It’s only been two years since Nashville-based songwriter Elke released her second album of maximalist pop, Divine Urge, yet clearly plenty has changed for Kayla Graninger. Her follow-up record Big Mike reins things in significantly, with the recent passing of Graninger’s father inspiring a far more introspective and nostalgic bent to the lyrics that’s consistently reflected in the folky, art-pop instrumentals. The music is still upbeat, though there’s a sense of longing foregrounded in Elke’s vocals—longing for the past, for a happy ending, for a sense of home.
It’s no wonder that the mood board for Big Mike feels significantly altered from those of Elke’s previous records. A few of the record’s songs were recorded in the middle of the woods outside of Nashville, with that cozy and lonesome feel being matched by references to Sofia Coppola’s The Virgin Suicides adaptation and its score by Air, as well as the fiction of Ursula K. Le Guin and the pastoral baroque-pop of Kate Bush (Jaws and Cheers get shouted out, too, but you may need to do a big more digging to understand how they influenced the record). Beyond anything else, though, it’s Graninger’s search for a personal definition to the word “home” that directs and unifies these songs, whether it be a rotisserie chicken waiting for you on the dining room table or merely someone two time zones away drawing your attention to the one object you share a view of.
With the album out today via Congrats Records, check out Elke’s full track-by-track breakdown of Big Mike below. You can also order a copy here.
1. “Pusher”
“Pusher” was born in a moment of being alone with a piano and a daydream of escaping a faulty cycle in a relationship. I didn’t write it to be on a record, but recorded it when that string melody in the second half of the song came to my mind—it gave the song a consciousness. [Producer Thad Kopec] transformed a guitar into an instrument you could use a bow on to achieve it. He is also featured in the music video.
2. “Breathless”
“Breathless” is based on if The Virgin Suicides had a happy ending. What if Trip didn’t leave Lux in the field? There are stacked Metron sounds inspired by the soundtrack created for the film by Air. I don’t generally sing in that range in the chorus, and it makes me feel like Kate Bush (no one will ever be Kate, though).
3. “Failed Attempt”
“Failed Attempt” is about loving someone so deeply and unconditionally who hasn’t learned to love themself yet. There are different voice memos in this song and sneaky references that make it feel like a scrapbook. The music video compiles footage from one of my hometowns. Welcome to my memory lane.
4. “We Can’t Stop”
“We Can’t Stop” is a song about the meaningful purpose of undoing the problems your family passed down to you. I imagined this song to be a sailor’s journey to a forbidden unknown, and it was heavily inspired by imagery from the book A Wizard of Earthsea by Ursula Le Guin. Also, go spot the Jaws reference! The accordion really does the lonely sailor thing for me.
5. “Toxic Trait”
“Toxic Trait” is one of those songs that you have 20 voice notes from that starts with a mumbled idea and by note 20 is complete magic. I love this song so much. The key change in the chorus and the overall tone is not something I’d usually go for, but I was locked into whatever channel made itself present to me that day. It’s about wanting someone you love to grow with you, and to love what you become in the process.
6. “Moon Marquee”
Getting a text from the person you’re missing that just says “Moon!!” because they want you to go look at how big it is. The time change happens twice and you’d hardly notice it; it creates a mellow tug that makes me feel the unaccounted for existence that pre-dates me and that continues past me, just like the moon.
7. “Rotisserie (Let’s Get Stoned)”
“Rotisserie” was inspired by what I think home is. It combines fanfare with energetic cello and a guitar part that reminds me of the Cheers theme song. “Home”—and what it means to people—is my favorite word, like my mom and grandma’s ritual of sharing a rotisserie. Or when we arrive with our people right when we’re supposed to.
8. “Angel”
“Angel” is asking my grandma if I’m doing a good job being a person, but she’s not here to answer. We recorded this song in the middle of the woods in Nashville last winter, right as a winter storm took the power out for two weeks. It wasn’t until adding the single-note piano in the verses that made it come alive. It wasn’t meant to be a straightforward acoustic song. “The Stranger” deserved that moment the most.
9. “The Stranger”
“The Stranger” is about trying to make losing a parent fathomable, but that just looks like a lot of questions. This was another song from the woods sessions. Someone left a guitar in a weird tuning and I created this song by chance of picking up that guitar. This song started out sort of as a riddle I wrote asking about what “who,” “what, “when, “where, and “why” are. I cleared out what was abstract and just asked the questions differently.
