Pom Pom Squad Walk Us Through Their Re-Centered Sophomore LP “Mirror Starts Moving Without Me”

Mia Berrin shares how leaning into boredom helped her complete this 10-song follow-up to 2021’s Death of a Cheerleader.
Track by Track

Pom Pom Squad Walk Us Through Their Re-Centered Sophomore LP Mirror Starts Moving Without Me

Mia Berrin shares how leaning into boredom helped her complete this 10-song follow-up to 2021’s Death of a Cheerleader.

Words: Mike LeSuer

Photo: Eliza Jouin

October 25, 2024

After following through on the promises made by a pair of late-’10s EPs with Death of a Cheerleader in 2021, Mia Berrin’s Pom Pom Squad was mostly quiet over the course of the following two years. To hear her tell it, the period was rife with the form of writer’s block that tends to set in as soon as expectations get heaped onto an artist following the release of a well-received debut. On the one hand, every idea that came to Berrin felt a little too self-serious for a project that’s never been above the satire, quirkiness, and even kitsch of Jamie Babbit’s cult queer-romcom that lends equal focus to cheerleaders; on the other, the record became Berrin’s outlet for “re-centering, being present, and focusing on what’s important” in the time since the release of her debut.

The result, then, is a happy medium between these poles—the eerie album title Mirror Starts Moving Without Me betrays the songs’ out-of-body anxieties, though frequent references to Alice in Wonderland and a single named after a classic Capcom arcade game indicate the band’s ability to stay loose on these tracks. Despite the maximalist-pop of songs like “Street Fighter,” though, Berrin notes that she was ultimately able to achieve a sense of clarity through depriving herself of the stimulation brought upon her by constant subjection to music and TV. “One of the best pieces of advice I’ve ever heard is that artists need time to be bored,” she shares. “I find that doing something tedious makes my mind dreamy and active—it allows lyrics and melodies to come to me more easily.”

With the record out now via City Slang, Berrin took us deeper into all 10 tracks with the breakdown below. Check it out, and purchase the record here.

1. “Downhill”
When I wrote the first lines of “Downhill,” I knew it was going to be the album opener. Obviously it’s a bit cheeky to start an album with the line “Looks like downhill from here,” but it’s also like falling down the rabbit hole in Alice in Wonderland—like being thrust into this new, unfamiliar space. I stumbled a lot in the process of writing a follow up to Death of a Cheerleader. I felt creatively blocked for a while. I tend to over-intellectualize creative choices or get in the weeds thinking about aesthetic or genre or what I think people want from me. When I demoed “Downhill” I tried to be as intuitive as possible. I knew I wanted to make something dark and dance-y, but otherwise I tried to put structure or genre out of my head. I spent hours scrolling through Logic synth plugins and trying out sounds until something felt right. The song still went through a lengthy editing process, but a lot of the sounds from the demo made their way into the final product, which makes me very happy. 

2. “Spinning”
I started writing this song a few years ago in a session with Jessica Boudreaux and Becca Ryskalczyk. We met up in a studio in Brooklyn and they showed me some demo tracks they’d been working on. What really drew me to the one that would become “Spinning” was the piano. Somehow it sounded the way it feels to fall backwards into water. At that point in my life I was really craving that feeling—like the scene in The Graduate where Ben sinks to the bottom of the swimming pool. Everything goes quiet and there’s a brief, breathless, moment of respite from the chaos of life on the surface. I feel really lucky that I got to actualize that image in the music video.

3. “Street Fighter”
I wrote this song with Cody Fitzgerald, who also co-produced Mirror with me. When we were messing around with synths we came across one that sounded like something out of Street Fighter—one of my favorite games growing up. Unfortunately that synth didn’t make the final cut, but we kept calling the demo “Street Fighter” and stuck with the theme. Lyrically, I just tried to embrace writing something a little stupid. I pulled an all-nighter finishing the lead vocals and lyrics the night before our final deadline. I was delirious from lack of sleep and desperate to just get something on the page. The pressure and lack of inhibition allowed me to just have fun and be goofy with it. At first I was really embarrassed by the lyrics, but taking a step back from it I think they’re really funny and I’m proud of the wordplay. Also, I always love hearing the sample of my mom at the start of the song. 

