If you are seeking to know Girlseeker, you will find no one. If you call "1-800-GREED," the title of their LP debut, you won't get an answer; but if you listen hard, you may just hear transmissions from the late Frank Zappa whispering the question you were aching to ask.
Girlseeker speak thru paradox. Even as I was conducting this trans-Atlantic gchat interview between LA to Copenhagen, their responses were sometimes more like riddles than answers. Their music is equally enigmatic, slipping between echoes of '80s hair metal, keyboards played in an empty gymnasium at a rural high school jazz recital, and a lone baritone voice summoning stray dogs from a far canyon. The melodies are familiar but unplaceable, emerging from a place where amnesia would seem to preclude memory. Here, you cry in order to remember how to laugh, crash ashore to remember how high the waves took you, seek solice in shadows to remember what the sun felt like. Without memory, there is no nostalgia. Without time, there is no apocalypse. When I asked Girlseeker to describe their music, they said it sounds like “NOW."
This I do know: When I first discovered Girlseeker, I felt like I hadn’t just discovered a new band, but a new emotion. I listen to them and forget where I am and what I am, but most of all, I remember why I listen to music-- to dwell in that lonely space between everywhere and nowhere, and render it beautiful.