“Meadow Hugs” is about trauma, but it doesn’t sound like it at first. A new song by the Atlanta-based singer-songwriter MJ Cabra, “Meadow Hugs” starts right out of the gate with an energetic breakbeat and some lush, lovely synth chords. I’ve always associated this sort of sound with a sort of optimism–vintage video games, joyous drum and bass, a vision of what the future looked like in the 90s. The music’s vitality contrasts with Cabra’s dreamy vocals, which have a sense of remove reminiscent of Laurel Halo. The juxtaposition between the song’s sound and its lyrics lends “Meadow Hugs” its bittersweet power.
“Where do I go from here?” Cabra asks herself, in the first line of the song. “I’m not sure.” Elsewhere, she grapples with her trauma: “I know it’s not forever,” she sighs, fully aware that that doesn’t make it any easier to deal with. Trauma, after all, is not something you can shrug off when it inconveniences you: like “Meadow Hugs”’ own fast pace, the world refuses to slow down for you, even when you need time to heal. Still, there’s solace to be found: as Cabra says in our Q&A, it’s OK to not be OK.
Tell me a bit more about the story behind “Meadow Hugs.” How did you come up with the title?
The title was something we already had imagined. Frío grew up listening to Simón Diaz and there’s this song “Todo Este Campo Es Mío” that brought this landscape to mind. Once we made this track it felt like an obvious fit. “Meadow Hugs” feels very much like a sprawling meadow that stretches out a bit further with every step you take. The space rolls over and envelopes you like a hug.
The song is a frank look at trauma, but musically it’s quite upbeat and fast-paced. What is it about that juxtaposition that appealed to you?
Sometimes trauma is bleak and slow but in this case it was chaos. My mind was always moving faster than my body could keep up with. This juxtaposition felt natural for what I was experiencing.
This song has an optimistic, futuristic tone, at least musically. We live in a very pessimistic time—did you set out to counterbalance that pessimism, or maybe just continue a conversation, so to speak?
As far as optimism goes, I don’t think this song offers that. There’s no solution given here but the point is that it’s okay to not be okay. Trauma isn’t linear; as you go through it you will inevitably backtrack, repeat patterns, and get stuck at times. If you want to heal the only option is to go through it.
The vocals are integral to the song. How did you go about recording them and integrating them in the evocative way you did?
These vocals were recorded in one 9 minute take which we later cut down. We wanted them to take up space but also mirror the way the rest of the track moves.
What are your plans for the future?
Keep making music.
