Bloomsday is the project of New York-based songwriter Iris James Garrison. Their new record, Heart of the Artichoke, will be out June 7, 2024, on Bayonet.
Iris James Garrison is the New York-based singer-songwriter behind Bloomsday; Blair Howerton is the New York-via-Austin singer-songwriter behind Why Bonnie. Bloomsday’s latest record, Heart of the Artichoke, was just released on Bayonet, and Why Bonnie’s Wish on the Bone will be out later this summer, August 30, via Bayonet. To celebrate, the two friends got on a Zoom call to catch up about how a certain shared history of theirs made them the artists they are now…
— Annie Fell, Editor-in-chief, Talkhouse Music
Iris James Garrison: You brought up our musical past recently.
Blair Howerton: Which we share. And, you know, it’s not the most original past — I definitely know people in the indie music scene that share this with us. But—
Iris: We all keep it pretty quiet.
Blair: [Laughs.] Yeah, it’s a shared secret.
Iris: Secret society.
Blair: Exactly. We kind of mutter it under our breath.
Iris: Yeah, so here we are, saying it out loud.
Blair: OK. Iris, will you do the honors?
Iris: [Pauses.] I am an ex-musical theater person.
Blair: Hi, Iris. I also am an ex-musical theater person. [Laughs.]
Iris: Hi, Blair. I see you and I value you.
Blair: Oh, thanks.
Iris: Recovering theater kids.
Blair: It’s real. I literally had a dream last night that I didn’t know any of my lines, and I didn’t put my costume on, and everyone else is like, “What are you doing?!” So, still haunts me to this day.
Iris: Yeah, I have those too. I have the one where you’re cast in a show, but you didn’t know the show was going on at all. No one told you it was happening and it’s the day of and you’re naked.
Blair: It’s like the classic I’m-naked-in-my-classroom dream, but on steroids because you’re on stage and everyone’s like, “You should know this.”
Iris: Yeah. The expectations are so high.
Blair: So high. Also, I think a big part about being a theater kid is the expectations you put on yourself as a youngin — and I’m talking, like, I started doing theater when I was six years old.
Iris: Yeah, I was six too.
Blair: Oh, my gosh. Yeah, it’s that age. “Mom, I want to be a star!” Then by the time you get to high school, it’s just so embedded in you. Theater kids are hard on themselves.
Iris: It’s so intense when the cast list goes up.
Blair: Exactly. I think it’s just that everything is intense. Not just the expectations you put on yourself, but the entire culture that you surround yourself with is really intense, and some might say really annoying. [Laughs.]
Iris: And we would not disagree with those people.
Blair: I don’t think so.
Iris: Does it play into my life now? I don’t know, hard to say. I feel like it doesn’t really play into the music I’m singing, necessarily. I mean, perhaps. But I feel like it does sort of make the indie music scene seem like a piece of cake, even though obviously there’s a lot of stuff that comes with being a musician that’s pretty difficult and and maddening. But being in rehearsal for a musical is the most high drama experience I’ve ever had. So nothing will ever match that. Everything is a cakewalk.
Blair: Literally. Like, “You mean we can drink beer while we’re doing this?”
Iris: Yeah. And things can just go horribly wrong on a tour or something, and I’m still like, “It’s better than tech week in high school.” Hell Week!
Blair: Hell Week!
IrIs: Where everyone’s, like, addicted to being so stressed.
Blair: There’s a really amazing Pen15 episode about Hell Week. It will kill you. It’s in the second season.
Iris: Yeah. My cringe capacity is not that high, so that show sometimes can be really rough.
Blair: It’s so rough. I love it. But you were saying that you don’t feel like it really colors much of your indie rock life. How was that transition for you?
