33 March 30th–april 5th, 2023 phoenixnewtimes.com phoenix new Times | cONTeNTs | feeDBacK | OPiNiON | NeWs | feaTuRe | NighT+Day | culTuRe | film | cafe | music | ideas of fighting back against ever- encroaching darkness. “I think, ultimately, what you’re tapping into was that idea of positivity,” she says. “I think that this record is about resilience in a lot of ways, whether it’s the story or it’s what I personally went through.” Take, for example, the album’s final track “Forgive,” a profound encapsulation of how these dark energies can ultimately be a force of good. “I almost wrote [‘Forgive’] from the point of view of what it means to actually die,” An says. “Then, what is it that you’ve left behind, and what you’ve done with your life, and then you almost have to reckon with all of that. I don’t necessarily think we die and we’re in the dirt. I don’t know what it is, but I think there is some- thing bigger.” Compelling and Painful Growth This “rebirth,” of sorts, also has allowed An to experiment musically and creatively — a powerful reminder of why she persevered in the first place. “On a technical level, I really wanted to try some things,” An says. “Because before, I think the output was, ‘I’m in an emotional space. I have certain tools at my disposal. I’m just going to go for it and see what happens.’” An says with the LP, she “wanted to play around with the bass and piano. Even play with vocals as a texture much more deliberately.” To facilitate that process, she even had AJJ’s own Mark Glick share “cello sketches” that she used for the record. The end result is, An says, “dense and deliberate. There’s the genre blending, but it’s less chaotic, maybe.” At the same time, however, recording was also a chance to reconnect with past favorites. “I used to just sit there and dissect what was going on with [Nine Inch Nails’] The Downward Spiral and The Fragile,” An says. She adds that the latter “has so much going on sonically, and it doesn’t commit to one genre, but it isn’t trying too many things. It’s still pretty cohesive.” She also found inspiration with metal duo The Body, who “approach metal as being more like art- metal and not doom in a genre sense.” So, then, is she proud of the record? That’s maybe a tad reductive, but at least for now, she has a better relationship with it than some of her past efforts. “The thing with [2018’s] Shadow World is that I wanted to walk away from the name,” An says of her life during that album. “I wrote that record in such a mentally unwell space. And I couldn’t even listen to the thing honestly until this year, when I started connecting with people who let me know how much the record meant to them.” That’s not the only thing An has recon- nected with, either. The LDR name, she says, has become less of a scourge and more an opportunity of sorts. “I feel like the name is a vessel for getting this work out,” she says. “And I think it’s also something that I’ve accepted as a part of my history. I was just talking to someone about this: For every negative opinion that you get, there’s usually 10 more compliments that you’re ignoring.” It helps, An adds, that “you’ve got musi- cians that come from the internet [these days] and their names are their handles, and it really is kind of random. But no one cares, especially this new generation.” Because at the end of the day, growth is a journey, one that is as compelling and affirmational as it is ugly and painful. For An, it’s not about band names or popularity or any other ephemera. It’s about whatever happens next as she treks this world as a perpetual creator. “I don’t know if I see myself in 15 years as being this,” An says. “This is a part of who I am — even the complicated stuff of coming full circle after abandoning it and almost quitting music. I really want the work, and [more] opportunities to connect in the world. Even more than a traditional ‘blowing up’ kind of music career.” Josue Orozco Phoenix multimedia artist Sam An/Lana Del Rabies recently got the chance to transform herself. Music from p30
