Waxahatchee doesn’t need it all

Waxahatchee is Katie Crutchfield. It’s that simple. Although she enlists instrumental parts and back-up vocals from those closest to her, writing has always been a solitary process. “I can’t write songs unless I feel totally alone,” Crutchfield says. Her debut album, American Weekend, and 2013 follow-up, Cerulean Salt, focused primarily on her personal feelings and life experiences, but her latest album is more observation than confession. The title, Ivy Tripp, is a made-up term for the aimlessness so often assigned to twentysomethings. The minimal approach to production and emphasis on lyrical writing signify something exhaustive: a way of living that values the pursuit of a feeling over material goals. “In the life trajectory that people tend to think is the more conventional way to live, you do the same thing every day and you have security and you have a family and you buy a house,” Crutchfield says. Her observation is less about judgment than it is juxtaposition to her own experiences. “The way that I live my life, or that a lot of my friends live their lives, you’re just seeking happiness in a way that feels good for you.”

Aimlessness has done right by Crutchfield both at home and in the studio, which are generally the same place. She and collaborators Keith Spencer and Kyle Gilbride (who also play in the band Swearin’ with Crutchfield’s twin sister) recorded most of Ivy Tripp in Crutchfield’s Long Island home. And though they went into recording with the bones of the songs already together — they’d previously recorded the drum parts in a local elementary school gymnasium — there was room to flesh out the songs during the recording process. “I find studios a bit clinical,” she says. “It’s funny because I have a lot of friends who ... record in studios because they like to over-prepare. It’s just nice to be in the comfort of your own home, with all of your musical gear, and just trying things out and experimenting with sound and taking your time.”

Her lack of concern with a destination is hardly ambivalence; rather, it’s acceptance that there’s more than one way to find contentment. When she repeats, “I’m not trying to have it all,” on album opener “Breathless,” it’s a mantra drawing a parallel between the album’s theme of not quite knowing what you want and Crutchfield’s approach to Waxahatchee’s steady rise since her 2012 debut. “I made music for a long time without making any money, and without really getting any kind of recognition — making records because that’s what felt good for me and what was fulfilling for me,” Crutchfield says. “I feel like I have nothing to lose: I know that even if people stop writing about me or stop caring about my records or whatever, I’ll always be able to keep making the records I want to make.”

As much as Ivy Tripp glorifies aimlessness, it’s funny how having nothing to lose looks a hell of a lot like having it all.