Marisa Dabice on the unconventional path to Mannequin Pussy’s Perfect EP
Mannequin Pussy knew it wanted to make new music. The Philadelphia band needed a creative outlet for the complex emotions its members were feeling during the pandemic and one of the most challenging years in recent memory. To assemble their new songs, bandleader Marisa Dabice, Kaleen Reading, Thanasi Paul (who left the band after recording Perfect) and Colins “Bear” Regisford knew swapping new material and ideas via email and Zoom wouldn’t work, so the trio got into a studio together in a safe manner last summer, and allowed themselves to revisit and reimagine old material as well as craft fresh songs. The resulting EP, Perfect, explores the pop-tinged sound the band leaned into in Patience, juxtaposed with punk rippers “Pigs Is Pigs” and the title track. The A.V. Club caught up with Dabice back in April to discuss what working on Perfect during the pandemic was like, how the EP ended up including the band’s most political song yet, and Japanese Breakfast’s Michelle Zauner role in encouraging Dabice to direct her own music videos.
The A.V. Club: You started working on Perfect in the midst of the pandemic, but when did the writing process begin?
Marisa Dabice: I think we started working on it in about late August, I believe. But we have been talking for a long time about—we tried to do the thing that other bands were saying they were doing, where they’re like, “Oh, we’re sharing ideas through email, and we’re recording little demos at home and doing that,” and we just all were like, “I can’t think of anything. I feel so numb.” I think when you’re numb and you’re feeling depressed and all those things, it doesn’t really make for creativity. So we were like, “Okay, then what can we do that would be a way around the fact that this isn’t working? The only way this would work is if we could actually get into a room together.” So we just booked studio time without really having anything to record. We were like, “Okay, well, we’ll force ourselves into it, and hopefully it won’t be a waste of time.” So I think the first session was like, end of August. A few sessions in between then, and then I think my last session with Will [Yip] was in January and we finished mixing it in February.
AVC: It does feel like a very emotionally charged EP. What was it like to try to put all your complicated emotions from everything going in the pandemic into these songs?
MD: It was recorded in 2020, which is the year I think we’re all gonna remember [as the pandemic year]. But all the emotions and the themes that we talk about are feelings that exist well beyond the confines or the context of the pandemic; all the emotions that we explore on it are things that we walk around with all the time. If anything, we’re just heightened by the fact that we were stuck in this place in a period of so much reflection, and not just on ourselves but where our society is at.
AVC: You’ve been really vocal about how difficult it was to be a musician who had just started doing music full-time, and having to go into a pandemic without knowing how to make the same kind of income without touring. Do you think that working on the EP made you feel like things were kind of back to normal?
MD: Yeah, for the moments that we were in the studio, just physically present in the studio, there were moments when I forgot what was going on. And that’s just this moment of peace, where you’re back in this familiar setting, you’re back in a communal group, you’re back collaborating with your favorite people to collaborate with, and suddenly things feel normal for a moment. And then the moment you step outside of the studio, you’re immediately reminded “Okay, no, things aren’t actually normal. I just had an eight-hour period where I almost forgot, because I was back with people again, and now I’m going home alone to isolate until I see them again.” [Laughs.] So yeah, it was absolutely a lifeline last year, to have this thing, going in, not having really any songs except for “Control,” and then suddenly having something to be like, “Oh, I have something to work on again, I have something to obsess over, I have something to pour all the words I’ve been searching for into.” I keep coming back to that “lifeline” analogy, just those moments that felt normal.
AVC: I’m sure that writing it also felt therapeutic.
MD: I think you never sometimes really know what the themes are of an album until after it’s done, and you are listening back, and you’re like, “Oh, okay, we were really feeling something there.” So much of what Mannequin Pussy songs have always been is finding themselves somewhere in the process of grief. So my theory has always been, “Why would I write the same aggressive song over and over if the way that we feel about situations that have happened in our lives, the way that we feel about experiences that have happened in our life, do change over time?” The five stages of grief—first you deny that it happened to you, then you get very angry that it happened to you, then you get depressed that it happened to you, then bargaining is one but I wouldn’t know how to put that into a song. And eventually you have acceptance.