“Feeding Seahorses By Hand takes a magnifying glass to the outside world” proclaims the press release for the latest album by Billie Marten. And upon listening, not only does the LP do exactly that, but immersive and heartfelt lyrics span the entirety of the record, plunging you straight into the world each song details.
Here she explains each track on Feeding Seahorses By Hand in more detail alongisde some snaps of the recording process:
‘Cartoon People’
I liked the idea of an intimate relationship between Trump and his daughter, to try and create this sort of voyeuristic perspective of sleaze. Exposing people in power, revealing those darker truths in a lighter, nursery rhyme-style context. “She chooses life and then she chooses her man” describes that assumed female role, like it’s protocol. I liked playing and toying with a figure through song, it feels expressive and inventive without the threatening tone. I’m present this time around. Aware.
‘Mice’
A much older song, written on a miserable day in February last year when I took myself to Cornwall to write. I felt sort of empty and lacking a lot of purpose, this one came out of that sentiment which is why the drums are so lethargic and lazy. The chorus though, reflects how last year I didn’t know who to ‘imitate’. It seemed there were only good and bad people in black and white, and I was the anomaly in the middle. Then I went walking and “sat on a dead man’s bench” and wrote the last verse. How the earth always without fail pulls you back in. I was reading a lot of R.S Thomas at that time too, and his relationship with God I thought was interesting.
‘Betsy’
This song was written on a hot day with my friend Rich Cooper, back in 2017. it was the first time I’d tried jamming with someone and had the pressure of writing instant, spontaneous lyrics. They poured out actually. It’s about confronting a politician, no one in particular, but sort of ridiculing them. I liked the idea of using number 9 instead of 10. I didn’t want the big political stance, and I didn’t want to single out a specific human, it’s representing parliament as a whole institution really. The song turns the wise old politician into a child, infantilising them takes away their power. I think most people feel a bit unsafe with it all, because it’s impossible to relate to these characters. No one shows any personal weakness or empathy, and if they do, they’ve already cracked.
‘Blood Is Blue’
The weakness for someone, and you can’t explain yourself. Day to day, I go around morphing into others. I lose my accent and take theirs, I copy their body language, and lose a sense of self. It’s an insanity song; the slaughter and the meat, dinner table imagery, surrealism in an antiquated dystopian way. Like The Handmaid’s Tale or Animal Farm which I was reading at the time. The long mahogany table piled with food and society getting along as normal with a few bottles of scotch. The whole truth that your Blood Is Blue under your skin I liked too, it made me feel less normal. But I imagined the elitist view of Kings and Queens with blue blood, it was a nice image in my head.
‘Blue Sea, Red Sea’
‘Blue Sea, Red Sea’ was written on a horrible wintery day after I’d just moved down to London, I get S.A.D disorder real bad so my head was a bit blue. I decided to sit and write the happiest, simplest pop song I could. I was really missing my family at the time and felt like I needed to fall into a clear blue sea or something. I liked the Jewish pilgrimage to the Dead Sea, where salt strips your skin clean and everything is new again. “I don’t need you to love me” is about my struggle with needing to be independent and self-sufficient, but people are integral to your life and showing weakness is a part of life. I realised even the ones you feel have less Importance to you have meaning too, they matter. I ran out of words for the chorus, but I feel “la la la la” goes a long way in this.
‘Vanilla Baby’
A tougher one. I had that riff for so long it drove me mad but the words followed eventually. I was angry that day I remember, frustrated with how everyone interacts nowadays. No one can pick up the phone and articulate what they feel. Myself included, I was toying with this idea of vanilla and how I didn’t want that hanging over me. People can shower you with compliments regardless of how they really feel and you’re then left under that label. One person’s perception of you differs to all the rest. That scared me; the sheer volume of opinions that circle around you (or anyone) I didn’t really want to be vanilla that day.
‘Toulouse’
I moved to London and felt pretty lost so I got myself a job at a pub. I told people I was there to write, but I didn’t get anything for a really long time. It was too busy and present to reflect on anything. This song came one day, I didn’t like it at first because it wasn’t out of the ordinary and the structure and melody is so predictable, but like the pub, it didn’t need to get fancy and elaborate. I wrote it from a spectator’s view - you see a lot more from the other side of the bar. Feeling like the artist Lautrec (I’ve always loved his work) who was painting dancers in late night joints, I felt like I had to depict these characters somehow. I liked ‘Toulouse’ sounding like ‘To lose’ too - tyres a definite communal defeatism in that place but somehow the community itself survives on each other’s insecurities and weakness and that is enough to feel like you are a part of this world. I liked talking about other people for a change.
‘She Dances’
I like this one. We turned it into a sexy sort of rhumba. Out of tune bass and a little woodblock my producer, Ethan Johns had, his kitchen bin as the bass drum. It actually worked out pretty well. It’s about this character I think most people want to be. “Like the trees” and she “knows her body” explains her level of self-confidence and acceptance. This human ideal of an untroubled conscience, without ego. I like this girl a lot and I know I want to be her, she remains unselfish yet lives for herself.
‘Bad Apple’
This one talks about the guilt of being a musician. Or at least I felt like that on the day. I had this image of a teacher in the classroom 50 years on explaining all the bad decisions we made and the stupidity of everything, then how insignificant song writing felt compared to activism. Yet, I know that you should do what makes you feel happy and contented, and it’s music. It does help the planet. I like the idea of the earth being an apple, something that represents such a wholesome, fresh existence but if it drops - all of that goes. We do need to take care of ourselves but everyone’s a little unsure. I like how wavey and futuristic it becomes at the end, describing that confusion.
‘Boxes’
Again, figuring out your relevance in the world, it’s not taking yourself too seriously this one. ‘Boxes’ were the houses in London - endless and all piled on top of each other or behind, edged in every space and slowly swallowing the green and the space. So many streets full of the same thing. The chorus is sort of feeling that tiredness of monotony of daily life. And the same sentiment spreads across gender, race, origin, culture, place in society, we all feel the fatigue, for actually, no specific reason at all. I’m happiest when I’m in water floating, without a sense of space or context, weightless. That is what the ending talks of. Acceptance.
‘Anda’
I wrote this one after being in the Philippines for a few weeks. It was such a bizarre culture I didn’t integrate into it very well. It’s really just describing a day my friend and I went out on a stranger’s boat to see this volcano, completely lost and homesick, tired and reticent. But eventually we found our own haven to rest by the sea. The hostel gave us meals every night, communally we sat on a long table outside and met traveller after traveller. The first good food in weeks, it felt amazing. The sun and the sea are real important, how good it feels on your skin and how much better it can make you feel.
‘Fish’
I wrote this in Paris a while back. From then I knew it’d be the last song on the album, even before there was one. It’s simple, quiet, understated. I think it’s a happy tune talking of a lullaby existence about the simplistic way of living. Appreciating everything, because you’ve just got to. Fish have the smallest brains and they never question it. Salmon will jump endlessly without analysis, something humans do far too often. Sometimes it is good to soften and just be at ease swimming around life “like a fish’”. It sums up the record for me.
