Written by James Barry
Avery Mandeville is the voice of Little Hag and of everyone fed up with life’s colorful wheel of misfortune. She has been a fixture in the Asbury Park music scene for years, bringing her refreshing blend of vibrato and bravado. She is one of one. No one else sounds like Avery Mandeville. Her lyrics are raw flesh. Her vocals are the violent dredging of her soul. In a word, her style is unfettered. It’s ironic Little Hag’s first full-length effort is titled Leash.
The record is a red puddle of angst rippling outside a boardwalk bar, attracting ants like a pool of fruit punch. It’s a bloody sink below a cracked mirror. It’s a phone left ringing on a bedside table next to an empty box of tissues. It’s a middle finger piercing the clouds overhead. And it’s a scornful laugh at the mire underfoot.
Mandeville’s songwriting feels like picking scabs; reopening a young wound to let it breathe, to feel the warm blood again and let it heal. Her songs deal with breakups, toxic exes, mental illness, the malaise of service industry work, real suffering from real, lived experiences. She captures the low points of her life and shares them with the world. But she’s never too vulnerable, and she isn’t looking for reassurance.
In the words of Tony Hoagland, she stands in her armor made of irony with her sword of good intentions raised. The pain is always accompanied by Mandeville’s undying wit. The blood is always chased with honey. She’s always armed with a quip to lift the room’s spirits, to remind the audience: Everything isn’t alright. But a lot of it is funny. And if everything were alright, the world would have no music.
After a powerful, packed show at the Wonder Bar, I had a chance to chat with Ms. Mandeville. We talked about songwriting, work, relationships, and her growth as an artist. And she spoke about an exhilarating shift in sonic gears on Little Hag’s forthcoming album.
What have you been listening to lately?
This band, Superdrag. They’re Power Pop 90s. My roommate just showed them to me, and I’m obsessed. So that’s really all I’ve been listening to, Regretfully Yours, by Superdrag.
What’s your most-listened-to album of all time?
The first one that comes to mind is August And Everything After by Counting Crows, because that’s an album I’ve loved since I was a kid…But that can’t be right. Maybe Tidal by Fiona Apple … both of those.
What’s changed most about your musical taste since you were a kid?
I definitely like heavier, harder stuff now…I got really into Nine Inch Nails this past year. I don’t think that would’ve happened back then. When I was younger I listened to quieter, more tender singer/songwriter stuff. Death Cab and Bright Eyes was my bag, but not so much anymore.
What are you looking for in new music? A particular sound? Songwriting?
I always like to say I’m a big lyrics guy, but then with a lot of my favorite bands, I don’t even necessarily understand what they’re saying. So that’s not even true…There are a couple things that will really hook me in: I like harmonies and progressions that are walking up or walking down. It’s such a simple thing, I’m so predictable, but it’s what I’m into.
Well, you’re definitely a big lyrics guy when it comes to your own music. Are there any songwriters you admire or whose work you draw from?
I really love Rufus Wainwright. He’s probably my favorite songwriter. And Fiona Apple too. I like honest and confessional lyrics. I find it easy to write what I know. I have a hard time writing fiction. I really only write the truth of the matter, so to speak. And I feel like that’s what Rufus Wainwright does too.
I know you’re a spontaneous writer…What are those moments of inspiration like? How do they turn into songs?
I have an ongoing page in my Notes app, and it’s mostly full of one-liners. And sometimes I’ll sit down and look through it and see what fits together: Is there a theme? Is one of these good enough to build a chorus from it? A lot of times I’ll be at a show, or a party and I’ll say excuse me and I’ll go sing it into my phone. A lot of the new record is that. I’m at a party and I need to go sing this into my phone before I forget it.
“Schlub” is a standout track for me on Leash. Do you remember the moment you were inspired to write it?
I was definitely working…I was bartending at the White Chapel Projects in Long Branch at the time. I felt like a loser who was surrounded by losers, in the romantic sense…Nothing good comes from being in your ‘party girl’ era. All of those Leash songs are from that same time. I was feeling stuck in a cycle, where it didn’t even matter what choices I made, things were just happening to me, I had a music video idea for that song, but it never panned out. I really wish it did. I was like, I need to send this song to everyone I’ve ever dated and have them record a live reaction. So I sent it to probably 12 people, but I only got three back. If I had gotten at least five, I would have gone through with it…I find it really hard to write a sincere, happy type of song. It’s easier to be sarcastic or write something sad.
Do you see a shift in tone or subject or theme from Leash to your newer stuff?
Same old themes. New breakup…And my hardest breakup. So I think that manifested itself in a lot of ways. Some of these songs are really mean, man…And sonically the most fun songs I’ve made. I’m in my Nine Inch Nails/LCD Soundsystem era. There’s some really fun production on some of these songs. But the same themes. I’m still just writing what happens.
