” for example—the birthday text, the Venmo—these are small things that actually happened in my life, that I think a lot of people have experienced. And that connection is exciting to me. 

And I think writing about personal experiences is important. I love listening to other artists’ personal songs, and reflecting on their experiences in relation to mine. I’m inspired by courage. 

Space and silence are important elements of the record. “Where caesuras are poetry,” to quote the notes. On a purely technical, how conscious are you of allowing such room into your songs? Is it something that emerges naturally? Something you work in as the song develops?

It’s an unconscious part of my songwriting, truly. It emerges naturally. I think my songs are psychedelic in that way. They breathe, almost, making it difficult to play them to a click, because the emotion of the song just isn’t the same when I do. And I love playing with tempo and dynamics. 

Many of the tracks are written from differing points of view, but sometimes these are just different facets of your own character. I mean, ‘I Know I’ has you singing in harmony with yourself! I find myself taken by the idea that this a collaborative record conducted almost entirely within your own person—past, present and possible selves teaming up in the context of abuse and gaslighting—with the final track being the united Caitlin singing back. Does this jive at all with the process of creating the record? Did you find parts of yourself that surprised you, or merely channel what was always there?

For me, a crucial element to healing from not just the relationship and experiences that fed into Greenhouse, but previous relationships and life experiences, was hypnotherapy. I only had a handful of hypnotherapy sessions over the years, in between my regular talk-therapy sessions, but they were always pivotal points in my progress. I’d need to go home after the session and lay around and not make a sound, just rest. In those sessions, I’d pinpoint a version of my child self that was still carrying trauma, and I’d bring her forward to meet my adult self (or higher self, or internal mother). Hypnotherapy might sound bizarre to some, but as a visual learner and deep feeler it really worked well for me, and my songwriting reflects the work I was doing to heal. 

As the record ends with something like closure (or at least a reset, a fresh start), what does the future hold for your music? Is it exciting to be able to create without exorcising demons, and could the change in focus mean stylistic/musical changes too?

I’m in a healthy place, but I am still healing. Triggers can’t be avoided, and I have emotional setbacks, but I learn from them and I have support. I’m living my life alongside someone who has the most beautiful, grounding energy, and I’m looking forward to exploring peace in my songwriting and in my recordings—especially in contrast to the darkness circling around so many of us in the US and throughout the world right now. 

Greenhouse is out now via Whatever’s Clever Records and you can get it from the Caitlin Pasko Bandcamp page.

Album art by Tonje Thilsesen, cassette layout by Benedict Kupstas

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Opener ‘Barking Dogs’ is an aftermath, a song both highly strung and strangely still, written about the death of Pasko’s father and a difficult break-up only months later. The dreamy vibe and melancholic piano capture the essence of loss, a paralysis where the air around you hums with shock and loneliness begins to leak through the gaps. ‘Favourite Desert’ picks up sometime later, details of the world beginning to prick the sedated state, despite attempts to ward them off.

“I’m walking up to your favorite dessert in the store
Now I am passing it by
This is letting you go”

‘Open Windows’ sees the process continue, images floating back as the gravity and permanency of the situation dawns slowly and cruelly and with great insistence. A second torment arises here, memories becoming flimsy and fallible as doubt creeps in, which leads into the proverbial rock bottom of ‘Me Alone’, a spacious, lonely track that hides an anxious thrashing and recursive self-punishment.

“I keep going back
Keeping it intact
Somewhere in my mind
I was left behind

I’m trying to find
I’m trying to find my way back”

‘The Still’ is another aftermath of sorts, a peaceful track descending from the peak of pain. Here the sense of loss is not so much diminished as better recognised, less alien and therefore easier to sit with. So while there’s still the urge to reset things, rewind the clock and go back, there’s also a renewed sense of strength, a determination that culminates in the closing minutes as guitars rise to a stark rumble. And while there’s no perfect rebirth here, no full recovery or return to life, ‘Get Right’ closes with a certain lightness, the lyrics impressionistic yet delivered with a conviction that has you delving into their meaning.

“I’m right beside a mountain in the sky
How lucky am I?”

Glass Period is out now and you can get it via the Caitlin Pasko Bandcamp page.

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Slows Down – On and On

We’ve featured Slows Down, the recording project of British Berlin-based DIY solo artist and multi-instrumentalist Alexander Hawthorne, twice already here at WTD. His self-titled EP contained ” humming, moaning drones…spiky, cathartic crescendos and a dash of psychedelic hypnotism”, while EP2 sounded like “dream pop acts such as Beach House with a darker, post-punk edge”. Hawkthorne is now back with a third EP called, you guessed it, EP3, a four-track release that promises “a focus on rich and diverse tonality and texture…melodically spare and playing out in deconstructed pop structures, like post-rock that has been pulled back into traditional song formats”. First single ‘On and On’ confirms this, all snaking guitars and marching drums and blown-out bursts of noise. Check it out below and then order EP3 on cassette from the Slows Down Bandcamp page.

