Latest news with #AttachmentTheory
Sydney Morning Herald
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- Sydney Morning Herald
‘Stardom has never really been part of the narrative': Sharon Van Etten
Shaz. Some nervous impulse makes me read the name aloud when it appears on my computer screen. Only her best friends call her that, Sharon Van Etten tells me when her smiling face appears seconds later. 'You can call me Shaz,' she adds in the next breath. It's a throwaway moment that says a lot. 'I try to connect on the deepest level every single show. I try to make eye contact with as many people as I can,' she'll tell me later. 'I want people to feel heard and seen.' To her fans, the New Jersey singer-songwriter's unheard years carry almost as much weight as her subsequent 15 on record. Her sobering origin story is a quiet act of defiance: five years in an abusive relationship — 'horrific; an assault situation' — where songwriting had to happen in secret. Her 2010 debut, Because I Was In Love, was a fragile act of self-reclamation that launched a long, escalating howl of recovery. Her seventh, Sharon Van Etten & The Attachment Theory, is another leap of faith, surrendering that once-closeted voice to a shared band writing process. 'Bands become siblings on the road, and we become each other's support systems through the ups and downs of life and travel and work,' she says. 'We really depend on each other. We all have our own shit, but we are more like family every year we do this.' Today she's in her home studio in Los Angeles, relishing summer break with her husband/ manager and their 10-year-old son before another few months on the bus. 'Touring can get pretty intense. We were pretty much gone February [to] May. So I'm glad to be present, in the moment.' As a band name, the Attachment Theory is 'a bit of a joke', she says. It refers to a psychological concept of how early bonds shape our patterns of connection and trust. When she's not playing mum or music, Van Etten studies psychology — a lifeline through several troubled chapters. 'When I was at high school, my mum couldn't really reach me,' she says. 'She convinced me to take a psychology class ... I was a teenager and hated everything — but I thrived in it. That class helped me realise I'm a good listener, and that people feel comfortable around me. It gave me confidence.' Van Etten has never identified the musician who did so much to erode that confidence in her late teens and early 20s, as she dropped in and out of college in Tennessee. She eventually fled in the night to her sister's house. Her parents took her back in, 'as long as I got a job, went back to school and went to see a therapist'. The latter was a profound turning point. 'She taught me ways to not need medication to handle my panic attacks and talk myself through triggers and to take notice of when I'm finding joy. And she was the one who encouraged me into music.' Terrifying as they were, the open mic nights of Brooklyn and the Lower East Side were only a bus and train ride away. A few acoustic guitar songs at a time, some burned onto CDs for friends, became the process for addressing her anxiety, 'a way of learning how to put myself out there again'. 'The other thing that changed my life was when I started to play shows and connecting with fans. They would reach out and talk to me about my music, and I would often get very personal stories in connection with the songs. 'I've always had this guilt about that because I feel like they're looking for advice, and I just don't know how to give that.' After this album tour winds up in Auckland in November, she aims to get back to school to become a certified therapist. Since the recent decline of several family members, she's considering grief counselling. 'I'm really interested in people and how we connect; why we need connections so badly.' Outside of her band, Van Etten's catalogue is a remarkable demonstration of the art of connection. Like I Used To, a 2021 duet with Angel Olsen, is among her best-known tracks. Featured vocals on albums by The National, Danger Mouse, Superchunk, Margo Price and more weave through a raft of tribute albums and screen soundtracks. She acts, too, most notably in the Netflix sci-fi drama The OA. In a slightly chilling echo of real life she played Rachel, survivor of a near-death experience who discovers a glorious singing voice. What's more remarkable in a world where popular success is so often confused with redemption is this artist's apparent resistance to glory, whether in deference to her band, her fans or those longer-term plans of service in counselling. The NME made an astute observation of this year's sideways step from solo spotlight to lead singer of the Attachment Theory: 'She's turned her back on ego and individualism at exactly the point that others would lean into their stardom.' The word makes her laugh. 