I have a song about the breakup itself, the moving out and all that. I have a love song to my vibrator. And this album is more vocally driven. A lot of the songs leading up to Leash, I don’t think I was writing for my own voice. I was just writing songs and then singing them. But with this album I have an intention of singing the most natural way I can. There’s nothing worse than singing through 100 takes and never nailing it. A lot of Leash felt like that to me. I wanted to sing those songs in a certain way, and I couldn’t get there. Like I really wanted to scream on “Schlub” and “The Whole World” the way I do live, but I can’t replicate that in the studio. It’s coming from a different energy.
If you struggle to write fictional lyrics, do you find yourself staying away from fiction as a consumer of art?
I mean I do love documentaries. I find them so interesting. Also, in a stupid/smart way, I feel like I’m learning something. But I do love a regular old fictional movie or book. My favorite movies are all fiction. I do like all of it. But lately I’ve been in my documentary phase. I have whatever mental illness it is where I’ll watch something and then I immediately have to tell everyone in my life about it … like, “Did you hear what this cult did?”
What are some of those fictional films you love?
My favorite movie is The Lobster. And I also like The Killing of a Sacred Deer. I really like that director, Yorgos Lanthimos. I like to feel uncomfortable a little bit, but not too much. For example, I liked Beau is Afraid, but I hated Uncut Gems. I have a whole thing about Uncut Gems, and I know I’m probably alone on this…But if I wanted to get yelled at for a couple hours, I would call my mom. I don’t need to feel this masculine, incessant rage and tumult. It’s at this really high level of intensity, and it doesn’t quit…I just can’t. And anyone I’ve said this opinion to is like, “Get a grip. This is cinema.” But when it was over, I just didn’t feel like I had fun.
I’m also sick of movies and shows where everyone is bad. We get it. I watched all of Succession, I understand there’s really good shows with that sort of thing, but I need someone to root for. I think I’m in the majority of mindless movie watchers who want to turn off their brain and enjoy something. If I don’t have someone to root for, I’m upset. I came here to have fun.
What more can you tell me about your new music? Is the album coming soon?
I wanna have the record out by the end of the year. Is that realistic at this point? Not really. The songs are pretty much all tracked. There are just a couple things left to do.
I took a very different approach. I had a lot of different people in my life who I wanted to work with…I wanted to do it, for the first time ever, the way that bands do it. They get in the studio for a couple of weeks. They do the whole thing. They’ve got a record at the end of it. It sounds like one thing because it was done in one place…But this was not that. I did it with a whole bunch of people all over the place, so it’s gonna sound all over the place. But the songs were written in so many different places in different vibes…Me and my best friend Noah, who used to be my keyboard player, he had some time off in between tours, and I was fresh out of a relationship. We went to visit our friends in Durham, North Carolina. We got an Airbnb for the month, and we said we were going to write a song every day. And we did. We each wrote songs every day.
How was that experience? Just locking in for a month and writing every day?
I had never done that before. I’ve never set an intention to do something like that. It was cool. I wish I had kept up with it more. I’m not good at sticking to making any big changes in my life. I’m the guy who’s making the New Year’s resolution of going to the gym, and then I go once and I don’t go again, ever. It was nice to have a partner to hold me accountable. And I was sick for a lot of the trip. I had strep throat and fevers, and I just couldn’t write a song some days. SO there were days I had to make up for it and write two songs. There was a day I had to write three songs. And those ended up being some of my favorite ones. Maybe because I had to scrape out all that was left of my brain…It was right after the breakup. The whole process was cathartic.
After that initial catharsis writing the song, does performing it feel like reliving the moment again and again? Do you lose that cathartic feeling?
Yea, and for that reason I avoid playing certain songs, like I don’t ever play “Leash” live. It’s painful. There was a brief window of time where I played “Predator” live, but it was too emotional…But there’s nothing in this new project that’s too painful. Because as always, I can’t be serious. I have to be a bitch, or I have to spin things into jokes.
A lot of your songs talk about life in the service industry. What do you lean on to get through your roughest days at work?
I’ve had all different kinds of jobs. Since I’ve moved to Philly, I just have one remote gig. And that just feels fake. Remote work to me is not real — it’s amazing. It’s too amazing. But when I’m at a real job where I have to be there, and I’m over it, I think about what I’m doing after. I’ve worked at every restaurant in Red Bank. I’ve worked at a lot of different bars and venues. So it’s a night owl vibe. And I think about who I get to hang out with after, what’s the plan. I’m lucky to have a lot of really cool friends who I love to spend time with, so that’s what gets me through it: my people.