Iris: That transition was kind of wild for me. I was trying to make it as an actor when I first moved [to New York]. I was kind of doing a split, like, Maybe I’ll be a singer, maybe I’ll be an actor. I’d gotten out of an acting program, so it was four years of college, and then I was here in New York auditioning. And I was super pissed because everything I was auditioning for was, like, college thesis assignments, Which is fine, but I’d just done four years and I was expecting a little bit more when I got out. I would get one really high-end audition here and there, and then the night before a callback, I would get the script and they’d be like, “Hey, can we see you tomorrow morning?” And I’d be like, “I have to go to work at 6 in the morning” — I was a barista. So that was pretty upsetting and disenchanting for me, because I wanted to make art and I wanted to be performing, but it felt like this really huge gatekept thing. And the people that I knew that were booking weren’t working jobs. They were just kind of living off their parents’ money.
Blair: Totally.
Iris: Probably not all of them, but the ones that I knew were doing that. So anyway, I was working at this coffee shop and people that I was working with were in this DIY scene that I had not really been privy to at all in my theater college experience. So I was stoked on Silent Barn and these other DIY venues that were around at the time. I would go to those shows, and I was like, Maybe I can just start a band? And I ended up doing that. Because I had some songs already ready to go. Over a couple months, I assembled a band, and then by the time I had the band going, I was like, OK, eff theater, I’m going to dye my hair blue.
Blair: Hell yeah.
Iris: And I got a tattoo — because they don’t let you do that. They don’t let you cut your hair or dye your hair or anything. So I sort of had a total identity crisis. I’d never really thought about my own identity before, so it was pretty intense. I came out as non-binary, and I think it had a lot to do with letting go of this theatrical persona that I was trying to fit into, and just following the green lights towards making my own work and being on my own path.
What happened for you?
Blair: Like I said, I did theater my entire life. And while I loved it, I loved all the aspects of it, I wasn’t as dedicated as some of my peers.
Iris: Totally get that.
Blair: I also loved singing more than anything else that had to do with theater. And I think the community that I grew up in didn’t foster musical expression in the way of being an indie songwriter. I didn’t know anyone my age, other than, like, two guys, that were playing shows or writing their own music. We weren’t going to our friends’ shows. There was nothing like that. It was the Playhouse Theater — that was your outlet if you wanted to be creative, especially if you wanted to sing. I was also a big choir girl. So I just stuck with that. It was also a really stabilizing and structured environment for me to grow up in, which I think was a good thing, and something I craved as a kid. Then by the time I got to high school, I was a deeply depressed teenager and I just had a fall from grace. Like, I don’t want to do this musical theater thing anymore, and if I don’t want to do that, then who the hell am I?
Iris: Totally.
Blair: And all the while, I had been writing some pretty silly songs in my bedroom, but I wasn’t trying to do anything with it. And then fast forward through college — I pretty much just coasted through college, still didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. Then towards the end of my senior year, I was like, OK, I’ve seen a lot of bands now, I’m a little more versed on the indie music scene and some more singer-songwriters that I really admire. I just felt like my world had opened up in a way that I hadn’t had before, and I was like, If I’ve always loved to sing and I’m finally finding my voice as a songwriter, I’m just gonna do it. And I was really nervous, you know?
Iris: Oh, my god. Those first shows, I didn’t know where to even plug the guitar in.
Blair: Oh, yeah, I didn’t know anything. But I just fucking went for it. Moved to Austin, hit the ground running. If I don’t do this now, I’ll never do it. That’s kind of where it all began. But it was a really rocky and weird road, finding my voice as a songwriter.
Iris: Yeah, I hear that. It was interesting when you said “opened my world up.” I remember hearing artists that I look up to now for the first time — I think it was Frankie Cosmos or something like that, that broke through.
Blair: Iris, same. It was Frankie Cosmos’s Zentropy. I listened to that album on repeat.
Iris: So much. It was so intense. It was like an awakening. That was a turning point for me. I was like, This is a thing? Cool. Then when I moved to Brooklyn, I was like, Oh, there’s an entire ecosystem of this! I had no idea. I think also, the DIY scene… First of all, I moved to New York City when Trump had just been elected, so it was a very tense time, and people were really adamant about self-expression and kind of coming into, “Who the hell are you?” I feel like the question of, who are you and what are you up to and what do you stand for?, was much more potent in those years. So that also played into not wanting to just say a script that somebody else wrote, and being like, What is my voice?
