Memphis-based singer/songwriter/pianist Louise Page is set to release her first solo album, Play Nice, this Saturday with a sold-out concert at Mollie Fontaine Lounge.
Since her debut with 2017’s Salt Mosaic, Page has charted her own path, crafting a unique chamber-pop sound over the course of her successive releases. She’s been a frequent star of the Flyer’s “Music Video Monday” series, and along with her band — complete with horn players, a violinist, and others — is a fixture of Memphis’ musical nightlife. So her absence has been felt keenly in the past 20 or so months of the necessarily pandemic-restricted live music landscape, making the release of her new album, recorded with engineer Calvin Lauber at Young Avenue Sound, a balm for fans who have missed her wit, piano prowess, and ethos of radical empathy.
In advance of Page’s album-release concert, I spoke with her about settling in to record a solo album, knuckle tats, overwork, grief and the healing process, and the importance of learning to play nice.
Memphis Flyer: Tell me about the title of the album. I’m sure “Play Nice” isn’t just a reference to your piano playing.
Louise Page: Definitely I wanted the first connotation to be piano playing, especially considering this is my first solo album without a band and it is therefore very piano heavy. “Play Nice” is pulled out of the lyrics of my song “Treatment” — which was released on my 2019 album Silver Daughter, and is on this album in a fresh solo form. The lyric is “Most people are broken or breaking so try to play nice.” So it’s a reference to moving through the world with kindness, a reference to my piano playing, and a reference to the song “Treatment” which is all about healing. Also, if I were to ever get knuckle tats, they would say “PLAY NICE.” That is probably never gonna happen, so I’ll use it for an album title instead.
What made you want to record a solo album?
There were several reasons, some artistic and some practical. I wrote all of these songs in my bedroom in the breadbox tiny one-bedroom Midtown apartment I lived in at the beginning of the pandemic, mostly in April and May. They are solitary songs, they are very personal, and they were written to be solo tunes — just me and the piano. The past two albums I released, Simple Sugar and Silver Daughter, were both written with both my band and my audience in mind. I intentionally made those albums full of songs that would be fun to dance to, fun to add horns and strings and percussion to, fun to play to a crowd. These songs were a little different — I didn’t necessarily write them thinking about playing to a big crowd. I felt so removed from crowds and parties and shows when I wrote them. I wrote these by myself, in quiet introspective moments, and they are intended to be listened to by oneself in quiet introspective moments. I think the ideal listening experience for this album would be in a bubble bath by yourself with a glass of wine, or a cup of tea, or a joint, and nothing but time.
The pandemic also created practical reasons for recording a solo album — for starters, recording is really expensive, and the more moving parts you add the more expensive it ends up being. The solo album was far more in my budget with all the work and money I lost in 2020. It also just felt a lot safer, in 2020, to get into the studio with just one other person instead of a whole crew. Shoutout to Calvin Lauber for recording this with me, I can’t thank you enough for your support.
The final reason it was important for me to record a solo album is because genuinely about half the shows I play are solo shows, and I wanted some recorded streamable discography that reflected that facet of my work.
Playing with a band helps fill in the gaps in a song. Did it make you nervous to put yourself out there so much?
Yes! Very nervous, I am so nervous about this album honestly. I recorded it almost a year ago and sat on it for this long because I was afraid to release it. I struggle with depression, and for a lot of 2021 I kind of had these songs shelved away, because I was overwhelmed at the prospect of offering my little pandemic brainchildren up to the rest of the world for consumption and critique. It felt scary. But I have moved past that fear. I love the songs, and they are special to me, and at the end of the day that’s what’s important. But I do hope someone else will love them and find them special too. Sharing my music and connecting with others is part of what makes music so special to me.
Are there any songs that feel like stand-outs to you? Or that you’re particularly excited for people to hear?
Honestly all the new stuff, I’m really excited and proud of it. “Plastic Crowns” is a really different track for me and it opens the album. I wanted it to be hypnotic, and kind of put the listener into a trance that would set the tone for the rest of the album. Very fond of that song. I am also personally very fond of “Little Icarus,” which explores relationships, trust issues, the unintended ways we isolate ourselves from or hurt the ones we love, and the connection between love and pain.