'Stardom has never really been part of the narrative, for me,' she says. She admits that her husband 'will make jokes about how every time things seem to be growing, I like to pivot. But it's not on purpose. 'My first record was in 2010, so I was nearly 30, just getting into the industry — because I wanted to, not because I had a plan. Now people start with a business model. They have one recording before they've even gone on tour. 'In some ways I think I started at the perfect time because I got to hone what it means to write music and find my bearings. I started solo. I didn't even have a band until 2012. And now in my 40s I'm finally having my first real band. I understand now more than ever what connection and chemistry mean. TAKE 7: THE ANSWERS ACCORDING TO SHARON VAN ETTEN Worst habit? Being on my phone. Greatest fear? Losing the people I care about the most. The line that has stayed with you? My mum always told me the golden rule is to do unto others as you'd have them do unto you. Biggest regret? Not finishing college when I was young. Favourite book? At the moment it's The Beauty of What Remains [How Our Greatest Fear Becomes Our Greatest Gift] by Rabbi Steve Leader. The artwork or song you wish was yours? Mazzy Star's Fade Into You. If you could time travel. Where would you go? New York City in the '70s: the height of the CBGBs era. 'It's made music mean more to me. It means everything that people connect with my music and I try to be able to be an ear in return because I think that is what we need now more than anything. I feel a deeper sense of community than I've had in a long time as we're playing this record. Especially right now.' Right now? She sighs. 'When we were writing this record, dare I say it wasn't as bad? We started writing it at the end of '22 and it was the first time we were able to be in a room together, and we were all just catching up on where we were in our lives. So it was a combination of family members ageing, ourselves ageing in this industry … 'But then also, I'm an older mother, and there's all of this darkness surrounding us in our world, and I'm supposed to be protecting him … I have friends that feel like in the country that we live in, they don't even have the right to exist. I have friends whose partners have green cards and they don't know if they'll be able to stay.' Loading It's a lot to pin on a band, a concert, a handful of songs. But music isn't nothing. 'People have connected with my music and when they reach out, I try to respond,' Van Etten says. 'I get to tell them they're not alone. It's a wild, surreal position to be in. I'm grateful for that.'
The Age
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Age
‘Stardom has never really been part of the narrative': Sharon Van Etten
Shaz. Some nervous impulse makes me read the name aloud when it appears on my computer screen. Only her best friends call her that, Sharon Van Etten tells me when her smiling face appears seconds later. 'You can call me Shaz,' she adds in the next breath. It's a throwaway moment that says a lot. 'I try to connect on the deepest level every single show. I try to make eye contact with as many people as I can,' she'll tell me later. 'I want people to feel heard and seen.' To her fans, the New Jersey singer-songwriter's unheard years carry almost as much weight as her subsequent 15 on record. Her sobering origin story is a quiet act of defiance: five years in an abusive relationship — 'horrific; an assault situation' — where songwriting had to happen in secret. Her 2010 debut, Because I Was In Love, was a fragile act of self-reclamation that launched a long, escalating howl of recovery. Her seventh, Sharon Van Etten & The Attachment Theory, is another leap of faith, surrendering that once-closeted voice to a shared band writing process. 'Bands become siblings on the road, and we become each other's support systems through the ups and downs of life and travel and work,' she says. 'We really depend on each other. We all have our own shit, but we are more like family every year we do this.' Today she's in her home studio in Los Angeles, relishing summer break with her husband/ manager and their 10-year-old son before another few months on the bus. 'Touring can get pretty intense. We were pretty much gone February [to] May. So I'm glad to be present, in the moment.' As a band name, the Attachment Theory is 'a bit of a joke', she says. It refers to a psychological concept of how early bonds shape our patterns of connection and trust. When she's not playing mum or music, Van Etten studies psychology — a lifeline through several troubled chapters. 'When I was at high school, my mum couldn't really reach me,' she says. 'She convinced me to take a psychology class ... I was a teenager and hated everything — but I thrived in it. That class helped me realise I'm a good listener, and that people feel comfortable around me. It gave me confidence.' Van Etten has never identified the musician who did so much to erode that confidence in her late teens and early 20s, as she dropped in and out of college in Tennessee. She eventually fled in the night to her sister's house. Her parents took her back in, 'as long as I got a job, went back to school and went to see a therapist'. The latter was a profound turning point. 