Sarah Mary Chadwick Finds Clarity on ‘Me and Ennui Are Friends, Baby’

How and when people face and process times of hardship in their lives—particularly those hardships which reside internally, are less defined in their origin, and without as clear a path to resolution—is a deeply personal and individual experience. Melbourne-based singer-songwriter, Sarah Mary Chadwick, is well acquainted with this intimate reality and has chosen to use songwriting as the vehicle for such introspections of her own through 2019’s The Queen Who Stole the Sky and 2020’s Please Daddy. 

“I think I’m pretty in the practice of just writing very closely to my own life and kind of I always have been.” Chadwick says. “More and more I kind of shift into something that I think I am good at, which is having quite a clear line between my thoughts, and what I can say and write.”

Now, though the new year has barely begun, Chadwick already has a third album at the ready, titled Me and Ennui are Friends, Baby. Like its predecessors, “Ennui” serves as the vessel for the processing of a self-contained bout with severe personal adversity.

“In terms of [writing about personal experiences] again on the album, I do think it’s something that I have kind of constantly done [with music].” In terms of the three [previous] records [each involving personal experiences], I think it was more like a retrospective thing. I feel like for me, they indicate pretty abrupt improvements in what I would consider the immediacy of my songwriting,” she says.

The biggest difference this time, is that the specific reality Chadwick chose to face head on through music, is that of her own previous attempt to commit suicide. Much in contrast to the death of Chadwick’s father and a dear friend that preceded the making of “Ennui,” the line connecting Chadwick to the experience through which she is working on “Ennui,” is non-existent: she is at the utter center of the experience itself, as opposed to being a degree or two removed and that makes nearly every aspect of the album seem magnified many more times over.

“It’s like almost a whittling down process in that, [you’re thinking about] ‘What’s the easiest to deal with? What’s the easiest (aspect) to kind of attack or approach?’,” Chadwick says. 

“First is always the more external kind of stuff,” she continues. “And then, I guess part of my process is very based on that kind of repetition—doing something and doing something and doing something until I feel like [the thought] has got to a point that was to me, as close to the crux of it, as I will be able to get.”

The very sonic style of “Ennui” itself, mirrors Chadwick’s intertwinement to the album’s topical focus extremely well. The chosen musical embodiment and the sentiments Chadwick is trying to create are blended well enough to the point that the album’s listening experience is one of dramatically raw character. The record exudes a performance seemingly unconcerned with melodic consistency, tonal balance, or instrumental clarity but not for any deliberate pursuit of musical shock value.

“I try to write as unconsciously as possible. I try to make [the music] sound really easy and mindless [and] essentially it is. (B)ut, I guess my point being that it’s been kind of a long process of getting into the habit of working with it [in that way]—essentially training myself to to work like that,” Chadwick explains.

“[Additionally], I think it’s useful for me to think about this like doing your work and almost like working out. I’ve thought of it more like a physical workout so I think that’s quite helpful too, in terms of being able to be open and clear on what you’re saying if you kind of disengage with it in an esoteric way then it’s in thinking of it more just like doing your work, then that kind of enables you to not—it just kind of frees up the [creative] process a lot I think.”

Still, even when presented with a dozen songs fueled by bitingly jagged vocals, jittery piano tones, and erroneous ambient sounds, one could say “Ennui” doesn’t land in left field but instead, lands precisely and empathically on the mark of its conceptual intent. After all, what is a person most likely to be unconcerned with during a time of deep emotional and mental crisis, than maintaining aforementioned consistency, balance, or clarity—especially about their feelings, thoughts and actions during that time. In this way, the heavily off-kilter flow of “Ennui’s” musical personality, both from the album’s production style and Chadwick’s own vocal approach, excels at channeling the utter fragility and unpredictability that accompanies accumulations of grief.

Given that “Ennui” is work of an unquestionably personal nature, even knowing her music has reached so many people outside of her own self, she makes sure to leave some special pieces of the experiences for herself, as extra reminders of the music’s individual origins in her life. “What I see as being very, very specific events, times, and situations that are true and mine, no matter how precise I kind of make it or how exactly I describe it, people still message me and say like, ‘Oh my God it’s so relatable,’” she explains. 

“[Eventually], I kind of realized that’s probably why I’ve been putting dates and things in songs because it’s kind of fun for me to retain a little bit of the narrative.”

Ultimately, Chadwick doesn’t take for granted, the emotional comfort “Ennui” can offer to others. However, she also doesn’t place the intensity of her experiences or feelings in a place of over glorified support. “I don’t think, [the album] necessarily offers solutions. I’m quite conscious of [whether] I’m doing it, because I kind of feel like that’s quite irresponsible (to claim to have solutions), if you’re not skilled enough to do that,” she says. Though not a flashy, visible action on Chadwick’s part, that kind of self-awareness might be the most admirable aspect of not just “Ennui” but Chadwick’s approach to making music as a whole. 

Where Chadwick does relate most to her listeners and see “Ennui” as being most helpful to them, is from the same emotional place she connects with others’ music: the vantage point of a fan. 

“As a fan, I know what it’s like when you hear something and for whatever reason, it resonates with you and you kind of play [the music] a million times and it feels very special and just like your own thing,” she says. “So, I think, yeah, any record has the ability to do that if it’s good and affecting and people like it. So I think that that’s kind of helpful to people.”