Natalie Lew has made a fairly big splash before releasing her debut album as Sea Lemon, thanks to a pair of bedroom-pop shoegaze EPs, collaborations with Ben Gibbard and Day Wave, and confirmed opening slots for American Football and Gibbard’s Death Cab for Cutie. Yet the upcoming Diving for a Prize delivers on the hype inherent in these early-career accomplishments, with Lew tightening the screws on her blissful dream-pop sound across these 12 songs shaped by an upbringing in the Pacific Northwest and her return to the region at the onset of COVID when the project initially took off, after spending some time in NYC.
On the album’s latest single, “Give In,” Lew exemplifies her ability to turn a relatable sense of anxiety into cool-as-a-sea-cucumber pop songs with her heart visibly glowing through the reverb’s haze. This track in particular chronicles the songwriter’s longstanding battle with intrusive thoughts, which at one point in her life culminated in an intense desire to explore abandoned houses. “‘Give In’ is about giving into the intrusive thoughts, and the relief and the consequences that happen after,” she explains. “The song was written in an afternoon in my producer [Andy Park]’s studio, and was probably the fastest song from initially writing to execution.”
Check out the video for the track below, and pre-order Diving for a Prize ahead of its May 30 release via Luminelle Recordings here. You can also read on for a brief Q&A with Sea Lemon.
How do you think Diving for a Prize might have turned out different if you didn’t grow up in the Pacific Northwest, or remained in NYC?
Honestly if I never left NYC it’s hard to imagine I’d be making music the way I am today! I really found music as a solace during the pandemic while I was isolating in the gloomy PNW—with nothing else to do, I practiced my songwriting, took mixing classes, etc. So in that way, I’m so grateful I made the decision to move back to the PNW. From a soundscape perspective, I think a lot of the bands that came out of the PNW have really influenced my sound, both intentionally and unintentionally, with bands like Death Cab for Cutie and Say Hi as prime examples.
What do you consider to be the biggest changes in your sound between the new LP and your previous EPs?
While making my new LP, I was really inspired to make songs unlike anything I’d released before. Songs like “Sweet Anecdote” (and upcoming tracks from Diving for a Prize, “Blue Moon” and “Silver”) feel like part of the same sonic universe, but new departures from what I’ve done as Sea Lemon. I think there’s something really special in feeling inspired to tell a whole story in an LP, rather than a few short stories set to singles. An amazing group of folks worked on this record—primarily, Andy Park, my producer and mixer, who always pushed me to write and record more interesting, dynamic parts and try new weird instruments (we physically pushed tape outside of a tape machine and recorded it for one of the tracks).
You note that “Give In” is an expression of intrusive thoughts and their consequences, though to me it sounds purely blissful. What part do you see anxiety playing in your music?
I think anxiety is often what gets me to write music in the first place. Like, if I’m anxious about the news or about a friendship, I’ll sit down and write music as some type of relief. Anxiety can be a very powerful catalyst, in my experience. It’s also validating to me, in a lot of ways, that your reaction is that the song feels blissful: that sort of blissful release once trying something you were afraid to try is definitely a feeling that inspired this song.
Do you see any connection between the anxiety of finally entering an abandoned house and releasing your first album, or touring with bands like Death Cab or American Football?
I think in certain anxious situations (like in “Give In”), there’s something so satisfying and relieving about finally doing something you’ve been unsure about. In a really positive way, I’ve been ramping up making music the last few years and working on these songs, all leading to this record and these very special shows, and so it’s got that similar twinge of satisfaction.
Do you still get intrusive thoughts about entering abandoned houses? Or does some of the intrigue subside once you’ve experienced the reality?
As a kid, there were a few houses a few neighborhoods away that were completely abandoned and had been overtaken by nature. Those spaces fascinated me and felt like I was uncovering some sort of huge secret (I was also so obsessed with the Bermuda Triangle as a child), and that feeling to explore spaces that might lead to weird or unexpected consequences has stuck with me today. These days, I’m generally doing a little less entering of abandoned houses, but there are a lot of other things that give me a similar hot, intense, and immediate instinctual craving to discover.