But what was rocky about the road for you, like in the beginning of writing songs?
Blair: I think I didn’t know what I wanted to sound like. Those songs that I had written in high school were pretty country pop. I’m from Texas, so I grew up with The Chicks…
Iris: The Chicks were so good.
Blair: The Chicks were big in my life. So I had been writing stuff like that in secret, and in college and in my early days of being in a band, that wasn’t cool yet. [Laughs.] So I was like, I gotta make something that people want to listen to, because I want to be a part of this DIY world. I loved shows, I loved the community and it was just all really fun and exciting. And I was like, In order to be in that, I need to write some more rock songs.
Iris: I remember that feeling, too. And then I almost feel like, as you get more comfortable and you start to write some of those, then you’re like, OK, well, now I’m going to bring in that other influence that I’m actually fueled by. I feel like now, I really like James Taylor and Carole King, and those things can start to influence my music again instead of being like, Oh, that was just what my mom played in the car and no one’s going to think that’s cool. I feel like that’s even cooler, when you’ve gotten over the hump.
Blair: Yeah. I definitely see myself as an artist that is evolving and might be a late bloomer to some people. But I didn’t decide to really incorporate that twang, Texan background until we made our first full length album, 90 In November. It was a big shift compared to the stuff we had released before, but I remember being like, If I’m going to make this shift, I have to make it now. And I’m glad I did.
Iris: It’s so authentic. You’re sharing not only your self, but your environment. It really brings you into that.
Blair: Thank you. But to kind of bring it all back to where you come from, I think writing music has been such a good tool for me — even when I don’t know that I’m doing it, just the process of it has really taught me how to trust myself and listen to myself and not second guess. Because going back to us being theater kids, this is all semi-new to us. I mean, now I’ve been doing it for almost 10 years, but…
Iris: Also, I wasn’t comfortable for a while with singing my own words. I think writing those songs in private, I did the same — I was like, I’m not gonna probably share these. They’re just really for me. And once in a while, I would play an open mic or something. But then people wanted to record the music, and over time I started to be more comfortable with sharing. But then you start to be like, Well, what am I even saying? Who am I? And that conversation between my insecurity self and my songwriting self is definitely a relationship that’s continuing to change and grow. I’m starting to become less self-conscious and more comfortable letting what comes to me be, instead of being like, Is that good? That was a hard one for me to trust, because I was so used to performing other words, singing songs that were already written. Then for it to be like, What am I writing and saying? And how does this song structurally feel? Having control over that was has been a really interesting thing to learn. And I’m always going to be learning it.
It’s also cool when artists change their aesthetic or make different choices based on where they’re at. Sort of having an archival journey of self that we get to have throughout our life, that’s kind of awesome. It’s different than theater, which is very ephemeral, and really doesn’t have anything to do with you at all.
Blair: Being in theater, everything is building up to this one show, which you’ll do for a week or two weeks or however many times. Or if you’re on Broadway, you’re doing it for a year.
Iris: But sometimes it would be a weekend and it would still be, like, absolute end-of-the-world feeling.
Blair: Right. I would cry every time.
Iris: Yeah, oh, my god, weep. Also the reliance on others and you’re all working on this thing and you all have a different vision of what that thing is — I happily have let that go. Because I don’t think it was really healthy for me to be around all these people that were bringing in so many expectations to something that ultimately was not theirs. I mean, it was a shared thing and everyone was a part of it. I feel like every show I did in theater, people were like, “We’re a family now!”
Blair: Oh yeah.
