Returning to the Intrigue of Youth: A Conversation with Eve Owen

By Zoe Raines

Photo by Chris Almeida

Photo by Chris Almeida

I convened with British singer/songwriter Eve Owen via Zoom call — on my end, over an early morning cup of coffee and a raging thunderstorm. On Owen’s end, however, all seemed calm and quiet, mid-afternoon in London. Traversing timezones, countries, and climates, our conversation was a glimpse at what everyone yearns for during the pandemic: a momentary grounding.

The grounded element comes from Owen. At just twenty years old, ripe with optimistic vitality, she takes old-soul pauses to ponder deeply. She’s not only considering the question you’ve just asked her but considering her own response, constantly reevaluating her worldview. This thinking-out-loud quality shines in her debut album, Don’t Let the Ink Dry.

The album is the culmination of three expansive years of Owen’s life, an intensely lyrical journal where her lived experiences become fodder for whimsical, transformative folk tunes. Owen’s willingness to self-reflect, to process out loud, and share that with us — to be vulnerable, is what gives her melancholy folk music a true stickiness. 

Vulnerability isn’t a craft choice, it’s just inherent in the way Owen operates. She admits, “Mainly, vulnerability impacts me as a person. I’ve never walked into a new situation not feeling vulnerable, it’s just something I’ve always carried in myself. But, I think vulnerability, especially in art, is the highest form of beauty in a way because there’s so much honesty in embracing fear rather than hiding from it — in celebrating fear, certain adrenaline can come out of it.”

From her willingness to be vulnerable, Owen then spins her whimsical folktale narratives. “What I love doing,” she says of her music and lyrics, “is processing my life and things that happen to me through stories I make up. I involve all these different characters and incorporate this whole other world so that you’re so intrigued by this other land that you can’t really feel the sadness of the situation anymore if that makes sense?”

It does — as soon as you listen to her opening track, Tudor, a spellbinding exploration of Owen’s own battles against isolation, where she sings “I once knew of a wild lion tame with chains to his name / He was lonely.” Like any good folktale, her song’s willingness to confront the problem at hand becomes a source of comfort and a cure for that same ailment.

I would be remiss not to mention that Owen’s prolific songwriting caught the attention of The National’s Aaron Dessner. Dessner invited Owen to record at Long Pond Studio, a converted barn and old farmhouse deep in the Hudson Valley, a fairytale setting perfectly matched to the fantasy of Owen’s music. 

“Working with Dessner,” Owen reflects, “one of the things I’m most thankful for is not even just making music with him, but getting to watch his process and see how he, as someone who’s one of the best at what they do, [how he] carries himself, how he listens to each person in the room, and how he lets others talk.” 

As someone who is quick to share, Owen recognizes that quality in others and admires it. In addition to taking in every moment of mentorship from Dessner, Owen cites her current folk influences as Bob Dylan and Joan Baez. But she’s quick to clarify that, “They have such a condensed body of work. I take one song at a time, hear it, think about it for a few months, and then go to the next one. I have their entire catalogue of music to get through in my life, so I’m spreading it out and savoring it.” 

From the thoughtfulness of how she shares with others to appreciating what others have to share with her, Owen’s completely un-jaded passion is something she hopes to keep thriving. “I think over time, you can get blunted, like a pencil, so things are less sharp,” Owen muses. “When you’re a teenager, everything feels so sharp — all these new experiences, they cut really deep, whether that’s in a good way or a bad way. Going back to that intrigued state when you’re young and everything is new and exciting, and your imagination is so vivid, that’s the state I keep going back to.”

It’s all these things that make Owen’s debut album a force to be reckoned with. Don’t Let the Ink Dry is a a truly sharp experience that will shock the system of anyone who listens. This album is sure to make listeners stop and remember what it’s like to operate with her refreshing sensibilities — to be young, to be continually growing up and always learning, to feel things deeply again.

Hooligan Magazine