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Allegra Krieger on her new album and the cathartic power of songwriting

On September 13, Allegra Krieger releases her new album Art Of The Unseen Infinity Machine, her third record in just two years. Here, she joins Headliner for an insightful look at the devastating circumstances that framed its creation, her life in music, and the challenges of being an independent artist in 2024…

You can listen to this interview here or read on below.

There is an innate intimacy to New York-based singer songwriter Allegra Krieger’s work that permeates each of the five records she has made to date. From the folky, homespun, acoustic nature of her previous two albums Precious Thing (2022) and I Keep My Feet On The Fragile Plane (2023), to her latest outing, the more expansive band-oriented Art Of The Unseen Infinity Machine, her knack for detailing the minutiae of the human condition seems to grow more incisive from one record to the next.

The coolness of her voice and the delicacy with which it is delivered enables her to glide seamlessly from the humdrum to the profound - one moment depicting billboard advertisements and grimy sidewalks, the next striking at the heart of love, life, and death. Nearly always to breathtaking effect.

With Art Of The Unseen Infinity Machine, she has managed to retain, and at times enhance, that intimate aspect of her music. On earlier releases, the no frills, DIY capture of Krieger’s voice accompanied by a sole acoustic guitar leant itself naturally to a sense of closeness between artist and listener. This time out, her compositions feel more open, looser, less tightly wound. Most of the songs employ a full band, which perhaps surprisingly adds to the sense of space on the record as opposed to filling it. The unhurried, sometimes sparse arrangements deftly couching Krieger’s vocals and melodies rather than pulling focus from them.

The sonic expansion exhibited on the record is a reflection of some significant changes in Krieger’s life. Though several songs were written over two years ago, the shape they take today is very different to their original form.

“The oldest song on the record I wrote around 2022, but a lot of change happened throughout that whole process of writing,” a bright sounding Krieger tells Headliner, joining us over the phone whilst walking the streets of New York on a warm summer’s morning. “I had some transition in my life. I was touring a lot more, I started a new relationship, I had housing things going on, so there was a lot of movement, especially compared to the previous album when there was a lot of stability. I was staying in one place and the songs were more inward looking. This one feels a little bit more outward reaching. It definitely addressed bigger themes rather than the smaller details.”

The “housing things” and “bigger themes” of which she speaks can be largely attributed to a devastating fire that engulfed Krieger’s NYC apartment block in 2023. The blaze, which forced her into temporary hotel accommodation for a year while reconstruction work was carried out on the building, also claimed the lives of some of her neighbours – a subject she addresses directly on the stark One Or The Other, which is discussed in due course.

“I lived above an e-bike shop and there was a battery fire,” she says, explaining how events unfolded and the aftermath she endured. “Thankfully it didn’t take out my entire apartment, but I did have to vacate for a year, and I just got back a couple of weeks ago. I’ve been cleaning everything up, painting, throwing things away. It’s under construction still but I’m definitely happy to be home. I was touring a lot and then also based out of a hotel, so there was a lot of instability.

“I think that displacement really affected me,” she continues. “I had a really creative attachment to my apartment; I had a nice routine. I would write in the morning, and I really do like being in one place, and I have a harder time writing when I’m on the move. But when I was back in my hotel room, I was still able to feel that creative spark, and generally I can write wherever I am. I don’t really know how to control it right now, but place is definitely important to me.”

My guitar still smelled of smoke, and I was still in shock at what happened. Allegra Krieger

Today, she is relieved to be back home, thankful for the return of some balance and stability in her life. Much like her vocal delivery in song, her tone in conversation is possessed of a thoughtfulness and a calmness that can be disarming, as she recalls her emotions on going back to her apartment for the first time.

“It was definitely strange at first,” she says. “I wasn’t totally sure if I was going to be able to go back. At first, they were saying it’ll be two or three months, then it was another two months, and I had no idea what was going on. And unfortunately, there were some deaths in the fire, so there were potentially lawsuits happening. There was a lot of information I didn't receive. I’d just gotten back from a tour in Europe and the day I got back the people at the hotel were like, you have to go now because your building is ready. 

“The fire happened at night when I was asleep and that was a scary experience, so there was some adjustment to sleeping there again. But I was just grateful my piano was still there, and that there was only a little bit of damage. It was nice to be back. And there was this communal camaraderie with my neighbours who had been through it all. Some of those had been there for like 50 years."

The aforementioned One Or The Other was the first song Krieger wrote after the fire. It details the night the events unfolded, as well as her last exchange with one her neighbours who died that evening. It’s an exercise in catharsis and one of the most moving and poignant moments on the record.

“That song was written right after the fire happened,” she elaborates. “I was in temporary housing and a week after the fire everyone was able to go back in to get valuables, so I went back in and got my guitar and my computer, whatever I could carry out. I got back to my hotel and my guitar still smelled of smoke, and I was still in shock at what happened. And that song came pretty quickly. When I’m in a hyper emotional state I write a little bit more directly. It’s pretty matter of fact lyrically and it felt really good to write down what I’d been through and what happened and how I was feeling. It came in a day.”

One of the most defining features of Krieger’s career so far has been the prolificness of her output. Art Of The Unseen Infinity Machine is her third album in two years, highlighting her propensity for writing and releasing at pace.

