Interview mit Anne K. O'Neill von Serpentent

I think it’s obvious from your releases so far that you’re a big music fan – your music has a very well-rounded style and you’ve also released a few cover songs. Can you describe how your love for music developed?
That’s a fantastic compliment, thank you for that. My interest in music has been a lifelong journey as my family is incredibly musically inclined. My mom and dad both have lovely singing voices, they both played the flute when they were younger, my dad was a drummer for a brief stint, and my mom is a pianist. Additionally, some of my first memories involve standing on my dad’s feet and dancing to bands like Roxy Music and Rush. I also spent a lot of time at my grandmother’s house and she was a fantastic pianist and opera singer. She had an assortment of percussion instruments that she would hand me and we would play music together sometimes. I thought she was a really wonderful person and I wanted to be like her when I grew up. Those are the major things I would say that set me on the path I’m on now. There really isn’t a moment in time I can recall where music isn’t/wasn’t playing a big role in my life.

You are signed to Svart Records, a label that is largely focused on metal, and your own music sometimes features heavy distortion guitars. What is your personal connection to metal?
I have a few older brothers who are also music enthusiasts and one day when I was seven years old one of them came home with a Metallica „Ride The Lightning“ tape that he bought at a record store just down the street from his school. I’ll never forget hearing that album. It was the fastest, most intense thing I’d ever heard at that point in time and I was hooked. That’s not to say I started listening to metal exclusively as a young child or something, nor has that been the case since, but it has been something that speaks to me and a large quantity of my records and tapes are metal albums. I started going to shows when I was 13 and I’ve been involved, to greater or lesser degrees, in metal and various other underground scenes ever since. As a result I’ve done some touring as a roadie for several metal bands. Since I’m a visual artist I’ve also been commissioned to draw and paint several album covers, as well. I’ve been a part of a couple of collaborations and so there are some records out there which feature my vocals. Additionally, I currently have a solo black/doom project I’m working on. It’s been a dream of mine for quite some time to do this, it simply took a while for me to gather all the tools I needed in order to do so.

Your debut album „Ancient Tomes, Volume I: Mother Of Light“ already sounds remarkably professional in terms of performance and sound. Please tell us how it came about that you became creatively active yourself, and how you honed your skills.
As for being creatively active, it was quite a process. I taught myself how to play piano by ear at the age of 5 or 6, guitar when I was 17, and drums when I was 26. I was taught how to play the flute and read music in band class in school when I was in the sixth grade. I sang in my school choir for two years, but some of the selections we had to sing didn’t exactly appeal to my rocker sensibilities so I stopped enrolling in that course in eighth grade. Instead, I simply started singing at home all the time when no one else was around. While I’d always daydreamed of playing in a rock band since around the age of ten, playing music was something I generally did in private. Later on as an adult I used to go to the downtown library in Seattle just so I could play the pianos they had available for reservation in hour-long increments. I also had a super cheap Ibanez electric I bought off of a friend for $50 that I would play in my bedroom. During this time, I was always writing songs but I admittedly was too shy to share them with the world. In 2012 I was invited to join my first band, Hexane, after a few of my friends heard me sing at karaoke one night. It’s not an unfamiliar scenario for a lot of people who like to sing: I sang a few songs and then my friends essentially said, „Oh wow! We had no idea you could sing like that!“. And that was the beginning of my becoming active in the music world. After the group I joined ultimately disbanded, I fell into some pretty hard times. I was in a cycling accident that nearly killed me, two people I love dearly passed away, and I found myself needing to find an outlet for all of the feelings that come with loss and grief. This also caused me to dive into a lot of philosophy books, which I read when I feel the need to try to make sense of the world. The near-death experience, as can be expected, definitely helped me reassess my priorities. I don’t come from a wealthy family and in my 20’s I was financially destitute, so my resources were limited. I started working as much as I could, sometimes 60 hour work weeks while working at three different jobs, so I could start buying decent gear. Once I acquired the things I needed, I started to write more songs, many of which were philosophical in nature because of what I was experiencing and reading, and I haven’t stopped since. It’s been a gradual development and one that I feel proud of at this point given all the obstacles I’ve managed to surpass. I’m forever excited to explore sound and see what I can come up with next and that’s what brings us here today.

