Back in 2017, Sally Dige released the extraordinary darkwave record Holding On, a DKA Records/Avant! release forged in a similar soundscape to the likes of modern artists and then-labelmates Boy Harsher and carrying elements of Joy Division and early The Cure, albeit more danceable than the latter groups. Her latest album, the self-released Holding the Sun, is a noticeable departure from much of that. It’s not a synth- and drum machine-heavy, solo affair. Rather, she brings in collaborators who play instruments like acoustic drums, electric bass and cello, and she herself added guitar to flesh out the arrangements.
When the record dropped in July, it shouldn’t have surprised fans and followers of the Berlin-based, Canada-born Danish artist, though. “It’s You I’m Thinking Of,” the album’s stunning opener, came out in January 2020 via her own Dige Records and showcased a real and noble truth: Whatever genre, instrumentation, or arrangement Dige uses, the music is inherently her. She might not sound as much like the darker, more electronic side of 1980s new wave and subsequent revivalists, but “It’s You” and other of the album’s eight entries do give off an essence of bands like Echo and the Bunnymen and The Wild Swans. I want to emphasize this: Her material isn’t a copy of any of the bands I’ve mentioned. The music is inherently Sally. She is still blending the old and the new, the classic and the contemporary, with her sharp songwriting and deep vocals as an anchor.
Dige’s shifting stylistic expressions haven’t been a seamless creative journey for her, though, she told Vehlinggo in a Zoom chat recently.
“I sometimes have those crisis moments where I… look at my discography and there’s synth ‘80s/italo/post-punk to some of the sounds from my second album, and then this one [has] some of these almost country tracks and piano,” Dige said. “I’m like, who am I? These are moments where I think I’m just a ghost or something.”
In our chat — edited and condensed for length and clarity — Dige tells more of the story of the making of Holding the Sun, and bit more about her life and the communitarian nature of Berlin artists. Saxophones and Talk Talk are mentioned, among other things.
Vehlinggo: I’m curious about your shift from the primarily electronic, synthesizer driven sound on 2017’s Holding On to this year’s Holding the Sun, which has more of a full-band arrangement: acoustic drums, guitars, and live cello and violin, among other things. You started this shift in 2020, with the first single off the record, “It’s You I’m Thinking Of,” and it’s fully realized on Sun. What is the root of this creative choice?
Sally Dige: To begin with, as I was trying to work on the new album, after my second one [Holding On]; and as I was putting together the track list, I didn’t really feel inspired by it. I was writing the songs the same way. Of course, you can find new things, even in electronic music, but I’m a person who needs things to be difficult. This was becoming easy. I could just put it all down the same way and finish the song. And I was like, well, where’s the exploration?
A friend had lent me his guitar, and it was fun to actually get to play [that instrument] again, because I’ve just only had a synth this whole time. It was very nice to go back to playing with my hands, without electricity, without media. It was quite inspiring. And then it happened that I was visiting a friend and he had a bunch of instruments, including a mandolin. I’d always wanted to play a mandolin, but I never got one because I’m a person that, for example, when I want to look at an instrument online I see so many options that I just don’t want to buy anything.
He lent [the mandolin] to me so I could play it at home. That’s when I put it on the track “It’s You I’m Thinking Of.” I was like, wow, actually, it was just so exciting to play a different instrument that I hadn’t played before.
And then I thought, why don’t I just start playing these acoustic instruments? Especially because I had showed that song to some friends and there was a very good reception to it. That’s when I thought, well, why don’t I just ditch everything that I had been writing with these electronic songs and just go fully into this acoustic instrumentation?
And also, too, I was always inspired by the band Talk Talk, which started out as a synth band. I was reading all of the interviews with [leader] Mark Hollis with him talking about how there was this timelessness when you bring in acoustic instrumentation. So that’s when I thought, OK, I will try it like this. And for me, it was very exciting to bring in new instruments that I hadn’t played before.

Talk Talk is definitely a great example of the shift. There are, well, a lot of bands that sound like themselves regardless of what they use in their songs. I think you fall into this category, too. Whatever type of song you write, and whatever instrumentation you use, it’s still a Sally Dige song. And that is really exciting as a listener to hear — that different dimension of creative exploration.
I’m happy that you say it sounds like me. I think I had a bit of an inner crisis about this album. I was just like, does this sound like me? What do I sound like? Who am I? I have no identity. And a friend said, “No, it’s your voice that glues it together.”