“I love just getting them out of my brain, out of my body,” she explains. “I used to put a lot of voice memo EPs on Bandcamp. I’m already working on another album. I don’t have a timeline right now, but I have the songs for another record. I feel like once I record an album it immediately frees up the time to write more. I like to document things, release them, and then move on. It’s a constantly moving process.

“I actually find collecting the songs for an album to be the harder part. Typically, I’ll have a lot written and when I have the opportunity to make a record, or there are too many piling up, I’ll try to sort through the songs that stick with me and maybe share a common theme or sound. For this record I chose songs that I thought could work with a band played live. I wanted to capture the sound of my live band shows, which happen infrequently, but I love to play with a band. I wanted them to have that expansiveness. Structurally they are a little bit simpler, which I think allows the band to take up the space, rather than what happens with my more twirly songs [laughs].”

I like to document things, release them, and then move on. It's a constantly moving thing. Allegra Krieger

One of the drawbacks of releasing music so frequently is the seemingly endless list of tasks that come with it, Krieger adds. Like most independent artists navigating today’s music industry, the weight of promoting a record, marketing it, and organising tours has fallen largely on her shoulders. Now, for the first time, she is working with NYC label Double Whammy to alleviate some of the pressure.

“Those are the parts I really don’t like, and I’m not very good at,” she half laughs, half sighs. “There are some artists that have such vision for their record and the body of work they are putting out, and I really respect that in musicians. I envy that mentality, but I don’t feel the same way. For me they are just songs that I’ve written that hopefully people connect with. And releasing music allows people to connect with your live performance and that’s my favourite part of making music.

“This is my first album release cycle with a manager and a booking agent, and it’s totally different. That’s why I feel like there are more things happening. I have a day job, I’m disorganised. Maybe I’m just not good at it, but it’s been really helpful to have other people who care about your livelihood and your music and want people to hear it. I’m so grateful for that. I still don’t love the energy around pre-release. I’d like to just record and put it straight out there. By the time you release it you’re over it, or at least I am sometimes. But there is a process for a reason, so I’m along for the ride.

“The main thing is having somebody help organise tours. I used to book all my own tours, and they were very DIY. A successful show would be 10 or 15 people there, and I was like, 'Yes'! And then I would camp outside. You don’t make money but it’s fun.”

The focus of our conversation shifts at this point back to her earliest memories of music, from the artists that both ignited her passion for it and inspired her to begin writing her own material.

“Music was always part of my life,” she says, the sound of traffic and passers-by occasionally punctuating our dialogue as she continues her walk through the city. “I loved listening to music on my Walkman; I could pass a whole day just daydreaming listening to music. I played piano as a kid, too, and I danced. But the light switch moment was when I discovered Fiona Apple. My aunt lived in New York, and she lived across the street from a dance school where I took a class. They taught a dance for Sleep To Dream by Fiona Apple and I thought it was the coolest thing ever. And it was around the same time I discovered Jeff Buckley who was also huge for me. That was around middle school time. I always loved music, but the songwriting came later.”

So when did the urge to start writing occur?

“In high school I had just moved to Pennsylvania, and I found this Elliott Smith record, she says. “I wasn’t sure lyrically if I understood what was happening, but I loved the sound of it, the cadence, and there were little lines that really stood out to me. And the emotional side of it was really cathartic for me at the time. So, I started writing songs around that point but they were very poppy and very melodramatic, like ‘my husband cheated on me’ [laughs]. That kind of thing – things that I’d read in books or saw in movies.

“I tried going to music school, but it didn’t really work out. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do and was kind of aimless for a while. Then I ended up doing this job tree planting and decided I didn’t like this lifestyle anymore. So, I moved to New York after that - I had some friends there from music school who helped me make my first musical project. I kept playing shows and doing my thing in the city, working, and now I’m here, I guess [laughs].”

Despite being five acclaimed albums into her career, Krieger still views her place in the world of music through a somewhat philosophical lens. She takes nothing for granted, almost embracing the transitory nature of the business as it stands today. At present, she is able to balance her musical commitments while working in bars across the city as and when she needs to. Rather than try to figure out what the future may hold, she is content to exist in the present.

“It is a juggling act,” she says. “I’m in this place where it's hard to keep a job with touring as frequently as I do. And it’s frequent but not frequent enough, as I still have months of down time. There are two bars in the city I have worked at for a number of years so I’m lucky that I am able to hop in whenever they’ll have me. I’m juggling a chaotic lifestyle for now because it works and it’s the simplest way to have reliable sources of income with the flexibility to tour. But if one day I am not able to provide for myself through touring… [she trails off for a moment]. I’m just going to keep doing this until I get too tired and then maybe go back to school. I’m not sure. But I still have the energy, and we’ll see if touring will get busier, maybe play bigger rooms.

“I don’t think I ever expected it to be a career of any sort,” she ponders. “And I don’t have that expectation even still, it’s just something I enjoy and is important to my wellbeing. Probably [laughs].”

Art Of The Unseen Infinity Machine is released on September 13.

Cloud photo by Joshua Chang, lead photo by Killian Krieger