FEATURE: Singer-Songwriter Quiet Takes Tackles Anxiety Coming Out Of Quarantine On New Single “Ghosty Was Here”

Harnessing smooth and smokey 70’s era vibe and chill back-beat style jazz pop, singer-songwriter Sarah Magill continues to navigate her style and sound on her latest single “Ghosty Was Here”. Borrowing the cool, psychedelic tinges of ’70s- Beatles with the poetic folk of songwriters Simon & Garfunkel, Magill finds a fascinating intersection between old and new, bringing in the latter through similarities to contemporary artists such as Andy Shauf and Sufjan Stevens with the alluring, hypnotic rhythm and whispering vocals.

Not only is her sound sonically transfixing but Magill, who performs as Quiet Takes exposes her introspection in her lyrics, talking about social anxiety in the a distanced, post-pandemic world: “Yes, I’m fine, never better / I can’t tell time anymore, anyway, so never mind / Sure, I’ve somewhere to be / Is that pride or pity or plain indifference”.

Sarah elaborates on the lyrics: “I’m an introvert who needs a lot of alone time to function, but I wasn’t prepared for the mental and emotional fallout of pandemic isolation. Even weekly studio work, regular walks with my BFF, and the occasional outdoor friend catch-up session weren’t quite enough to quell the doom-feeling that all my social structures were crumbling. One example: I remember forcing myself to text friends about an outdoor show and live-stream I did in the winter of 2020, and I had to stop and lie down because I felt so nauseated from the fear. Simply inviting people—and these were friends I had pretty solid connections with!—seemed like way too much. I wrote Ghosty Was Here while trying to process that isolation- and lack-of-hugs-driven social anxiety.”

Sarah opens up about her relationship with music in the latest Q&A below, and listen to “Ghosty Was Here” just past.

How has your music/style changed since the pandemic?

That’s a really interesting question, and a hard one to answer. I’m still deep in the murk of finding my voice — of figuring out what I have to offer and discovering the habits/practices that help me to make the most of it…whatever it is. I’m too close to it to really track the progression of the music or style itself. I can say that my process has gotten a little looser. I’m getting faster at demo-ing and getting ideas down without trying to perfect them. I’m more detached from expectations for the recording itself and better at letting songs grow and morph as they will. I’m getting more curious about what I can do to make music that connects better, how I can find a better balance between expressing and communicating. I feel like I’m growing, even if I wish that growth would happen faster!

Has the time away from people made you more appreciative of being around people?

Definitely. I’m an introvert who loves people; I just need a pretty big amount of alone time to be able to be present when I’m around others. It’s a weird balancing act now: I have this huge people-time deficit from the past year and a half, but I still need to pace myself, otherwise I get people-tired. Delta is doing some of that pacing for us introverts, unfortunately. I try to savor casual social interactions more now (even if they are masked up, still!) as well as the big mass-humanity-expressing-emotion moments that are possible again (with the right safety precautions).

One example: I became a Sporting KC fan a few years ago after I did a short freelance copywriting gig for the club’s marketing department. My family thought it was hilarious because team sports were never my thing, and I would always kind of roll my eyes at intense pro-sports fans. Anyway, I got to dive into the backstories of the team and the players, started going to matches pretty regularly, and then finally stepped up and bought my first season ticket…for the 2020 season. Which thankfully rolled over into this one. Being able to watch matches in person again this year — high-fiving strangers, yelling “I believe that we will win” with a whole stadium — it feels precious and cathartic and healing. Who knew I could get the same shot of communal joy from a Johnny Russell goal that I could from a Jonny Greenwood guitar solo? Well, I mean, sports fans knew, but I didn’t. I’m going to take that transcendent togetherness wherever I can get it now, whether it’s at a match or at a show.

Where does Ghosty Was Here fit within the context of the upcoming album you’re currently working on?

“Ghosty Was Here” is the first single on my next EP, Weekly, Weakly, coming out in November, but it was actually the last song written of those six tracks. So it’s kind of a bridge to the next batch of songs I’ve been working on. I wrote it pretty quickly and didn’t overthink it. Instead of trying to get it to a workable point in front of the keyboard (which is how I usually write), I opened up a demo file and put down a synth bass line. I worked out the melody with some draft lyrics in front of me. I worked a lot faster than normal. I’m trying to keep to that approach because it helps me find more interesting vocal phrasings and capture that initial idea’s emotion more directly. We’ll see what comes of it!

Has your anxiety affected your live performance? If so, how do you manage it?

I’ve only played one live show this year so far, so we’ve got a limited data set, but thankfully, it hasn’t. My pandemic anxiety was centered around fears of being cut off from community, of never belonging again, of being permanently alone. The loneliness felt claustrophobic, but performing is a communal experience — an antidote, really. For this most recent show, I was nervous about getting my new looping station to work like I wanted it to, but I wasn’t anxious. I was relieved — to be playing for people, to be back in that setting, to be somewhere I feel like I belong. I’ll take gear-related nervousness over existential-loneliness anxiety any day!