Savannah Conley Walks Us Through Playing the Part of You is Me Track by Track

Savannah Conley Walks Us Through Playing the Part of You is Me Track by Track,Nashville singer/songwriter Savannah Conley goes in on the details of her new album, Playing the Part of You is Me, track by track.

Savannah Conley Walks Us Through Playing the Part of You is Me Track by Track

I’m hesitant to label Nashville musician Savannah Conley’s new album, Playing the Part of You is Me a debut project—and Conley shares a similar sentiment. When Conley was younger, she joined the roster of a major American label and wrote and recorded two albums for them years ago. However, they both remain unreleased, because Conley didn’t gel with the label’s mission to turn her into an Americana star. Even on Playing the Part of You is Me, that descriptor feels like a fool’s errand. Across the 11 tracks on the album, Conley outmuscles any preconceived application of genre. The result? A wholly beautiful project cascading across everything from synth pop to piano singer/songwriter to loud, anthemic blues rock.

Traversing a lifetime of grief, mental health and love both lost and unfound, her authentic debut tells the story of someone getting older and wiser and empowered. It’s intimate, determined and ambitious. Whatever the architecture of Conley’s now abandoned country career may have looked like, the version of her we have now is as electric and vulnerable and graceful. Pulling influence out of everything from Dehd to Angel Olsen, she has made a record so pastiched with every corner of rock ‘n’ roll that we’ll be returning to it for a long, long time.

With Playing the Part of You is Me out tomorrow, she walked us through all 11 songs, opening up about her mental health, bygone romances and collaborations with the producers and songwriters she trusts more than anyone else. The album is a long way from the Nashville sound Conley is surrounded by at home, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. Pre-save the LP here.

“Help Myself”This was the first track that the producer on this record, Jeremy Lutito, and I worked on together. It was the first track that made us both feel like we wanted to make more music together. It starts with a voice memo from the day I wrote it on my aunt and uncle’s piano. You can hear their dog bark in the background, the piano cover sliding back. It felt like a very natural opening to start the record.
“Muscle Memory”[With] “Muscle Memory,” I had brought in a pretty fleshed out demo to Jeremy that I had made while writing it that we stayed pretty true to. The arpeggiated synth refrain is blatantly and knowingly very “Passionfruit” inspired. It was playing in a bar I was in when the main situation that inspired the song went down, so I thought it would be fitting. Plus, I don’t think there are many people who are less likely to make “Drake-esque” music than me, so I thought it was funny.
“Contortionist”Historically, I have been known to morph myself into whoever I think the person I am dating wants me to be. It’s a horrible trait that I’ve been trying to get over my whole life. I knew I couldn’t be what this specific person wanted or needed, but I was still trying to contort myself into whatever that was.
“I Can See the Future”This one was written in the UK with Iain Archer, who I love writing with so much. We were talking about envisioning that future and convincing yourself you knew what was going to happen before it happened. I guess, essentially manifesting? I had already resigned to the fact that my relationship at the time was going to end, even though I loved the person, so it felt right to write in this tongue in cheek but also sincere song. I know I can’t predict what will happen, but it kind of feels that way when something is obviously inevitable.
“Don’t Make Me Reach”I wanted to have a quiet little cry, then scream and yell my feelings, so I did.
“Tango”Jeremy turned this one on its head in the studio. It was a song that we both knew could be cool, but just wasn’t there yet. As soon as he started playing it kind of like a waltz, it all clicked. This song has a private significance for me, but I wanted it to come across in a way that it could apply to any life relationship, not just romantic.
“More Than Fine”This one was written with Iain Archer as well. It’s about an extreme fake it til you make it situation. Posturing. I would never say any of that in reality to a real human person, but I would love to have that kind of confidence. And at that point, I could have really used it.
“To My Innocence”The day “To My Innocence” was written started out so wholesome. I was house-sitting for my parents and had brought Andrew Petroff, my cowriter, some fresh eggs from her chickens. His dogs and kids were running around. Then we went into the studio and got really pissed about politics and the selfishness of the system we live in. Fuck ’em.
“I Love You”Jack Garratt and I wrote this together in London. We had never met before, but I came in kind of on a mission to write this song, and he was so kind to let me silently/maniacally type on my computer for like over an hour writing this lyric while he built the track. There are a lot of vulnerably complicated feelings in this one. It’s hard for me to play and definitely hard to listen to, as the day I recorded the vocal on this song was the day the relationship it is about had ended.
“Past Life”I haven’t talked a lot about this song, and I’m not really sure why. My mental health is not a source of shame for me anymore, but I think I’ve almost gotten bored of hearing or talking about “the struggle” just because it feels almost mundane at this point. But, that’s ridiculous, because it’s important to talk about. I’ve had mental health struggles since I was a really little kid, but it has never felt in line with my personality or who I am. It’s always almost felt like someone else. So, I wrote this in the throes of a depression when I was feeling like surely I was someone else.
“22”Everyone talks about how incredible your twenties are, and there are aspects that absolutely are. But, they’re hard as shit too. I wrote this on my couch alone on the night of my 23rd birthday, feeling lied to by Taylor Swift. Such a pitiful image, I know, but it’s the truth. I’ve always written a lot in kind of an explosive way where everything is really small and then explodes at the end. That’s kind of how my feelings are felt, so it checks out for me. This explosion felt right to end the record. And we didn’t even plan the piano shutting the end the record, while the opening of the piano starts it out. So, that was a fun accidental easter egg for ourselves.