'She taught me ways to not need medication to handle my panic attacks and talk myself through triggers and to take notice of when I'm finding joy. And she was the one who encouraged me into music.' Terrifying as they were, the open mic nights of Brooklyn and the Lower East Side were only a bus and train ride away. A few acoustic guitar songs at a time, some burned onto CDs for friends, became the process for addressing her anxiety, 'a way of learning how to put myself out there again'. 'The other thing that changed my life was when I started to play shows and connecting with fans. They would reach out and talk to me about my music, and I would often get very personal stories in connection with the songs. 'I've always had this guilt about that because I feel like they're looking for advice, and I just don't know how to give that.' After this album tour winds up in Auckland in November, she aims to get back to school to become a certified therapist. Since the recent decline of several family members, she's considering grief counselling. 'I'm really interested in people and how we connect; why we need connections so badly.' Outside of her band, Van Etten's catalogue is a remarkable demonstration of the art of connection. Like I Used To, a 2021 duet with Angel Olsen, is among her best-known tracks. Featured vocals on albums by The National, Danger Mouse, Superchunk, Margo Price and more weave through a raft of tribute albums and screen soundtracks. She acts, too, most notably in the Netflix sci-fi drama The OA. In a slightly chilling echo of real life she played Rachel, survivor of a near-death experience who discovers a glorious singing voice. What's more remarkable in a world where popular success is so often confused with redemption is this artist's apparent resistance to glory, whether in deference to her band, her fans or those longer-term plans of service in counselling. The NME made an astute observation of this year's sideways step from solo spotlight to lead singer of the Attachment Theory: 'She's turned her back on ego and individualism at exactly the point that others would lean into their stardom.' The word makes her laugh. 'Stardom has never really been part of the narrative, for me,' she says. She admits that her husband 'will make jokes about how every time things seem to be growing, I like to pivot. But it's not on purpose. 'My first record was in 2010, so I was nearly 30, just getting into the industry — because I wanted to, not because I had a plan. Now people start with a business model. They have one recording before they've even gone on tour. 'In some ways I think I started at the perfect time because I got to hone what it means to write music and find my bearings. I started solo. I didn't even have a band until 2012. And now in my 40s I'm finally having my first real band. I understand now more than ever what connection and chemistry mean. TAKE 7: THE ANSWERS ACCORDING TO SHARON VAN ETTEN Worst habit? Being on my phone. Greatest fear? Losing the people I care about the most. The line that has stayed with you? My mum always told me the golden rule is to do unto others as you'd have them do unto you. Biggest regret? Not finishing college when I was young. Favourite book? At the moment it's The Beauty of What Remains [How Our Greatest Fear Becomes Our Greatest Gift] by Rabbi Steve Leader. The artwork or song you wish was yours? Mazzy Star's Fade Into You. If you could time travel. Where would you go? New York City in the '70s: the height of the CBGBs era. 'It's made music mean more to me. It means everything that people connect with my music and I try to be able to be an ear in return because I think that is what we need now more than anything. I feel a deeper sense of community than I've had in a long time as we're playing this record. Especially right now.' Right now? She sighs. 'When we were writing this record, dare I say it wasn't as bad? We started writing it at the end of '22 and it was the first time we were able to be in a room together, and we were all just catching up on where we were in our lives. So it was a combination of family members ageing, ourselves ageing in this industry … 'But then also, I'm an older mother, and there's all of this darkness surrounding us in our world, and I'm supposed to be protecting him … I have friends that feel like in the country that we live in, they don't even have the right to exist. I have friends whose partners have green cards and they don't know if they'll be able to stay.' Loading It's a lot to pin on a band, a concert, a handful of songs. But music isn't nothing. 'People have connected with my music and when they reach out, I try to respond,' Van Etten says. 'I get to tell them they're not alone. It's a wild, surreal position to be in. I'm grateful for that.'