What was the biggest difficulty for you while creating the album?
As with the karaoke story, this is also not a particularly unique anecdote. The pandemic proved to be a huge barrier for most things, including the entire process of bringing ‚Mother of Light’ to fruition. Recording started in September of 2019, just before I moved from Seattle to Oakland, CA. The plan was I would come back to Seattle in March of 2020 to finish recording. But we all know what happened in March of 2020 and needless to say there were a lot of setbacks from then on out. By the time recording was finished and everything was mixed and mastered and the record was pressed, two more years had passed and I had already moved back to Seattle somewhere in there. But hey, they say good things come to those who wait, and I really couldn’t be more pleased with how this record came out.

On your first album, you primarily play neofolk. What drew you to this style of music in particular?
For me, my greatest influence from the neofolk world is Current 93. While I feel my sound and approach are vastly different from David Tibet’s, I very much enjoy the solemn, poetic feel of his work and that’s what drew me to the genre. I’m also a fan of industrial music, so the connections to and influences from that spoke to me quite a bit, as well. As for the style itself, there’s always room for expansion. You can play a three or four chord song, but there’s space to add plenty of layers if you want. Songs that carry themselves without accompaniment, but lend themselves well to accompaniment… that appeals to me quite a bit as a singer/songwriter, especially since I enjoy having the option to play solo or with a full band. So at the end of the day, I wanted to write melancholy songs about human nature and loss, all with a heavy emphasis on love. All of this said, I do want to emphasize that I don’t consider SERPENTENT a „neofolk“ project. If I have to pick a genre — though I will say I don’t particularly want to be pigeonholed — calling it „dark folk“ makes the most sense to me because I’ve been connected to metal, punk, industrial, rock, and goth rock for decades and all of that directly impacts the tone and themes of the folk music I write.

Neofolk is quite a controversial genre – many of the bands shaping the style have been provocative with their far-right symbolism and dismissed criticism of it with rather flimsy explanations. What’s your take on the questionable aspects of the genre?
Given the sensitive nature of this topic, I do feel it’s important to first express that I am not right-wing, nor do I condone fascism. With that in mind, I think it’s a complex issue, so trying to summarize a take in a brief interview is daunting since I feel like this is a topic that warrants an entire dissertation. Considering that, based on my observations, it seems like some of the far-right symbolism was initially spawned from a ’77 punk approach. It was the next „extreme“ and offensive thing to do to get a rise out of people. There are photographs easily found online of Siouxsie Sioux and Sid Vicious sporting swastikas on their clothing and to the best of my knowledge The Banshees and The Sex Pistols haven’t been cancelled. I’m not making excuses, but I do think it’s an explanation. A lot of the people who emerged from the late 70’s punk scenes, several of whom were part of the early neofolk scene, were essentially some of the first „edgelords“ before the term ever existed. And I’ve never known an edgelord that didn’t dig their heels in further when you disagree with or challenge them, so I suspect that’s part of the issue. Though I can’t say as I think it’s that simple and I have no doubt some of those neofolk guys are actually fascists. Meanwhile, some of them seem to simply enjoy flirting with controversy and ambiguity. On that topic, there’s something highly adolescent and manipulative to me about intentionally trying to hit a nerve to get a reaction and then becoming defensive when you get the reaction you were expecting. As most of us seem to be aware, nowhere in the realm of free speech does it say that anyone has to accept everything you say or the art you create. At least GG Allin, The Mentors, and bands like that understood this reality. They got a rise out of people and they were stoked about being despised. Not that I’m a fan of them, but at least they were deliberate, knew there would be consequences, and simply didn’t care. Furthermore, other people have been open about their sordid pasts and recanted their former beliefs, while others can affirmatively say they never had anything to do with fascism or the far-right to begin with. Extreme music attracts „extreme“ people. Sometimes that turns out to be a great thing, sometimes it’s deeply problematic. And the longer I’ve been around, the more I can’t be shocked when I run into those that are problematic. I’m not happy about it, it’s absolutely disheartening, but I have found that it’s unavoidable. With every musical genre, every form of art, it’s always a mixed bag. It cannot be argued that the reality is the world has a few Harvey Weinsteins, Bill Cosbys, Vargs, Chris Browns, Scott Kellys… Picasso was a womanizer who reappropriated African art, Dali was purportedly a fascist sympathizer, Guaguin was a rapist, Eric Clapton is a racist, countless rock stars from the 70’s slept with underage girls, and the list could go on for entirely way too long. My point is that corruption, bigotry, racism, and misogyny is everywhere, and all we can do is try to sort through it and find the „diamonds in the rough“ so-to-speak.

