“Gliding and sensual”: Julia Holter’s new album ‘Something in the Room She Moves’ is a rumination on love in its deepest form

“I wanted this fluid kind of sound, the sound to bend around.”

It’s midday in Melbourne and just after 5pm in Los Angeles, where singer-songwriter and composer Julia Holter is cooking chicken soup.

Her sixth album, Something in the Room She Moves, is due out in a few weeks. “It’s been a long time coming,” she says, her voice measured between chops of onion. “I finished it over a year ago – I’ve never had that long of a gap between release and finishing, so I’m really ready. I’m happy.”

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What’s so arresting about Julia’s work is its ability to capture feelings; often feelings that seem impossible to describe through words alone. On Something in the Room She Moves, she turns her focus away from the dreamlike dizziness of her previous work and towards something more internal and submerged.

“The comparison I always make is that I have this record from 2012 called Ekstasis, and that’s kind of like being outside of one’s self, and this record is more like being inside one’s self,” she tells me.

This reflects what Julia was going through when she was crafting the album. Pregnant for the first time and in the throes of the COVID-19 pandemic, she found herself searching for new ways to feel inspired. Now, with the coos of her daughter watching TV in the background, she says the experience of being a parent has transformed the way she relates to the world.

“I think being present… I think that’s been good for me for sure. And just feeling love more intensely –” she sniffs. “I’m not crying, I’m just having my onion reaction, I promise. It’s a big ass onion, I’m sorry.”

“I think just generally that feeling of if you have a kid or you find love, long-term love that’s super deep – whether it’s having a kid or having a partner or whatever – you’re terrified of it going away. That kind of love is so intense. Just being in love in the deepest way – whereas in the past I would sing about troubadour love or love from afar.”

Themes of motherhood and the human form are found in the lyrics. In her recent single ‘Spinning’, where Julia sings about “circular magic” and “becoming fish” – a nod to the murky, quasi-human state of a baby before it’s born, but also Studio Ghibli’s Ponyo, following the story of a fish that transforms into a human.

But perhaps what’s more interesting is the sonic palette, rich and textural, which fully immerses the listener in its tidal ebbs and flows. Anchored by a Yamaha CS-60 synthesiser, the album is decorated with manic clarinet, reverberating chimes and peppered percussion.

Fretless bass lines by renowned composer Devin Hoff lend to the album’s underwater feel. For them, Holter took inspiration from the production of the 1980 Kate Bush single ‘Breathing’ which traces the post-apocalyptic tale of a foetus in a mother’s womb frightened by nuclear fallout.

“Somehow there’s this body element to this song, too. Because of COVID, I was thinking a lot about breathing and lungs and stuff.” Holter’s fine-tuned command of her voice is the icing on top. Sometimes it’s light and airy, other times it’s warbled and stretched, like rubbing the surface of a balloon.

“I wanted this fluid kind of sound, the sound to bend around,” she says. “My initial thought was [to] start with a languid approach, kind of slow and portamento sliding, and then [for] the vocal part to be really gliding and sensual somehow.”

While it’s hard not to get swept up in the aquatic mystique Holter has built, the true brilliance of the album lies in its meticulous precision. Each moment has been crafted with care for the greatest impact: the whirring crescendos, the varied instrumentation, the order of the songs… everything. It’s a chill-inducing experience.

At a time when the music industry seems to be getting more and more commercial, it’s refreshing to hear from an artist who feels no need to rush. Deliberation radiates out of her, from the thoughtful way she responds to my questions (even has her daughter interrupts her for cheese bunnies) to the length of her tracks, many of which clock in around six minutes.

“I don’t think that much about doing things quickly. I’m aware that things are that way, but I don’t feel pressure to be popular really. I just hope that I can keep making the music I want to make the way I’ve done it, which is increasingly harder, I think. But I think it’s still possible. So far, it’s okay.”

Listen to Something in the Room She Moves now here. You can follow Julia for more here.