The Independent
09-06-2025
- Entertainment
- The Independent
For Sharon Van Etten, making her latest album was both spiritual and psychological
As she was putting together her seventh and most recent record, Sharon Van Etten came up with a tongue-in-cheek idea for its title. 'Sharon Van Etten & The Attachment Theory,' she wanted to call it — a reference to both her interest in psychology and a play on the familial dynamics that often exist within a band. Although most of Van Etten's bandmates have been with her for several years, this was her first time writing songs with them, so playing with that relationship felt apt. But when the indie musician approached her collaborators with the idea for the title and band name, there was one stipulation: 'They said, 'I don't mind you calling it 'The Attachment Theory,' as long as we don't have to talk about our attachment styles,'' Van Etten laughed. As they gear up for a fall tour, announced Monday, Van Etten spoke with The Associated Press about her stream-of-consciousness style of writing and how being a mom has made her more cognizant of how much time she spends on her phone. The interview has been edited for clarity and brevity. AP: What prompted the change in how this record was made? VAN ETTEN: Writing as a band was a complete accident. We were rehearsing in 2022 for the 'We've Been Going About This All Wrong' tour and figuring out how to take this album, which we recorded piecemeal during the pandemic because we couldn't all be in the same room together. I thought the best way to reconnect after recording the album from afar was to rent a house and a studio in the desert and have it be more like a literal band camp, instead of doing one of those sterile rehearsal environments, just to have a way for us to reconnect as people as well as musicians. As we got to the end of the week, we realized we had gone through the whole set that we were planning for that tour, and I asked the band if they would want to jam. I was so tired of hearing myself. I was very inspired by the sonic palette that we had created together, and I wanted to see what would happen. And in an hour or two, we wrote two songs without really trying. And we laughed it off, we packed our bags and we left the next day. But my engineer recorded those jam sessions, and I remember playing them for my partner at home, saying, 'I think creatively this is the next thing I want to do.' And so, after we did that first tour for the previous record, I booked a writing session right away and we returned to that same studio and worked for a week with the intention of writing. And it was a very prolific week. AP: Did you have the lyrics written beforehand? VAN ETTEN: All of the writing in the desert was from the ground up. I didn't have anything going into it, which I've never done before either. My process from being solo is something that I brought into the session with the band, where I find the melodies first and I sing stream of consciousness. AP: Singing stream of consciousness sounds very spiritual, almost like speaking in tongues. VAN ETTEN: It very much is. There's something about it that, if I'm going through something emotionally that I don't have the words to express yet and I can sit at an instrument and just sing, I get something out of me and release something in a way that I still don't really know how to describe to people. Even if it's something I end up writing about later, it's more of like, I get the emotion out, but then I turn the song into something else that hopefully is more healing than the moment that I'm trying to get over. AP: How did you come up with the album name? VAN ETTEN: The name The Attachment Theory at first was a bit tongue-in-cheek because I am interested in psychology and I am from a big family. I think being in a family and being in a band are very similar because you become a family, you become each other's chosen family, and you go through a lot together. So from rehearsing to touring to making a record together, you create these dynamics with each other, and you also become each other's support systems. And I know attachment theory is mostly about your connection with your parents but it's also a little bit about how you connect as a unit. AP: I'm sure your attachment styles came up in the desert. VAN ETTEN: Yes, and they will remain unnamed. AP: I love your song, 'Idiot Box.' I wondered, as an artist, how you think about our addiction to entertainment. VAN ETTEN: Oh my gosh, well that's a can of worms right there. I mean, we're all addicted to our phones. We all have screens. I'm also a mom, and I tell my kid not to do the things that I do. And I think now more than ever, I have to be way more mindful about when I choose to interact. But I don't really have an answer. It's more of an acknowledgment that we need to check in with each other when we feel like we're getting lost in that scrolling zone and I just feel like it's a constant battle.
Chicago Tribune
10-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Chicago Tribune
Review: It was a more poised and ready Sharon Van Etten at Salt Shed