In your opinion, to what extent has the style developed since its dubious beginnings?
I think the style has musically developed in a multitude of ways. There seems to be a handful of projects that incorporate more pop, post-punk, and/or alternative elements. There are some other projects that are also more straight-forward folk, as well, that still somewhat fall into the category. As for the subject matter, the numbers of people exploring some of the elements of neofolk while making a point of deliberately not being fascist/right wing are increasing. I think folklore, paganism, the occult, and various other subjects that have tragically been appropriated by a few bad seeds can and should be explored without it being seen as something politically nefarious. Thanks to late-stage-capitalism, the world only continues to become increasingly more and more homogenized and I think a lot of people are starved for culture, for the rituals that were common before christians/missionaries/colonizers forced people to stop practising them. I strongly believe that the disconnect from our pasts, from our ancestors, from one another, and from the earth, all coincide and I’m glad that there are people who want to navigate this territory with the understanding that it’s colonialism that brought us all to this place of detachment. I believe there is unity to be found in reclaiming what we can of that which has been lost.

Your songs are exceptionally long by the standards of the genre. What inspired you to write more expansive songs?
I love classical music, prog, and kraut rock. Less predictable structures, odd time signatures, variations on themes, etc… all of that has been magical to me from the moment I laid ears on these genres. Yes was one of the first bands (among many to follow) that made me want to write songs that sort of mimic the movements found in classical pieces. But also when I set out to write a song, I don’t necessarily think „I want to write an eleven minute long song today“. I let it happen organically and when it does happen I do quite enjoy the process.

How do you feel about people comparing your music to that of other artists – do you take pride in such associations, or do you perceive it as a denial of the uniqueness of your expression?
I take most comparisons as a compliment because I think that using comparison is generally the most accessible way for people to express that they appreciate your work. Unless, of course, someone’s using said comparison as an insult (laughs), which fortunately hasn’t happened yet. All that said, I don’t typically take pride in associations because I’m not seeking to sound like any one particular thing or person. Though there was a review I read that likened the piano in „Mother of Light“ to something Popol Vuh would’ve written and I was thrilled by that because I adore that band. I’ve noticed a few reviews where people don’t seem to notice or appreciate the more subtly psychedelic and meditative elements of some of these songs, so when someone picks up on my more obscure influences I do feel a sense of gratification. There are also a few comparisons that I’m not particularly fond of for no other reason than I fail to see the similarities and they miss the mark of what I’m seeking to do. But even still, I understand that people are simply seeking to draw parallels and voice that I’m doing something that reminds them of something they like, which I genuinely appreciate.

The title „Ancient Tomes, Volume I: Mother Of Light“ suggests that it is a concept album. However, the lyrics seem to be open to many interpretations. Can you elaborate a bit on what they are about?
The lyrics are intentionally open to many interpretations. When I write songs, I typically view them as a way of investigating scenarios, realities, and/or emotions that all humans experience. So while I, of course, am a part of that equation, because I’m living and I experience the same range of emotions everyone else does and drawing from that, I tend to be more philosophical and make things less about me and more about „us“, as in humankind in general. The lyrics tie into a novella I’m writing for the entire series/trilogy. Both lyrics and themes from each song tie into the narrative, which is about the death of Death. Each „volume“ represents each phase within that cycle of cause and effect.

Can you already reveal something about the sequel to be expected? Will there perhaps even be more than one?
„Mother of Light“, as an entity, is Death, and I refer to Death as the „Mother of Light“ because I’m exploring various philosophical paradoxes and cognitive dissonance. This first installment, or volume, is about Death dying. The second album is called, „Loam“, which will be about what happens next in the wake of Death dying. The last volume, „Ophidia“, will provide the conclusion of the storyline. The intention behind the trilogy is to investigate human nature, technology, and the long-term effects of global colonization on the planet as well as the human spirit and psyche. The ideas are largely inspired by the likes of Albert Camus, Georges Bataille, Carl Jung, and Jiddu Krishnamurti. There’s more that I would like to say but I don’t feel like I can reveal much more without spoiling it, so I hope this answer will suffice for the time being.