What should fans expect from the album release show?
I wanted the release show to reflect the intimacy of the album. It will be very beautiful. I am so happy to be playing at Mollie Fontaine Lounge, which is a stunning venue with a gorgeous baby grand piano. I am going to play through my album, as well as some other new unreleased and unrecorded material. After I perform, DJ Chandler Blingg will spin a fun dancey DJ set and we will all celebrate! There will also be exclusive event merch available. I am so honored to say this show has sold out, which is amazing, so it seems like there is some good positive energy and enthusiasm brewing already.
Every story is a pandemic story these days. What have the last 20 or so months been like for you? It seems like every time I look, you’re in a music video or on tour or releasing an album or single — was it hard to slow down?
That is genuinely so sweet of you to say because from my end it has not felt that way [laughs]. I have tried my best. I learned some big lessons with the pandemic — pre-pandemic I was without a doubt a workaholic. So losing so many shows and gigs and opportunities was honestly devastating for me. I felt like I had worked so hard for so long to gain a little bit of momentum, and then out of nowhere it was taken from me. I spent large swaths of 2020 incredibly depressed and living on my couch watching TV. There are probably months where that’s all I did. I was afraid, I missed my immediate family who lived together in Pennsylvania, and I was questioning my career choice. I mourned, absolutely mourned not being able to play live in-person shows, which is my passion in this life and my absolute favorite thing to do. So yes, it was hard to slow down. But once I was slowed down and depressed, it felt hard to do anything. So I guess I’m happy that from the outside looking in it seemed like I got a lot done, because it didn’t feel that way to me! [laughs] My mental health has been steadily improving this year, thankfully. And one thing I did take from the pandemic was that I was overworking myself in 2018 and 2019, and I need to slow down. I’m my own boss, and I am allowed to give myself days off!
Would you talk a little bit about your single “In Lieu of Flowers”? I know it’s been out for a while, but I love it.
Thank you so much! “In Lieu of Flowers” is actually not on this album — it’s a stand alone single — but I may include it as a bonus track on the CD. “In Lieu of Flowers” is incredibly personal to me. In 2013 a dear friend of mine passed away from a heroin overdose. I was a sophomore in college, and absolutely devastated. I’m honestly still absolutely devastated. I, and several of his friends, read short eulogies at his funeral. And I just remember thinking — there is nothing I can write or do or say in this moment that could ever convey the horror and tragedy of losing this bright young wonderful person who should still be with us. Who am I to look into the faces of his family and say anything? It was genuinely one of the saddest things I’ve ever been through. It took me seven years to write a song about it because I wasn’t ready. We recorded “In Lieu of Flowers” in January of 2020, and I sat on it until December. I released it on New Year’s Eve because I promised myself I would release it in 2020. Much like “Play Nice” — I sat on “In Lieu of Flowers” for almost a year because it was just so personal, I was petrified at the thought of it not belonging to me alone anymore. I also really care about my friend and his family, and I in no way wanted anything about the song to come off as disrespectful, so I really agonized over releasing it at all, honestly. But ultimately I’m glad I did. In short, the song is about grief. And my friend, Knight, was an amazing bass player — the beautiful bass solo by Gunter Gaupp is an homage to that. I really do feel like Knight was with me when I wrote that song, his spirit is in it, and all the love in my heart for him is in it, and I hope he would like it.
Is there anything on the horizon you can talk about?
After this release I am chillin’ with my family for the holidays! Excited to slow down, although I do have a full band album cooking in my brain that I would love to record and release in 2022. I will be playing a song off of that future release at the album release tomorrow, as a treat. I also recorded an electronic dreamy song, different from much of my work, with my friend Blair Davis at Young Avenue Sound earlier this year. It’s called “Sunday Forever” and we are tentatively planning to release it in December. I’m excited to share that with everyone.
Is there anything else you would like people to know?
Most people are broken or breaking so try to play nice.