Sharon Van Etten is ready to be front and center. Not that she hasn't been before, but perhaps the type and scope of her music made it more difficult for her to command the stage. But with her band, the Attachment Theory, as evident at Friday night's set at the Salt Shed, audiences can now witness a more confident and self-assured version of Van Etten, one who is ready and perhaps eager to embody her true rock superstardom. As a long-time fan, I wasn't quite sure what to think of this new direction, first heard on her self-titled record with her collaborative band, the Attachment Theory, released this February. But it's a pivotal moment in Van Etten's career. And it all comes together in the live show. This is not Sharon Van Etten pretending to be someone she is not. Instead, it is an artist embracing the person she was always meant to be, and doing it with a level of fun and flirty humor that encourages her audience to let loose. There was no cell phone in sight as Van Etten and the Attachment Theory entered the stage and performed the opener 'Live Forever.' A hypnotic purple light show complemented Van Etten's elegiac voice that pierced through the track's spindly synths. 'Holy moly!' Van Etten exclaimed after the audience's rapturous applause. Van Etten's enthusiasm spilled over into the next track, 'Afterlife,' where she began walking around the stage and interacting with both the band and the audience. It was a perfect fit for this new music, which has a certain vibrancy that invigorates the ear. On 'Idiot Box,' a post-punk stunner from her new record, Van Etten returned to her signature guitar. But she lets loose again on 'Comeback Kid,' from 2019's maximalist record 'Remind Me Tomorrow,' continuing to shake up the routine of her traditional stage shows. Van Etten leans into dancing. It's nothing too serious or refined but embodies a driving, propulsive energy, as if the mood of the track is running through her limbs. It's no wonder the infatuated audience began moving, too. Van Etten is as much singer-songwriter as she is frontwoman as she is band leader. And the Attachment Theory, with all of its effortless bombast, is the perfect accompaniment for this new stage in her career. Sometimes it is other people who push us in the ways we need to be pushed. If before she was often grouped in a community of millennial, indie rock singer-songwriters like Angel Olsen or Mitski, here Van Etten has proven that she is more than the assumptions of lazy music industry types who can't or won't see her for who she is. Take 'I Can't Imagine (Why You Feel This Way),' another track from her new record, a new wave-inspired sound inspired by David Byrne and the B-52s. Synth-driven and amusing, it's a sparkly and vivacious track that elicits a sparkly and vivacious performance. There were slower moments, of course. 'Trouble,' with its steady cadence and unnerving musicality, served as a nice transition before the group performed more of Van Etten's older tracks. It's easy to get swept up into the emotions of her music, whether old or new. Fan favorites like 2014's 'Every Time the Sun Comes Up' and 'Tarifa,' (which she dedicated to filmmaker David Lynch) fit perfectly with her new music. Van Etten's siren-like melodies are evocative. But more importantly, there's a throughline in this new music. It's cinematic and epic, a walloping collection of earthy soundscapes that home in on the intricacies and intimacies of life. Sometimes, that comes with a little bit of a groove and a dance, and sometimes it requires the listener to stand present and still. Either way, it's great stuff from an artist with many more surprises up her sleeve.
The Sun
26-04-2025
- Entertainment
- The Sun
Sharon Van Etten and The Attachment Theory release one of 2025's best long players.
THE latest album from indie-pop queen Sharon Van Etten has her teaming up with The Attachment Theory, which is quite a surprise given her previous six solo efforts relied on a rotating cast of friends and sessionists as backing musicians. An invitation to jam, a peculiarity which Van Etten admits to being alien to, resulted in two songs from an initial session. Pleased at the fruitful outcome, the 44-year old American chanteuse and the Attachment Theory continued with this blueprint and the result is a one of the year's most enchanting alternative pop releases. At the very forefront is Van Etten's haunting and ethereal vocals, inviting all and sundry to wrap themselves in a blanket of melancholy. Recalling the sounds of Alison Goldfrapp and Cat Power, this album is almost a throwback to 90s chillout albums – designed for the comedown after a hard night raving to big beats at some abandoned warehouse. This is music to zone out to. The sort of album you stick on after a hard day's toil, letting its cool vibes wash over you like the sound of gentle rainfall outside your window. But this does not mean the album is mere background music. Instead, it invites listeners to just sit back and soak in the atmospheric vibes. Opening two tracks Live Forever and Afterlife deal with mortality, which sets the mood straight away as Van Etten's melancholia-drenched vocal chords set the tone of this ultra-chilled long player. The Attachment Theory is unobtrusive with its playing and allow Van Etten's singing to take centre stage. However, that does not mean it is bland or boring. It is anything but as the trio fashion interesting soundscapes peppered with lots of eletronica elements to keep proceedings intriguing. Think Beck at his most eclectic but not as busy and you will sort of get the picture. Even when things are taken up a notch and the band hit an uptempo vibe, Van Etten's vocals still remain centre stage, taking listeners on an aural journey that is akin to albums such as Spiritualized's Ladies and Gentlemen, We are Floating in Space. Yes, it is that good and certainly deserves comparisons with chill-out classics such as that. Channeling the spirit of prime-era Talking Heads, the Attachment Theory take the art-funk template to new albeit restrained heights on tracks such as Southern Life and Somethin' Ain't Right, with a bass line that is guaranteed to get toes tapping. There are no vocal histrionics on the entire album as Van Etten's singing barely rises above a whisper. It is all very calm and composed – all very grown up in fact. But at no point does this record meander into mediocrity or middle-of-the-road banality. It just delivers top notch chill-out anthems in an almost lazy manner but therein lies its charms. Effortless brilliance is something to be marvelled and celebrated. Make absolutely no mistake, this album is one of the best to drop in 2025 so far – every home should own it. At the very least, it should be on the playlists of those who simply enjoy great music. Essential stuff.
