Nan Macmillan brings a dreamy quality to her music, much like the subconscious truths that seep into our sleeping minds. It’s up to us if we recognize them when we wake up. The Charlottesville, VA singer-songwriter has no problem cutting to the core of the matter in her work, like the recent “Mad Sometimes,” which navigates the ambiguities of ending a relationship when you know it’s right, even if you’re not happy about it. Macmillan understand that complexity, a key theme of her upcoming album From Both Eyes (out March 8th.) In our interview, Macmillan tells us the story behind the album’s intriguing title as well as her studious approach to songwriting — and the words that inspired her to fall in love with her queer identity.
Explain the title of your album.
The album title “From Both Eyes” stems from a journal entry written in the summer of 2018. This journal entry feels like the core of this album in a lot of ways, although it was written pretty long ago. I was sitting in a cafe after having just hiked for a month in northern Spain, and my mind felt as clean and healthy as it ever had. In this entry, I wrote down the words “I’m queer” for the first time. I also wrote, “I’m a garden that needs watering, and I now see it all as beautiful and blooming.” Flash forward to 2021, and I opened up the same journal entry again, looking for inspiration for a song. I actually began to cry, seeing these words again and remembering this time when everything felt so clear. I could really feel tears coming from both eyes, as if before I was only really crying out of the left one or something. I wrote that lyric down, “beginning to cry from both eyes now” and it felt like a continuation of that journal entry from a younger me. This phrase “from both eyes” is still mysterious to me, but it captures this essence of seeing the world clearly and honestly. Observing both the good and the darkness around and within myself. Not being afraid to look at pain, and also witnessing joy.
Do you have any songwriting tips you can share?
My main songwriting tip is to remember to be a student – to approach the craft of songwriting from a posture of learning and curiosity. I’ve taken some great classes from this place called School of Song, soaking in the wisdom of songwriters like Adrianne Lenker, Courtney Marie Andrews and Robin Pecknold. Listening to these artists whom I admire has brought about new ideas and ways of approaching my songs that I’m super grateful for. And beyond classes, workshops, etc., I like to see the world around me as a place to learn from. Like, what new books are you reading that you can draw from, or what notes did you take in that random astronomy talk you went to? I don’t want to ever feel like I’ve really “mastered” anything. Yeah, of course I want to be great, but I think in order to be great, I want to always be learning new things from others and from the world around me to apply back into my art.
What words did you need to hear as you explored your identity?
These words from Ocean Vuong really stood out to me when I first read them. He says, “Being queer saved my life. Often we see queerness as deprivation. But when I look at my life, I saw that queerness demanded an alternative innovation from me… it made me ask, ‘Is this enough for me?’” I think he speaks to this power and total beauty in deciding to take an alternative path, to actually say no to certain fixed structures or expectations around you. I’ve found this type of rebellious or “innovative” thinking to be crucial and transformative in my existence as a person and also as a creative. It’s so liberating to say “this is what I want, and it’s different from what you might think I want.” It applies to love and partnership, and it applies so vastly beyond as well – to my career, to my community and friendships, etc. And I’m not saying that I’m super far out or particularly unique. All things considered, I’ve lived a pretty normal life. But I think when I accepted and understood myself as queer, it opened up another world of possibilities in how I defined myself and what my life could become. And that’s a beautiful thing.
What is your vision for a more just music industry?
Ooh great question. It’s so tough because the music industry is currently so steeped in structures of power. I would like to see more gender non-conforming folks, women, people of color, trans and queer people in positions of creative agency. This means the producers, the mastering engineers, the publishing houses, the record labels. I’d also like to create and participate in spaces in the music industry where community and creativity is the focal point. The word “industry” feels strange to me here – it implies that music is a commodity or an economic good. And of course it is, there’s no denying that. But at its genesis, it’s a creative act, and one of self-expression and human connection. So I’d like to participate in spaces that empower and support underrepresented voices in their/our process of music making, and to promote the creation of genuine songs and art without the pressures of the industry looming.
What’s the first concert you ever attended? What do you remember about it?
The first concert I ever attended was The Rolling Stones at Fenway Park in 2005. It was incredible and totally terrifying. I was ten years old. My brother and dad were going to the show, and my mom and I were planning to just walk around Boston that night and hang out in our hotel room. But my mom loves a good concert and is a Stones fan, and she said, “why don’t we just walk by Fenway and see if we can hear the music.” Long story short, we ended up getting two free tickets from these dudes who were giving theirs away. I walked into the sea of people and loved it. I looked over at my mom and she was almost unrecognizable, singing “she’s so cold she’s so coldddd”. I got beer spilled on me, my legs were tired, and I saw a girl almost fall from the stadium rafters. But I’ll never forget hearing 30,000 people singing the same words and the pulse of the music. I was hooked.
From Both Eyes by Nan Macmillan will be out on March 8th, 2024.