“A friend said, ‘No, it’s your voice that glues it together.'”
When I first heard “It’s You I’m Thinking Of,” which dates back to 2020, I thought about the way it served as a transition between the synth-centered Holding On and what you might be up to in the future, but I wasn’t sure. And it turns out I did get the hint. This isn’t the dark, nostalgic synth realm in which some of your previous work operated.
A reason I started my own label [Dige Records] is because I felt like I wouldn’t be able to fit back into that scene so easily. I was showing my stuff to labels and it wasn’t really sticking. So I thought, ah, maybe I’ll do my own label, then I won’t have to worry about where I fit into what scene.
And if I don’t sell any records and if no one likes it, then it’s not a loss for the label. It’s my own loss. So then I stopped caring about what would happen if it’s a total failure. If everyone hates it, who cares? I mean, it’s all on me at that point.
That sounds like it’s incredibly freeing, but I also wonder if that makes everything harder? If you’re tackling all facets of a creative project — not just writing and recording the music, but also manufacturing and distro and having to deal with social media and PR — is that a giant challenge? Or is this basically what a musician has to do these days anyway?
It’s two things, I would say. On one hand, it’s fine because I’ve learned so much in this process, I am really grateful and lucky that I have my partner who helps me. So it’s the two of us. And yeah, we’ve learned a lot and it’s been really cool to see from that side of it. But it is also very, very tiring. It takes up a lot of time, of course.
So I sometimes feel like, oh, I just wish I could just be an artist and just focus on making songs. But you have to do the research on finding the right manufacturing and dealing with all that and doing the online shipping and finding the right shipping companies to work with and doing all the admin… doing all the orders, and also doing all the PR, which I’ve been also handling myself.
I find myself going to bed at 5 a.m. often just having to stay on top of all these things. It’s a lot.
That sounds intense, but I suppose the opposite of that is you get the reward of being the decision-maker of this whole thing.
Yeah, I’m definitely the decision-maker. I think it is kind of cool to see the process [of] how you run a label. There’s also the obvious thing: that all the money comes to you. Of course, maybe you put more money out than you get back in, but at least you can see all the numbers. It’s very transparent, which is always nice because a lot of times you don’t have always transparency. But I think just learning about the processes has been interesting to see.
I wanted to go backward a bit here and talk about your earlier life, growing up in Western Canada. Did you have a musical family, or was music something you pursued on your own?
My dad is definitely not musical at all. He’s not in the arts… He is a carpenter, worked always in construction or as a farmer. So he does not understand music or art. I mean, he’s always calling me asking, “Are you still doing that music thing? Aren’t you too old for that now?” So he doesn’t get it at all.
My mom, on the other hand, she was always in the arts. I never understood how they ever got together — it’s two totally opposite people. I think they just like drama. That’s the only thing I could see. How many restaurants do we have to be banned from? OK, I see why you guys are together.
So my mom’s side was very artistic. My mom never made music, but her dad was very musical. Her siblings are musical. So yeah, I was just always interested in music since my elementary years,
My parents never put us in piano classes and things like that, but it was just from listening to the radio, and I was in the school band in elementary school. And my neighborhood friend, her dad was always playing the guitar and he was into The Beatles. I remember the first time hearing [them]. I guess it’s a cliche story that everyone has: Your first time hearing The Beatles and The Beach Boys and all that. And I was like, wow, this is so great! I want to be in a band, like The Beatles!
Since then I’ve always tried to make a band, but never knew how to do it. We only had the saxophone and the recorder from the school band.
Is that what you played, the sax?
Yeah, in the school band I played the saxophone.
Alto or tenor, or?
Alto.
Oh really? I did, too.
Nice! But… it wasn’t a fun experience, because I didn’t have a proper saxophone. I had this flea market one my grandpa got me. He was always going to the flea market and said he’d get me one. Of course, he got me one that was broken. It never worked, but I like the sax.
I wanted to ask about how it came to pass that Kari Jahnsen of Ultraflex ended up singing backing vocals on “Sow The Path.” I love that duo. Ultraflex are awesome. Do you run in the same circles in Berlin?
Yeah. Well, she and her husband, Ådne [Meisfjord], just moved. They did live in Berlin. I was introduced to her through her husband. He mixed my song “It’s You I’m Thinking Of.” So they have their apartment and I would always meet there. That’s where they have their studio as well. And he co-produced “Sow The Path,” the pop version of it. They live together and so she could jump on the backing vocals.
