‘You can’t escape or you’re completely alone’: Tusks on making new album Gold

Emily Underhill, aka Tusks, opens up to Headliner about the making of her new album Gold, the contrasting and conflicting circumstances that informed its creation, and how she has learned to harness the cathartic power of songwriting…

Tucked away in a corner booth of London’s Soho Theatre Café, Headliner awaits the arrival of Emily Underhill, perhaps better known by her artist moniker Tusks, who is joining us for what will prove to be a far-reaching, in-depth chat about the unique circumstances that spawned her new album Gold. Released on April 12, Gold is a breath-taking piece of work in its own right, free from the context in which it is couched. But given the chaotic personal and professional conditions from which it was born, it is an achievement rendered all the more remarkable.

Her third album to date, it is a record that ebbs and flows with moments of synth heavy bombast and minimalist beats, building on its predecessors (2017’s Dissolve and 2019’s Avalanche) with a greater sense of musical cohesion and sonic complexity. The story behind its creation is a compelling one, fuelled by a series of contrasting and contradicting events that set its release back several years.

“It was a funny time,” Underhill begins with a half laugh, half sigh, as she takes her seat opposite us in the booth. An immediately engaging presence, she is willing to talk at length about a range of subjects, from the tumultuous time surrounding the album, to politics, what she’s been listening to of late - namely the new Marika Hackman album Big Sigh - watching Goggle Box, and more.

“It was early 2020,” she continues, explaining the origins of Gold. “I was writing loads of music and thought I had an album that’d be ready by the end of 2020. But obviously the pandemic happened, and it went on for so long and there was such chaos in the music industry, so I just kept rewriting and rewriting and rewriting. By the time I actually started writing the songs that are now on the album, I guess it would have been the start of 2022.

“I say it was a funny time because I was in a situation where I was locked down while living in a warehouse with 12 other people in the middle of Manor House, right next to the main road [laughs]. I was in lockdown and surrounded by people, never alone. So when things started opening up and you could move, I went down to this little remote part of Devon where I didn't see anyone for four days at a time and did a lot of the writing there. I’d be back and forth between there and London, so a lot of the album was written between being in these hectic social situations where you either can't escape or you’re completely alone.”

Inevitably, the dichotomy between complete isolation and crowded living profoundly influenced Underhill’s writing process.

“I felt like everything bubbled up in my mind when I was in London, but when I went down to Devon, I had the freedom and space and quietness to just record it,” she explains. “I was in a tiny little cottage, and you can just walk along the cliffs, light a fire. It's a really magical space. I am someone that likes quiet and nature, and it was such an inspirational place to be to just write loads of music.

“At the same time I was also going through a breakup and then, shortly after, I was falling in love with someone else… so the whole album just ended up feeling like all these vast contrasts between being in a really hectic social situation in the middle of the city in the middle of lockdown, to being in the middle of the countryside, completely alone, breaking up one relationship, falling in love in another relationship… it was such an uncertain time and the album was like an anchor through all of that. It was just like, OK, write about it, and that will help me deal with all this confusion that's going on.”

Despite the volatile nature of the period Underhill describes, she addresses even the most challenging moments with a coolness and a calmness that is mirrored in the album’s production. Its contrasting sonic threads are seamlessly, meticulously interwoven, resulting in a record that is at once incredibly dynamic and entirely cohesive.

“The fact that the album was going to feature these big contrasting moments was something that became apparent as we were going along,” she says. “It's almost like your subconscious is making them happen and you only become conscious of them towards the end. Naturally, I really wanted to have big contrasts in the production, being really low-fi and really high-fi at different points. I wanted moments with as much instrumentation as we could get into one song, and then I would completely strip another song to the bare bones. I think it’s a subconscious thing. Sometimes it’s not until you're thinking and talking about the album once it’s finished that you realise these things.”

As we broach the personal nature of the lyrics on Gold, Underhill cites her previous two albums, particularly Avalanche, as paving the way for what she has accomplished with album number three. Over the course of these records, she says that what began as a fear of baring her soul in public has now become an almost therapeutic process.

“I’m writing about a difficult time, but it wasn’t really a difficult album to write,” she states. “I feel like I broke that barrier with the first two albums. Especially the second one, which I was really nervous about. There was a lot about mental health in there and I was very nervous about putting that out and being so blasé with talking about it. It felt quite overwhelming, but then it quickly took away a lot of the feelings of fear of being judged or feeling shameful. It’s like you’re taking some control of the situation. So getting over that hurdle made this one feel easy in comparison.”

She continues: “I find it very cathartic writing about those things. Something like going through a breakup is incredibly painful, and I feel like the one good thing you can get out of it is putting it into a piece of art. And potentially someone else can find it cathartic if they're going through the same thing.

“One of the songs that was about the breakup is Strangers, which has this really heavy middle eight where you just go crazy. I think that's a very cathartic way to get out the angst of going through something like that. And writing it down in lyrics kind of clarifies things a little bit for you.”

One of the songs that veers away from the more intimate subjects reflected on the record is the title track. Born out of anger at the UK government’s handling of the pandemic, it sees Underhill take aim at the notion of corruption without consequence. Indeed, it is the only time during our conversation in which her mood shifts, as frustration becomes detectable in both her tone and demeanour.

“That song came from the frustration at seeing these PPI contracts going to Tory donors. I have friends and family who work in the NHS and knowing the struggle they were going through...” she takes a moment to pause. “I've always been sceptical of our government, and especially the Tory party, but I think that was another level where I was like, what is going on?! I couldn't believe there were no repercussions. And there are still no repercussions. And there was ‘partygate’ and everything that came out of that. It was just despair at the whole situation.”

With almost four years having passed since Gold’s inception, Underhill cannot wait for people to finally hear the record. As we wrap up our time together, she is set to embark on a mini tour ahead of the album’s release, including some in-store performances, before heading out on a full tour later in the year. As for new music, she’s already formulating ideas, hoping the waitn to release album number four won’t be quite so long.

“It's a bit surreal,” she smiles, as we finish our drinks and depart the warmth of the Soho Theatre Café for the February drizzle outside. “I want to celebrate the fact that it’s finally coming out, as I’ve lived it for a long time and it's not new to me anymore. I think it's important to realize that it is new in the world, because it almost feels like it came out yeah 18 months ago to me. It’s a strange thing. I saw an interview recently with Marika Hackman and she summed the process up quite nicely, saying it's like Christmas - there's loads and loads of build up to it, it happens, and then it's gone."