Words by Sara Cederberg
Cross Record’s new album Crush Me merges Emily Cross’s experiences as a death doula with her haunting, ever-evolving sound. Over a two-and-a-half-year period, the album overcame label uncertainties, abrupt life events, and creative frustrations, culminating in a richly layered exploration of both comfort and claustrophobia.
Recorded partly in Germany under an improvisational ethos, these songs feel like a spontaneous ritual in progress, crackling with raw feedback, bowed upright bass, and anxious organ swells. Collaborations with Marcin Sulewski, last-minute mixing by Seth Manchester, and Cross’s readiness to scrap and rebuild her demos highlight a fluid, communal process. The final product is a testament to life’s delicate balance between suffocating pressure and gentle release, revealing beauty even in the darkest corners of surrender.
Off Shelf: Crush Me seems to capture both the warmth of a comforting embrace and the unsettling pressure of being overwhelmed. How did you arrive at that title, and in what ways do you feel it sums up the emotions running through this record?
Emily Cross: When I was thinking of a title for the record, my mind went to a conversation we – the people I’d gathered to make the record – had in an elevator right at the start of the recording process. It was a very small elevator and we were crammed in together, which I found to be calming. I said this to them, that the feeling of being squished feels really good to the nervous system. I said I sometimes ask to be ‘crushed’ after a long day or something. ‘Crush Me’ felt like a perfect title because that pleasurable sensation of being crushed can of course switch suddenly and become something intolerable, and even deadly. That’s how the process of making this record felt and eventually I was saying “crush me” not so much in a fun way, to ease the pressures of the day, but more so as a playful demand to please put me out of my misery.
OS: This album was shaped by an unusually collaborative and improvisational process, recorded in both Germany and the UK. I know that the process was interrupted by a lot of challenges and big life events. How did that open, fluid, and sometimes fractured approach to recording influence the final sound, and was it challenging to hold onto your original vision?
EC: It’s hard for me to know how it influenced the final sound… of course, everything that happens has an influence. Every record-making process has its challenges and it’s never a straightforward process, which I normally enjoy. I seldom have a set original vision. Even when working from my demos, I’m prepared to completely destroy and re-make. It’s an ever-morphing, very alive image until I say enough is enough. I really love capturing a unique space in time with people, which is why I need so much improvisation and don’t feel the urge to plan things very much. Making this one was a little different because it was spaced out with large life changes in between. But the challenging, and truly excruciating aspect for me with this record was the breakdown of communication that happened within the process. Marcin Sulewski saved me during the whole thing – he was my constant collaborator, making sure we did actually get it finished through its different phases, people coming in and out of the frame.
OS: To follow up on my last question, it seemed that because of those challenges and big life events like a pregnancy, the album felt like it was teetering on the brink. What kept you pushing forward, and how do you think those trials shaped the final outcome?
EC: I never had any doubt that it would get done, but I did get tired of trying to convince other people it should be finished, and that it was worth finishing. I don’t know what pushes me forward, I just know I have to do these things, it’s a non-negotiable of life. The biggest influence those ‘trials’ had over the final product can be heard in the lyrics. Up until almost the final versions, I’m working on the lyrics so it was kind of real-time. You can hear some themes of surrender, unseen forces having an influence on life, things like that. Musically though, I’m not sure how much of the sound of frustration, sadness, desperation, ugliness, etc. seeped into the sound because I naturally gravitate towards those ‘kinds of sounds’ anyway. Ultimately I’m grateful for the madness that happened… the record is how it should be.
OS: The songs on Crush Me employ both heavy, almost disorienting passages and lighter, more spacious sections. How do you strike a balance between these extremes, and what do you hope listeners take away from that tension?
EC: Well, those extremes just naturally belong together. They are the same thing, just on opposite ends of the scale, and you can’t know utter elation without feeling the depths of despair. To be honest I don’t know that I do strike a balance, and I don’t know that I have a hope for listeners to take anything away in particular. I like to explore these big and small sounds, maybe, because I tend to not express or even experience so many of those more extreme feelings. A lot of the time I feel pretty zoomed out and in observer-mode. I feel them more now that I’m a parent, and it’s a little bit scary.
OS: There’s a stark beauty in your lyrics, many of which allude to feeling lost, disoriented, or abandoned. In your view, does exploring those darker aspects of existence have a healing or cathartic element for you and your audience?
EC: I just think those aspects of existence are very interesting! Feeling lost, it doesn’t have to be bad. When I feel lost I know I’ll eventually know what’s happening again or where I am, so it’s more a curiosity. It’s these in-between realms that get me. The experience of disorientation before you have the understanding, the abandonment before something else scoops you up, that’s where you get to know yourself as a person.
OS: “Twisted Up Fence” closes the album with a seemingly hopeful note that even the “abyss” can be “the best.” How do you reconcile that notion of finding solace or positivity in unknown or intimidating spaces, and what does it say about your outlook on life now?
EC: Maybe I sort of answered in the question before. It can be really hard to find positivity or solace in the unknown! It’s a place of suspension, and that is uncomfortable. My outlook is that I know everything will be OK, even if in the moment it does not feel that way. Eventually I will die, and I want to appreciate all that life has to show me, even when letting go is more difficult than clinging on. That definitely doesn’t mean I’m always happy or composed or smiling.
OS: Outside of writing and performing music, do you have any personal rituals or creative outlets that keep you inspired and grounded, especially when life or artistic projects get overwhelming?
EC: My favorite thing to do is be at the beach on a sunny day with my tea setup, snacks, and a project like a quilt I’m working on, or a drawing, dipping in and out of the sea for hours and hours. I also love cooking and being on a boat, especially a sailboat.