Speaking of moving, I wanted to ask you about how you chose to leave Vancouver for Berlin around 12 years ago? And secondarily, what kind of impact has such a geographical shift had on your art?
Well, when I was in university in Vancouver, I knew that once I was done I wanted to get out. Vancouver was feeling like the Titanic: It was just sinking. All the artists were fleeing. It feels really hard to live as an artist there, because of how expensive it is and because it just feels like there’s not this nurturing of the arts.
So most musicians that I know, when I go back to visit Vancouver, they’re not there. So I was like, OK, I’m going to move out of here. I thought I was going to go to Denmark, because I’m a citizen…. my sister was already living there and I guess [moving there] would be obvious.
But then I did this mini-tour through Europe and, as soon as I landed in Berlin, I was in awe. I guess it’s a very cliche story, but it was just so magical. And it was so cheap at the time.
I was seeing all these people who were just living as artists. They didn’t have jobs. It was so cool. People just full-time living as an artist, and it was easy for practical reasons. You could fly around and travel to play shows, and then come back to Berlin. It was cheap. Everything was amazing. I decided that was where I needed to be.
Everyone is just focused on making their music. People were recording at home and there was a lot more of a DIY culture. It was quite inspiring to be around people like this.
When I was in Vancouver, you’d typically write your album and go into a studio. It felt much more competitive and, maybe, gatekeeping, because there’s just not as many opportunities [in the city.] So people want to hold onto that.
Here, I like the Berlin DIY community. A lot of the times people are really supportive and help each other out — they share resources, tips… they just come together.
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That reminds me of what I’ve been told about New York a few decades ago — that idea that the cost of living is such that an artist can live on the art alone.
Totally. And everyone’s always saying it’s turning into London, turning into Paris… When I first came to Berlin, the apartment I had was a two-bedroom, and it was 200 euros a month. It was a great location — really in the heart of the city. You could just play one show and you could pay your rent. It was amazing.
Of course, now… There was an apartment being rented out, they had a viewing, and it was going for 2,000 a month.
It’s heartening, though, that even in the face of that you all are still working together to make being artists/musicians as sustainable as possible.
Yeah, I haven’t lived near Vancouver for over 10 years, so I can’t say how it is now. I don’t want to bring it down. [However,] Berlin is just different. I mean, just recently for this album — of course I did my own press, and friends were reaching out and saying, “Who did you hire for PR? How did you do it?” I showed them how I did it. Stuff like that.
People are always coming together. It’s very motivating and inspiring.
Is there anything you wanted to discuss about Holding the Sun that I didn’t ask? I realize we talked a lot about non-album things, when you have a fantastic new record out.
This is maybe something I’m telling more to myself. But I almost felt like, should I feel ashamed that it took me so long to put this album out? I try not to read stuff online, but sometimes you go there… and there was criticism [about] how long it took to release the album, and it only has this many songs and two are the same.
I understand that it can seem maybe lame that it takes this many years and it’s not that many songs, but I think that it’s important for artists and — I’m telling this to myself — that, you know what, it doesn’t matter how long it takes you, as long as you’re doing it. It’s a process.
And I was always working with a lot of limitations — [for example,] limitations of funds — so I always did what I could. That’s the reason why I had singles. I put all of my money into the singles and then I’d go to the next songs and start raising funds for the next single. That was also part of why I had to split it up. I just did not have enough funds to get to the whole album, and I think that’s totally cool.
You do what you can and… who cares if you can’t always just drop a full album every two years, as long as you’re just moving and you’re just still doing it, whatever pace you can. And I guess, like I said, I’m telling that part more for myself, but I feel like that’s something. There’s this pressure.
I feel like that’s good advice in general. Without the institutional pressures, you were able to create a stunning collection of songs at your own pace. And ultimately, your fans and people interested in the genres in which you operate are already, or will be, better off for it. That feels like a very important element.
That childhood story of the tortoise and hare always resonated with me. I am definitely the tortoise. It takes me a while. I’m much slower than my friends. Eventually I get there however long it takes. At least I get there in the end. And I think that’s totally fine. There’s just this pressure nowadays, everything must be fast. And you know what? As long as you’re creating, you’re moving, you’re getting there.