Folly Tree – In the Stone

Folly Tree are a folk pop band from Tel Aviv, who are readying their debut debut album, Consolidate, for release in February. To whet our appetites, the band have released a video, shot on the streets of Old Jaffa, Israel, an acoustic take on the song ‘In the Stone’. The video was shot by the folks at Albatross, and strips back the track, placing emphasis on lead Alex Moshe’s yearning vocals. If that sounds good to you then check out the full album ahead of release on the Folly Tree Soundcloud page.

Jake Levine – White Moon

Jake Levine is a folk singer from New Jersey who takes his inspiration from the greats like Dylan and Young. Levine has just released his debut album, In Country Sleep, a record he hopes “can give company to those nursing some broken part of themselves”. Now that’s a message WTD can get behind. To pique your interest, here’s ‘White Moon’, with its strong storytelling and a sense of wistful melancholy.

You can get In Country Sleep on a name-your price basis from the Jake Levine Bandcamp page.

Nam Wayne – Falling on the Waves

Self-described as an “American tape-rocker and reverb junkie of Scottish Vietnamese ancestry”, Nam Wayne (pronounced Nom Wayne) makes fast-paced indie rock covered in a glossy veneer of nostalgia. This is perhaps unsurprising, considering the journey from inception to release for Wayne’s debut album reads something like a Mark Leyner blurb. Starting writing back in 2005, he planned to get the whole thing sorted in a single week, though trials such as tape equipment failures, the vinyl manufacturing bottleneck, the economic downturn, a band mate’s coma (“no joke”, reads the press release), and Nam’s crippling perfectionism mean that the record hasn’t seen the light of day. February 7th sees that change, so keep an eye on the Nam Wayne Bandcamp page to see if it’s been worth the wait.

El Anillo de Kim – Tangerines

Georgia residents Reagan Byrd and Taylor Cotton, grew up in the same town outside of Atlanta and spent years listening to, playing and writing music together. Recently, the boys finally got their act together and made a record using two microphones and garageband. El Anillo de Kim, make lo-fi garage rock that is tons of fun but with an edge of emotion. What better metaphor for being young? This track, ‘Tangerines’, is taken from their album Books on Tape, and is half pristine, Dusted-esque, build up and half straight out fuzz.

Check out the El Anillo de Kim Soundcloud page for more.

Surf Rock is Dead – In Between

Brooklyn band Surf Rock is Dead make pedal-heavy shoegazey indie pop, a kind of fusion of NYC shadows and surfy melodies. Their latest single, ‘In Between’, was released a few weeks back and proves a great intro to their sound. In an interview with Billboard, band member Kevin Pariso said that it’s “a song about going back to where you’re from and not feeling like you belong anymore yet not feeling perfectly in place where you currently are”, kinda unsurprising for a band who’s members relocated to New York from Australia and Chicago.

You can get ‘In Between’ as a name-your-price download from the Surf Rock is Dead Bandcamp page.

Jake Aaron – Record Player

Jake Aaron is a British folk singer and guitarist. He has recently released a five-song EP, that provides a mix of classic folk (such as ‘Record Player’ with it’s brashly masculine, yet strangely poetic lyrics), emotive ballads (like the paino-led ‘1790’) and a fingerpicked guitar track (see ‘High Rolling’). It’s a nice little collection of songs and paves the way for a full-length release, hopefully in the not-to-distant future.

You can get the EP on vinyl from the Jake Aaron website. You can get digital copies too if that’s more your thing.

Caitlin Pasko – Barking Dogs

Caitlin Pasko weaves a conventional singer-songwriter sound with something altogether dreamier. Her new album, Glass Period, is due for release next month, and in preparation Pasko has unveiled the first single, ‘Barking Dogs’. The piano-led track was initially focused on Pasko’s experiences with anxiety, but tragedy struck as she was writing and the song naturally became about the immediate aftermath of the death of her father. It’s a very strong start to an album that I’m excited to hear, one which promises to be at once personal and ambitious. The blurb on the Bandcamp page page describes it thusly:

“On Glass Period, we find a small chapel to personal grief. There’s a chapel’s sense of calm, of refuge from the world, but also its starkness, its lack of cover from fear, its welcoming of the large and the small. There are small terrors that we must occasionally sit with for a while, which can be their own source of strength.”

Pre-order Glass Period now via the Caitlin Pasko Bandcamp page.

Les Bohem – When We Used to Get High

Les Bohem is a musician (and screenwriter) from Los Angeles who played in pop bands in the 80s and has written for the likes of Emmylou Harris and Randy Travis. Now Bohem has decided to step into the limelight himself and is releasing his debut solo album, Moved to Duarte. Pitched as “somewhere between Harry Chapin & Keaton Henson”, the album packs a heavy emotional punch. First single ‘When We Used to Get High’ confirms this, a bleary-eyed and reflective folk song, with Bohem’s gruffly whispered vocals front and centre.

Pre-order the album now from Bandcamp.

That’s all folks. Be sure to check back on this tag for previous things we have missed.

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