New York singer-songwriter, Stephen Becker, debuted his new single Slurpee which they described as “a sweet song about relentless horrors.” Of the poetic track, Becker says: “Slurpee juxtaposes springtime euphoria with social anxiety, icees and sandcastles with middle child syndrome and political turmoil. The pervasive kick drum represents an existential anxiety about the state of things, a brain freeze in the sun that prevents you from really enjoying the sunshine.” Stephen spoke with The Fountain about the reception to the single as well some of his favourite haunts.
TF: You have a new single out, what has the reception been like to Slurpee?
The reception has been very kind, though it’s all a bit surreal – releasing music in the midst of a global pandemic. Sometimes I think music is the last thing we need, other times I think it’s exactly what we need. Not to mention I wrote Slurpee a long time ago, so it hasn’t been able to keep up with how different the world is now, or how different I am now, versus when I wrote it. That said, it’s been fun to find new ways to relate to the lyrics. This process of reinterpretation is actually something I enjoy and want for my listeners as they experience my music over time.
TF: How would you sum up the track in one sentence?
It’s an existential crisis in the form of a brain freeze.
TF: What is your plan for the remainder of the year, after this release?
I’m working on some instrumental guitar pieces – they’re like etudes I guess, but with improvised elements. More importantly, they’re a kind of meditation and breathing exercise that I’ve been using to get through a physical illness that I’m currently dealing with. I’m also learning some piano, clumsily making my way through the easier Chopin preludes. Besides that, I plan on voting, turning 29, finishing a 1,000-piece Van Gogh puzzle. Wearing a mask and social distancing of course…
TF: Where is your favourite venue for playing live, where is the next place you look most forward to gigging?
Well, I’m currently living in Brooklyn, and one of my favourite spots around here is The Owl. It’s more of a listening room than a bar – very intimate, focused, and well-curated. The programming is all over the place too. Anyways, I miss it now more than ever, and I look forward to seeing music there again and playing there too I guess.