Bio:
HANA VU’s relationship with music began at ten when she taught herself to play guitar. She’d wake up every day and listen to LA’s ALT 98.7, home to ‘90s and ‘00s alternative rock; later in high school, she found the local DIY scene. She remembers, “A lot of my peer musicians were surf rock/punk type bands and so I tried to fit into that when I was gigging around. But what I was listening to at that time (ST. VINCENT, SUFJAN STEVENS) was very different from what I performed.” Ultimately she’d do her own thing, keeping a journal of bedroom pop experiments on Bandcamp, including a low-key Willow Smith collaboration and covers of THE CURE and PHIL COLLINS, before catching the ear of Gorilla vs. Bear’s Luminelle Recordings imprint, who eventually released two EPs.
„Public Storage” builds on the sound of this earlier work. It underscores her strengths as a songwriter with a deeper sense of lustre, sophistication, and urgency. She calls it “very invasive and intense sounding music,” refreshingly out of step with contemporary trends; this is music to engage with rather than lean back to. For the first time, she welcomes a co-producer, Jackson Phillips (DAY WAVE), who helps VU create a vast, grainy, multifaceted world to stretch into vocally, her distinct contralto drifting freely between evocative low-lit ruminations and soulful, skyward bursts. Sonics shift from disco synth to pulsating new wave to muscular guitar.
“I am not religious, but when writing these songs I imagined a sort of desolate character crying out to an ultimately punitive force for something more,” explains VU, who prefers abstractly personal over directly autobiographical lyrics. In finding something lost along the way in too many shuffles from place to place, VU finds a tarnished token of solace across „Public Storage”.