Pickle Darling explores mundane magic in the effervescent Laundromat.

Pickle Darling, the indie-pop project of New Zealand musician Lukas Mayo, has always been a master of finding enchantment in the everyday. With their latest album Laundromat, Mayo delves deeper into the art of embracing the mundane and extracting moments of beauty and inspiration from the fabric of daily life. In this Q&A, Pickle Darling candidly discusses the influences, challenges, and creative process behind the album, all while championing the idea of accessible art that can transport listeners to their own tiny worlds.

How did Lydia Davis inspire your approach to finding magic in the mundane in your new album Laundromat?

I would say I feel like reading her stories kind of gave me permission to let the songs be as small and short as they are. Songs don’t need to answer questions, or even complete a story, or maybe a complete story requires a lot less than we think. 

Can you describe how the security of your current living situation allowed your ideas to blossom during the creation of Laundromat?

Just having sunlight in the house for the first time in years made me so much less miserable! And having a decent landlord, my landlords have kind of gotten progressively better as I’ve moved flats, just general stability and having a nice flat with friends is good for everyone I think!

How did you approach the songwriting process for Laundromat differently than your previous albums?

I tried to just focus on the initial spark and not really try to labour over things too much. It also helped me kind of just retain the most essential elements (melody and chords), which I think are the elements that stay when a song is passed around or sticks in your head, and make those as efficient as they could be. I would just cut out any moment or sound that wasn’t essential.

Can you explain why the enforced length of what a song should be has always bothered you, and how you addressed it in Laundromat?

I guess it’d be weird if books or movies just repeated sections for the sake of it, so I guess I’m not sure why songs do! Not that there isn’t repetition in my music, but it’s never just for the sake of it. I’ll either not repeat a hook at all, or repeat it like 100 times. I think there are only two songs that break the two minute mark on this album, it has the most songs but the shortest run time of all my albums. Each song is like a little burst of energy.

Who are some folk artists that influenced your creative process for Laundromat, and how did they inspire you?

I think some obvious ones are Vashti Bunyan, Bill Fay, Connie Converse, Michael Hurley, artists that have their own writing pace and sit far outside of the industry and are just kind of totally out of step with everything else. Also, Robert Pollard/GBV, who I guess isn’t a folk artist but just as much out of step with everyone else as any of those other artists I mentioned. His approach to song inspires me a lot, and I love artists that just work at their own pace.

Can you discuss your approach to merging art and daily life, as inspired by William Morris' book News from Nowhere?

I guess the way we treat art as either a luxury item, or a kind of career endeavour where you strive to turn it into a brand and everything, all that stuff feels so weird to me, I’m a lot more interested in art as something that is accessible to everyone as a daily practice. 

How did you integrate everyday life into the themes and lyrics of Laundromat?

I am not sure it’s something I consciously do, or if I do I kind of try and portray it in a way that feels a little more surreal or alien and maybe more truthful than like an accurate depiction of things!

Can you talk about the inspiration behind the song "Early Geometry," and how it captures a fleeting moment?

I wrote that song kind of lying in bed in my old flat and seeing the early morning sunlight kind of squeezing between the curtains and casting a bright line on my wall. Waking up to that in the morning and opening your eyes to just pure shape and colour for a moment before you know what anything is.

Can you explain the significance of the distant laughter and simple strums in "Invercargill Angel," and how they contribute to the overall theme of the album?

The distant laughter is from a movie called Beeswax, one of my absolute favourite movies. I never really consciously have a theme for the album, I often just realise right at the end what I’ve actually been writing about. I’ve never been a huge fan of cohesiveness in albums, I like things to be sprawling or all over the place like our thoughts often are. That song is I guess describing a heavenly encounter, and juxtaposing that with some dialogue from a movie about a business partnership is kind of interesting to me.

How does Laundromat create its own tiny worlds while remaining accessible to anyone who might need them?

Welp, I can only hope the album is accessible! I’m always striving to make my records feel like my own little worlds without being too alienating. I try and make the music feel generous to the listener.

Can you describe the role of art in helping us escape into moments of beauty and inspiration, as portrayed in Laundromat?

I like art and music being treated as quite a mundane thing. I’m not super into like, big important statement albums, they often feel like you have a moral obligation to like them before you’ve even heard them. I work in a record shop and most people are just buying music to listen to after a long tiring day at work and I feel quite similar. I’m listening to music on the way to and from work and it makes the trip just a tiny bit more colourful, and if it’s been a bad day a good album will make my day a tiny bit less shit.

What were some of the challenges you faced during the creation of Laundromat, and how did you overcome them?

In the early stages of making the album I decided to kind of quit pursuing music seriously and wanted to just dump the album on the internet and not even get anything mixed. My first two albums had quite a bit of traction on Bandcamp and led to me playing some cool shows, touring with The Beths and Lucy Dacus, and that kind led to some weird expectations that maybe other people had for me? Like, it seemed to make people angry if I made seemingly stupid music industry decisions cause they maybe had a different picture of success for me than what I had for myself. It took a big toll on me and I almost trashed the album, and then some kind words from my friend Millie (who makes music under the name Repulsive Woman) kind of lifted me out of that and made me finish the thing and feel excited about writing and releasing music and performing again. The Lucy Dacus tour came almost right after that and felt so validating. Like, “oh maybe this is something worth pursuing.” There was this kind of sudden momentum again. And then Father/Daughter Records hit me up. So my approach now is kind of to just see how far I can go and not worry too much! Kind of entirely on my own terms though, and following my own intuitions and only saying yes to something if it feels positive for me, and never only because it’s a smart career move or for money.

What do you love right now?

I’m having a lot of fun playing solo shows, and I kind of wanna play intimate solo shows in every single small town in NZ. It’s a fun way to really notice people responding to your music, when you play quietly. It’s more nerve wracking and feels a little more tense but it’s really exciting when you can capture a whole room without relying on volume alone.

What do you hate right now?

I hate how much time I waste on my phone lmao. I met someone who had this new phone which can do literally nothing. It’s like a tiny little thing with a screen that has no backlight, and it can’t even send emails or have apps. I might get one of those.

Name an artist or band you’re still listening to from when you were younger and why they’re still important to you? 

I’m still listening to the Unicorns album. That’s a band I’m constantly hoping will reunite for another record one day. That album inspires me so much, you hear the band falling apart in real time, and underneath all the silliness are all these songs about death and meaning and everything. 

What message or feeling do you hope listeners take away from Laundromat?

Honestly I hope at least one person hears it and steals all my production tricks and makes their first album because of it!