From the opening grunge-guitar chugs of Lawn Girl’s first track “Forsythia,” it’s pretty evident that Miranda Winters’ debut album as Mandy has much more in common with Melkbelly—the noise-rock (mostly) sibling band she’s fronted for a decade at this point—than it does the solo path she set out on in 2018 under her own name with the cryptic minimalism of Xobeci, What Grows Here? Which isn’t to say that Winters is introducing a new direction for that band (her new LP happens to coincide with Melkbelly’s first new singles in four years which are, for lack of a better term, very Melky)—as Lawn Girl’s lead single “High School Boyfriend” suggests with its all-female chorus of backing vocalists belting out the song’s title, the release is still a far cry from the shades of brutal-prog and Chippendale-esque drumming of Winters’ primary outlet.
Which begs the question of influences for a record that feels distinctly the product of its creator yet wholly unique within her discography. Aside from thematic references to mother- (and daughter-) hood and a sense of creative and personal rebirth, there are elements of Winters’ community embedded in Lawn Girl, whether that be the local Chicago scene she’s been sharing stages with all these years or her recent label home of Exploding in Sound with whom she shares a penchant for toughened post-hardcore riffing. Add a bit of witchy spellcasting from a couple of iconic songwriting figures like Donovan and Kate Bush and the Lawn Girl formula is mostly spelled out for the listener.
With the LP arriving this Friday via EIS, Winters went a little deeper on those influences, citing 17 tracks that she visited internally while composing the record. Check out her picks below, and pre-order Lawn Girl here.
Donovan, “Peregrine”
This is an artist I’ve loved for a long time. The art from all of his records were an inspiration for the visual art of Lawn Girl. I love his Celtic-witchness and his melodies.
Rat Tally, “Longshot”
Fuzz 10/10. I want more music like this.
Sonic Youth, “Bull in the Heather”
Kim Gordon is a mother and a painter and a world class lyricist/vocalist who has managed to balance life and art—an inspiration.
Disq, “The Hardest Part”
A+ hook and a great song to dissociate to. The soundtrack I had going when I was making Lawn Girl turned into a place I could visit internally, and this was one of the first songs there.
Luiz Bonfá, “Pernambuco”
It’s nice to have moments within a band or a song where you pull back. It makes the next move hit harder. I’d say the same goes for the process of listening. I have to have some laid back touchstones. Luiz Bonfá is one of those.
Shady Bug, “Zero Expectations”
I’m a Bug Head—I love Shady Bug and listen to them constantly. It’s always nice when music you love is made by truly kind people.
Connie Converse, “Talkin’ Like You (Two Tall Mountains)”
This song is intimate, and I appreciate the blinders I’m able to put up when it comes on. As I age I relate to this idea of not being lonely, even when in Lonesome, USA.
Jib Kidder, “Ya’ll Want That Drell”
This makes me think of home: Providence, RI.
Trace Mountains, “Absurdity”
This song is visceral in a way that makes me feel like I’m standing outside in the woods.
The Vaselines, “Son of a Gun”
“Son of a Gun” sounds the way it feels to breathe through a harmonica. And that makes me want to be in the sun and write new music.
Maneka feat. Katie Capri, “Power”
Devin McKnight has one of my most favorite singing voices of all time. The fact that he’s a phenomenal songwriter is a bonus.
feeble little horse, “Chores”
If it feels good, do it.
Pre, “Drool”
I first found out about Pre when my old two-piece Slutbarf played with them. The energy contained in the track can help even the most floaty complete their tasks.
NNAMDÏ, “Flowers to My Demons”
This song does a lot of internal landscaping for me.
Kate Bush, “Waking the Witch”
Sometimes I’m sleepy and I need to be woken up by a true Legend.
Art Moore, “Muscle Memory”
I wonder what kind of microphone was used to record these vocals. The finish on this song is attractively dusty. Listen to it.
Mode Hexe, “Le Mom de La”
This guy has inspirational creativity and drive—I’m glad he’s my bandmate. The whole album really brings you to a place outside of yourself, and there’s something about this one I find centering.