„Ой, ти місяцю“ stands out very clearly in the album with its Slavic female choir vocals. What is this rather strange a cappella piece all about?
„Mother of Light“ is complex in that it is densely laden with meaning and intention. As I’d mentioned before, I do incorporate my own experiences, so there are a few nods to both of my grandmothers in the record. They were both massive influences on me throughout my life and both of them are no longer here, so I wanted to pay tribute to them in my own way. My dad’s mom was from Ukraine and her story has played a major role in the way I move through the world. When I was a little girl I learned that she was only 17 when Kyiv was invaded by the Nazis and during that invasion her family was killed. She managed to escape and became a nurse for the Allied Nations and a few years later she met my grandfather, who was serving in the US Army in Germany. So I thought I would look into finding something to honor her and that part of who I am, of which I sadly know so little. How war can tear families apart and leave so many of us knowing nothing at all about possible distant relatives or the places to which we have ties is something I think about often. At any rate, the piece is intended only as an interlude of sorts. It’s featured halfway through the record, is fairly brief comparatively, but also the sound of it felt synonymous with something „ancient“, as per the title of the trilogy. I found the recording online and contacted the fellow who recorded it. I came to find out that he had recorded elders in villages throughout Ukraine singing old Ukrainian folk songs because he wanted to help preserve them, since the interest in such things has been in decline in recent years. I felt like since I’m exploring the death of things from the pre-modern world, it made the song even more appropriate to include.

However, this is not the only track on the record sung in a foreign language. In „Sonette an Orpheus: IV“ there’s a sample in German at the beginning and you yourself also sing in German later on. What is the reasoning behind this?
To the best of my knowledge, the sample at the beginning is the only known recording of Rainer Maria Rilke, in which he’s reciting his poem „Der Panther“ („The Panther“). Then the following song is the fourth sonnet in his book, „Sonnets to Orpheus“. I used these poems because I admire Rilke, both as a person as well as a writer. Plus, one day I was reading „Sonnets to Orpheus“ out loud to practice reading/speaking German and something about this fourth poem struck me, without even really knowing exactly what I was reading since I’m not yet fluent. When I read the translation, I decided I needed to use the poem as lyrics for a song. The poems themselves reflect much of the inner turmoil inside Death’s mind while she’s dying and contemplating the past as well as her attempt to accept what’s happening. I also wanted to find something in German as a nod to my other grandmother, whose father was from Germany. She spoke German very well and I grew up hearing it frequently. So I’ve always known little bits, but I’ve been gradually learning the language over the last few years because I’m an avid language enthusiast and hope to be a polyglot someday.

The album sounds very depressing over long stretches, but there also seem to be glimmers of hope every now and then. Especially the closing track „Rise & Fall“ seems quite encouraging. Was it a concern of yours during the songwriting process to cover different emotional states in the course of the album?
The intention was for the album to be somewhat dynamic. The subject matter isn’t particularly optimistic, but I’m a firm believer in creating somewhat of a balance. I think to explore dualities and paradoxes, there has to be a little bit of everything. Besides which, I suppose a lesson that stood out to me in school while reading Shakespeare was that even Shakespeare threw some jokes into his tragedies. Clearly I’m not making any jokes in the album, but I try to be mindful of the importance of breaking up some of the possible monotony when I’m conveying heavy concepts and ideas. Additionally, I’m a fan of foreshadowing, so there is a hint of that in the final track. Though the hope that you’re detecting there might not present itself in a way that you might expect.

What do you plan to do next with SERPENTENT?
I have most of the second album written. I have a few adjustments I’m working on, though, since some of my vision has changed slightly. But at some point next Spring I hope to record it. I was also accepted into an artist’s residency in Berlin next year, which I’m excited about, wherein I’ll be working on artwork and videography for that record. There are a few shows coming up, as well, but several haven’t been announced yet so I’m not at liberty to share them at this time. Though I can say I’m looking forward to playing with Kælan Mikla and Kanga at The Clockout Lounge in Seattle on 26 October.

Finally, a quick brainstorm. What do you think of first when reading the following keywords?
Prophecy Productions: Bethlehem
Mainstream: Generic
Cover versions: I’m generally a fan. I appreciate paying homage to those who inspire us.
Artistic identity: Can be authentically achieved when you stay true to yourself.
Romanticism: A crucial movement in the wake of the Industrial Revolution.
Suffering and art: They don’t have to be connected, one is not necessary for the other, but art is certainly cathartic in the face of adversity.

Publiziert am 27. September 2022 von Stephan Rajchl