Iris: And I started to realize that I couldn’t really get attached to people, because I might never see them again. So that’s, I think, a welcome difference with music. These are long term relationships with people that you work with. Even you and I, people that are in other bands — those are relationships that you keep and build, and sort of go through the journey together. I feel like, at least for me, I don’t think I connected with theater people enough to have that sort of thing, because they were away and always unavailable. That was sort of their goal, to be constantly away. Which you could say touring musicians, similarly, might have that same goal — but there’s different versions of how you can navigate things.
Blair: Yeah. Not to backtrack, but I think you and I share that we came to being songwriters, 1. because we wanted to express ourselves, but 2. because we love to sing so much.
Iris: Yeah, so much.
Blair: I’m such a nerd for it, and it’s been another kind of journey trying to retrain my voice from being this musical theater voice.
Iris: Yeah, totally. I went sort of extreme with that.
Blair: Which, don’t get me wrong — I still get chills when I hear people belting their Broadway songs.
Iris: Oh, my god, yeah. Cynthia Erivo, “I’m Here,” from The Color Purple? It’s amazing. It’s, like, athletic.
Blair: It is. It really is like a sport after a while. Whereas being a songwriter, being in a band, it changes so often. There’s so much change and variety and chance that it’s just a totally different way of being. But that need to express yourself is still there. I think something that’s definitely held over and helped me since theater days is being comfortable on stage.
Iris: Yeah, definitely. That’s like the number one thing. I totally agree. Because from such a young age, I still have a core memory of wearing some kind of wig — I think it was The Wizard of Oz — and my wig fell off, and the show just went on. And so the embarrassment of having a thing go wrong on stage — so many repeat things of that nature happened in my life that the fear of something going wrong on stage, I’m, like, kind of immune to at this point. I’m like, Yep, that’s just part of the live experience.
Blair: Totally.
Iris: The audience being there is only going to be energizing for me, as opposed to being scared that they’re there.
Blair: Yeah, I have a similar experience. I was 7 or 8, and for some showcase I got to sing a solo. I sang “Tomorrow” from Annie, and I’m out on stage — full crowd — and I forgot all the words. I just stood out there and waited for the song to end. [Laughs.]
Iris: [Laughs.] Oh, my god.
Blair: And then I broke down into tears, of course.
Iris: Did you have the whole song? The whole song was your solo?
Blair: Yeah! Which I think was much too responsibility for a little girl, honestly.
Iris: Yeah, like, maybe just a little verse.
Blair: Yeah. I was fucking mortified. But now it’s like, you’re on stage and you’re getting to play the songs you wrote, and if you fuck up, you fuck up.
Iris: You’re like, LOL, I sang that chorus twice and no one even noticed. Or, I feel like the band often after the show will be like, “Yo, did you see when my pedalboard completely shut off?” And I’m like, “Nope. Didn’t even notice.” It’s definitely nice to have that background.
Blair: Yeah. Well, in conclusion— [Laughs.]
Iris: In conclusion, our records are coming out.
Blair: [Laughs.] I mean, whenever I think back on my journey as an artist, while things are happening — I’ll regret something or I’ll wish that I had studied something different, or played a different show or lived somewhere else — and it’s so easy to get wrapped up in those questions while you’re in it. But looking back, I am really thankful that I got to figure it out myself.
Iris: And ultimately, it just changed. I mean, we’re still performing. I’m sure my five year old self would still be pretty hyped. I’m just not playing, like, a lead on Broadway — but now that I know what that actually is, I don’t think I want that. You know, if I explained it to that kid, “Yeah, you’re going to be working eight shows a week, and you won’t necessarily have a social life…”
Blair: “Come over to indie rock and you can hang out with all your slacker friends.”
Iris: [Laughs.] “Drinking beers and playing shows.”
Blair: Beer makes my stomach hurt.
Iris: I like it. I like it for singing. That’s actually my my pre-show ritual.
Blair: In conclusion, beer is good for your voice.
Iris: That’s an expert tip right there!
(Photo Credit: left, Desdemona Dallas; right, Julia Khoroshilov)