4. “Everybody’s Moving On”
This was the song that cracked open the album for me. My favorite part of the song is the second verse: “Saw my own reflection on the TV / Staring down at me from outside of my body / Everything I wanted for / I don’t want it anymore / As I’m watching myself watching myself watch me.” I’ve talked in interviews before about this split-brain mentality I experience where it feels like I’m in my body but also zoomed out watching myself in the third person. Often when I’m editing photos or videos of myself, I refer to the person on the screen as “her” instead of “me”—as if we’re two completely different people. When everybody else moves on, I’m still stuck with her on the other side of the mirror, for better or worse. 

5. “Villain”
When I was writing “Villain” I was holding onto a lot of anger that needed to be externalized. Anger can be such a self-serious emotion, so I was glad that ultimately this song turned out kind of silly. For a while, every lyric I wrote felt stilted, so I tried to recast myself as a fictional final girl on her way to get vengeance and wrote from that perspective instead. It feels really garish and goofy in some ways, but it’s so much fun to perform. It fits into a familiar zone in the PPS discography alongside songs like “Lux,” “Shame Reactions,” and “Cake,” but more a bit more theatrical. 

6. “Running From Myself”
I wrote “Running” about keeping yourself constantly distracted so you don’t have to process your feelings. One of the best pieces of advice I’ve ever heard is that artists need time to be bored. I find that doing something tedious makes my mind dreamy and active—it allows lyrics and melodies to come to me more easily. On the other hand, being bored can bring all those difficult feelings to the surface. For a whole year I kept myself constantly distracted so I didn’t have to face my feelings. Around this time I also went through a long spell of writer’s block. The TV always had to be on, or music always had to be playing. I slept with headphones on so I didn’t have to have a single moment alone with my thoughts. Unfortunately, the thing about difficult feelings is that they’ll always find a way to come to the surface. I’m grateful to have written these songs as an outlet. It was the most emotionally taxing creative experience I’ve ever had, and my process has changed so much because of that. 

7. “Messages”
I don’t necessarily subscribe to any religion, but I’m definitely “spiritual.” I started writing this song on a week-long trip to LA. I was in a particularly low place mentally, and everytime I started to feel hopeless I’d experience a moment of synchronicity. I was telling my best friend about an obscure song from my childhood while we walked to a coffee shop one morning, and as we waited in line it started to play. I started seeing angel numbers everywhere—it seemed like everytime I went to check my phone it was 1:11, 11:11, or 3:33. I did tarot readings and, no matter how much I shuffled the deck, I would draw the same card over and over. The first line I wrote for this song was “They move with me like specters / Like my mothers / Like protectors,” because I truly felt like some greater force was watching over me, guiding me forward.

8. “Montauk”
I wrote “Montauk” for my partner of six years. We went on a trip there with her parents a few years ago and we spent the weekend eating, drinking, and wandering around. At night my partner and I would sneak off to sit on the beach and look at the stars. It’s a moment of levity on the album about re-centering, being present, and focusing on what’s important. 

9. “Doll Song”
“Doll” is the oldest song on the album. I wrote it between [my 2019 EP Ow] and Cheerleader, but it didn’t feel quite right for either project. We recorded this song over 3 sessions: one at Studio G in Brooklyn with Sarah Tudzin, and two at Electric Lady. I wanted the melody to have a lullaby quality to it. When I was writing it, every time I got to the bridge I’d instinctually start singing the chorus of “My Favorite Things” from Sound of Music, so I ended up sampling it. It’s the most instrumentally dense song on the album. There’s tracks upon tracks of piano, guitar, and strings. On Cheerleader I was inspired by the wall-of-sound style of production, and I love incorporating orchestral instruments whenever I can. One of my favorite details in the song is the music box sounds in the bridge. 

(10. “Tarot Interlude”)

11. “The Tower”
The first lines of “Tower” popped into my head as I was standing alone in the kitchen of my empty apartment. It was a rare moment in my year of distraction where I had no choice but to be alone with my thoughts. I sang the melody into my voice notes and felt, out of nowhere, a tear roll down my face. It felt like my body was trying to tell me something my mind wasn’t ready to comprehend. I then shelved the song for a year. As the album was starting to develop I decided to revisit it. It feels like the heart of the album, in a way. The drop from the bridge into the outro might be my favorite production moment on the album. It makes me cry every time I hear it.