Erin Rae's songs of empathic, exacting quiet
"Welcome to the mess," Erin Rae said lightly as she answered her door – she'd sent advance notice through reps that the place was in disarray. "We're in the process of moving and by 'we,' I mean 'me.' I've carved you a trail to the back of the apartment."
The folk-country singer-songwriter led the way past neatly stacked boxes, and stepped into a doorway. "So this is my dining room slash where-my-organ-is," she noted, flicking a switch that activated the instrument's electric buzz, pressing a few keys and demonstrating its primitive drum machine. "Yeah, see, this is another reason why I have to move, because I'm on the third floor. I'm sure it drives my neighbor downstairs insane."
For someone who was packing up to relocate the same month as releasing a, and preparing to tour behind it, Rae actually had her chaos more under control than she made out. "You have the inevitable litany of apologies that you give to someone when they walk through your door," she laughed. "I feel like that's a truly southern thing to be like, 'I'm so sorry. This place looks horrible.' It can be immaculate, you know, but I'd probably give you the same spiel."
