Eliana Glass’s new album, E, is the music of secret lives and shadows. The New York-based singer-songwriter weaves unexpected, otherworldly melodies that slither through smoky sonic corridors with hypnotic grace. Her piano work flickers between moments of introspective stillness and sudden propulsion, never lingering in one place for long. Glass’s lyrics feel like esoteric daggers, enigmatic at first, but their impact deepens over time, revealing hidden layers. E is both restrained and powerful, a haunting, slow-blooming force that lingers long after the final note, as we drift further into the night.
E will be released on April 25 by Shelter Press. Pre-order HERE.
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As always, to start, let’s go all the way back. What are some of your earliest memories related to music and sound? Was there a lot of music around you and in the house growing up?
My parents played music all the time growing up. All different music, they listened to Nick Cave, Tom Waits, John Cale, Jimmy Smith, Nina Simone, REM. Each Sunday morning my dad would play the sacred music of Duke Ellington, and even still when I go home this is the case. When I was really young in Brisbane, there were all kinds of beautiful and strange bird sounds that I grew up listening to, the laugh of a kookaburra for example.
You describe your relationship with the piano as a lifelong one—can you talk about your earliest memories of the instrument and how they shaped your musical identity?
The piano I grew up with was my mother’s piano, which was given to her as a child in the will of a neighbor that she used to play for growing up. It’s a very old piano with real ivory keys. I always loved that story and the image of my mom being given the piano, that would then go on to shape so much of my life and my brothers too without her knowing it at the time. I think about the relationship with the piano as being one that is lifelong, because it extends its life so far and to so many people.
What drew you to Brazilian music, and how has singing in Portuguese influenced your vocal phrasing and compositional style?
I love how for many Brazilian singers, there isn’t much vibrato. It’s more of a straight tone. I think that has influenced my approach to voice and singing. This approach has the effect of feeling sort of feels like the person is talking to you, with no embellishments, just as is. I love that. João Gilberto and Elis Regina come to mind.
You’ve called E a “condensation of everyday life.” What does that mean to you, and how did you translate that concept into sound?
I think I just see that as what music and art are in a lot of ways, a kind of filtering of your daily experiences, feelings, and your own imagination. Sort of like dreams.
The album took shape over four years and in multiple cities. How did recording in different locations (Nashville, Brooklyn, Memphis, Benton Harbor) impact the sound and feel of the record?
The opportunity to record at all those different locations and studios would have never been possible without Francis Harris who produced E. Francis really loved the idea of recording in places that had history, equipment touched by prior musicians and engineers. In each studio, we got to use specialized hardware and instruments, like a Leslie which we put my voice through, and Bill Skibbe’s special compressors. Both Francis and Bill were really interested in the spirit that comes from those studios, which is then imbued in the music. It was an experience of recording music I had never imagined or considered, and I am grateful to have been exposed to it.
Many of your songs explore memory, past lives, and the passage of time. What fascinates you about these themes, and how do they inform your songwriting?
I think this goes back to the condensation of everyday life. I have a line in Solid Stone that says “I ride home in the cab” – this holds a certain feeling that only I know about from that moment in time, which to me means something when I hear it and has the ability to transport me back to that time.
You perform both solo and with a band. How do those experiences differ, and what do you enjoy about each?
I love playing alone, it feels very natural to me. I also love having people to fall back on and playing in the context of a band, it’s reassuring. It can be hard to perform alone and even isolating in moments. I think you have to be really in touch with yourself. On the other hand, I think I struggle playing in bands because often my music doesn’t have a clear sense of time, and I write the music only with myself in mind, and don’t often account for other instruments.
Improvisation seems to be a key part of your practice. How do you balance structure and spontaneity in your performances?
All of my songs have certain structures that I like to follow. Sometimes I like to sing a song the exact way I did before, for a specific reason, sometimes I am on automatic pilot when performing, which I don’t want to be. Sometimes I like to stray away from the old ways to sort of feel free. Adopting new ways of singing old songs is something I really believe in, and I see it as a natural tool for improvisation. One of my favorite ways to improvise is with my friend Anthony Pearlman who is a beautiful pianist. We sometimes play Monk’s “Ruby My Dear”. I never liked the lyrics set to the song, so while he plays it I make up the words, as we go. I like doing this live the best because I love the idea of the audience trying to figure out the song at the same time as I am.
In addition to music, you’re an accomplished visual artist. Do your visual and musical practices inform each other?
That’s so nice, I love visual art because it’s more physical than music. Yes, they do inform each other, and I think they both offer a break from each other. I find that I have to be creative because it’s just a part of who I am, if I’m not I tend to not feel like myself. Creativity can be deeply unfulfilling a lot of the time. So you have to kind of go easy on yourself, let things happen, and work on something else in the interim. It’s sort of like singing and playing piano at the same time, it gives you the chance to do whatever you are taking a break from better and without the pressure. And vice versa.
If you could create a visual representation of E, what would it look like?
There’s an old picture of me as an 8-year-old in my room where I am standing next to my bed, with my CD player, and I am pointing at the camera with one hand smiling.
To close, as ever, what are some of your favorite sounds in the world?
The sound of the wind, cicadas, and the sound of sheep herder’s bells. The harmony or dissonance of a passing train. I also love the sound of people talking in a room next to me.
Foxy Digitalis depends on our awesome readers to keep things rolling. Pledge your support today via our Patreon or subscribe to The Jewel Garden. You can also make a one-time donation via Ko-fi.
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