BONZIE’s latest album, “When I Found The Trap Door”, solidifies her as a unique pop visionary bent on reshaping our perception. Since she launched her career at just 15, this Chicago-born singer, songwriter, producer, and multi-instrumentalist has quickly built up a well-deserved reputation around her, in no small part due to the insane amount of work she puts into every lovingly crafted song that she also writes and self-produces.
Drawing inspiration from a diverse range of influences, including Satoshi Kon’s “Paprika” and the folk/blues legacy of Elizabeth Cotten, “When I Found The Trap Door” serves as a rousing exploration of sound and storytelling. This fourth full-length release follows her acclaimed 2021 project, “Reincarnation”, and reflects her intentional, minimalist, and at times surrealist approach, allowing us to experience sounds that work on dream logic, and lyrics that thrive on revelation and insight. Let’s delve into the creative journey that brought this extraordinary album to life.
You mentioned that this album feels like the culmination of your experiences. How has your journey as an artist shaped the themes in “When I Found The Trap Door”?
I’ve been making records of my songs and releasing them since I was 14. Since then, I’ve had incredible opportunities working with talented producers and spending much of my time in studios. Inevitably, over such a long period, I’ve learned so much, and I’m grateful to be in a position to have had that learning through experience. This was the perfect time for me to produce my own record. Self-producing When I Found The Trap Door allowed me to give each element the care and time it needed to find the ideal sound naturally.
“The Point Of No Return” is about letting go while holding onto essential relationships. Can you share a specific moment or relationship that inspired this song?
Well, I was moving cities. It was a time when I had various acquaintances in city no. 1 and had yet to know anyone in city no. 2. Moving kind of filters out what you do and who you hang out with to kill time versus what and who sets up a home in your heart. You’re forced to set priorities when your routine is disrupted. It’s freeing, exhilarating, and a bit sentimental. I wanted to capture that specific feeling. Once you leave and your life (and you) change and grow, at that point, there’s kinda no going back. Just the song and dance of life.
You self-produced this album. What challenges did you face during the production process, and how did you overcome them?
Challenges are the name of the game in production. I’m always fighting with what I hear in my head funneling into our modern earthly tools. The biggest takeaway is that there is always a solution to every problem and an answer to every question, even if you can’t see it now. Music blossoms for you when you apply the correct energy and keep your eyes on the prize.
You drew inspiration from various sources, including Satoshi Kon’s “Paprika” and Elizabeth Cotton. How do these influences manifest in the music?
I’ve probably watched Paprika 15 times, and Elizabeth’s records countless spins… They might seem like unrelated influences, but I think their works are quite similar in some ways. Paprika is based on a psychologist’s fictional book about dreams, integrating all of these factual phenomena into human psychology and modern medicine. Kon’s interpretation is unbelievably inspired and detailed in quality. I try to mirror his level of meticulous quality control and emotional integrity. Each scene, from the background to the motion to the sound design, is made with full emotional awareness. Elizabeth makes songs (and covers standards) with a genuine love of the game— she seemed to really love to play, and she used music for its original utilitarian purpose— to soothe and invigorate her loved ones in her own personal life. Her work equally brings a level of emotional consciousness. I think that’s what Satoshi Kon and Elizabeth Cotten have in common. There’s incredible life energy in both of their work. I think that’s why I like them both so much.
You describe this album as your most vulnerable work. Was this tough, therapeutic, or maybe both?
I recorded most of the vocals at home alone. It’s amazing when you have no one to answer to about your performance other than yourself. It’s amazing what you’ll see in yourself. I think I was able to capture a delicate energy with the small musician team on the record, and all the time I spent alone with it. Vulnerability is such a fickle spirit that can get squashed really easily with overproduction. But true vulnerability is really tough, punk, and rebellious, so I feel quite proud that I can provide that with this record.
BONZIE, in “Do You Know Who I Am,” how do you navigate the tension between self-identity and external perception, especially in a world where people often feel unheard?
I’m not sure if any of us will ever feel fully satisfied and completely understood by others in our time here, but that’s okay. I don’t think we’re supposed to. When you see someone’s experience, and you can visualize yourself as them, I think that’s as close as we’ll ever come while we’re here.
How did you envision the visuals for the music video, and what do you hope it conveys about the song’s message?
I had drawn a character, a sort of abstract creature, shortly after I wrote the song. I drew it in silver, so silver as a color was the springboard for the music video. Jasper, my director, had the idea of the dancers as a sort of literal “grasping at identity”, with an overarching femme overtone, portraying the concept from that POV.
What unique insights did you gain from working with collaborators like Michael Brauer that helped shape your exploration of societal “trap doors” in the album?
I’ve wanted to work with Michael since I was 10 or 11. I’ve known about his work from Coldplay records and personal favorites of mine, like his mixing of KT Tunstall and Grizzly Bear. When I finished this record, I knew he would understand the sound I was going for. My engineer friend, with the best of intentions, told me not even to reach out; he was way too big to work with me. I waited a while and finally decided to reach out anyway, and I got a response back. He loved the music and wanted to mix it. It was a dream come true to work with him. It’s a great example of “nothing is impossible”.
The album’s title proposes something like “…and here’s how you can find them, too.” That said, what are some of these “trap doors” you found that you think may work -if not universally- for most people?
Haha, maybe that could be the extended title. I think music is certainly a universal trap door. If you pick the right one, it can change the game in an instant. We’re hardwired to respond that way—animals, too. Music—give it a go and let me know what you find.
As a self-reliant artist, what advice would you give to emerging musicians trying to navigate the industry on their own terms?
Remember your love. I feel lucky in some ways to have spent so many years in Wisconsin, far from any industry, writing songs in my bedroom. It’s important to put yourself out there as well, but don’t let other people fuck up your love. Nothing is worth that.
Now that “When I Found The Trap Door” is out, what are you most excited for fans to experience when they listen to the album in full?
I created a lot of “beauty” in the sound. I think it will feel very good to listen to it in full. By the last song, you should feel like you just had an experience— like one of the good boat-driven Disney World rides.
Photos Jasper Soloff
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