About That Song: Emily Haavik
About That Song #61
In our special series, singer-songwriter Sarah Morris interviews artists about the songs that shaped them.
Hi! I’m Sarah Morris. I’m wildly in love with songs and the people who write them. There have been a few songs in my life that have been total gamechangers—songs that made me want to be a songwriter and songs I’ve written that made me feel like I am a songwriter. About That Song is a space where I can learn more about those pivotal songs in other writers’ lives.
In the 61st installment of this series, I was excited to chat with Emily Haavik, a Minnesota singer-songwriter whose music I’ve admired for years! To say she has a way with words is an understatement. I asked her to tell me about the musical moments and songs that had an impact on her as an artist.
Emily Haavik. Photo credit: Michelle Bennett.
Sarah: Hi Emily Haavik! It’s so lovely to get to talk about songwriting with you. I’ve been a huge fan of the way you wield words and melody ever since Ellen Stanley introduced me to your album Ease Back in 2019. I’d asked the social media world to send me new music for a road trip, and Ellen’s suggestion was right on! You’re just about to release a new album, Wingspan. This feels like a wonderful reason to check in and learn a bit more about you, and the songs that have accompanied you on your songwriter’s journey.
Do you remember the song you heard that made you want to be a songwriter? Tell us about that song.
Emily: Wowwww this is a wonderful question. It would probably have to be Noah Gundersen, from his first EP, Brand New World. Maybe the song “Winter”? I listened to him in high school and heard something in the music and writing that I wanted to emulate. It was so raw and beautiful.
Sarah: Thank you for tipping me toward that song—I was only familiar with Noah Gundersen as a producer. I can hear the raw beauty, a sense of delicacy, and also compelling dynamics that I hear in your writing, Emily. Once you began writing, did you feel like a writer immediately? It took me a few years of writing before I believed it—was there a song that gave you that “a-HA! I AM a songwriter!” moment? Tell us about that song.
Emily: I did not feel like a writer, and I wasn’t sure if my songs were songs!
Sarah: “Um … What’s a song, anyway?” feels like a companion interview series I want to write now!
Emily: I think the song that felt like a real song was called “Fall.” I wrote it for a dearly loved friend who moved away. There’s actually a video of it floating around on the internet, and it pops up sometimes when you search for me on YouTube. (My mom just told me she found it again.) It’s from back when my hair was down to my butt and everyone always asked me if I was going to sell it!
Thanks to Ranger Ron, a wonderful guy in Duluth who takes videos of local bands and puts them up online just because he loves music.
Sarah: Yes! Thank you, Ranger Ron, and all the other Ranger Rons out there, loving music in a way that means you SHARE it! Emily, you kicked off your musical summer by releasing the first single from your upcoming album. “Drive” hits me as triumphant, and empowering—just right for singing at the top of your lungs in a car that might be driving through the eight destinations listed in your song. What can you tell us about that song? Also—how many of those places have you been to?
Emily: Ha! I just looked through the lyrics. I actually had to get a map out when I wrote this, to make sure I plotted the route in a realistic manner. I haven’t been to the locations in the south. Once we hit Missouri in verse 2, I’ve been everywhere.
I wrote this song while looking at this amazing painting I bought in Denver, a classic 1950s portrait of a woman driving a car, pop art style. It’s by AL Lummus. The woman looks so free and joyful, and on display the painting was paired with a little card that showed statistics about how much more likely women are to die in car crashes, because the crash test dummies are designed based on men’s bodies.
Sarah: Whoa! A friend of mine (Dave Malone) just wrote a poem inspired by a book based on that same statistic!
Emily: I was struck by the courage of that woman, to take control of this vehicle that wasn’t intended to keep her safe, and to live her life at full speed in a world that doesn’t want her to.
Emily Haavik. Photo credit: Michelle Bennett.
Sarah: I hope you share the song with the artist! You and I belong to the same online songwriting community, and one of the songs you shared there that stopped me in my dishwashing-and-listening tracks is “Magnificence.” I’m so excited to know that it made the album! Tell us about that song.
Emily: I’m honored that this song hit you that way! I wrote it about hard-to-describe feelings. The achy feeling you get when you see something almost “too” beautiful. The painful feeling of loving someone so much, you don’t know what to do with all the love. The fear that it will all go away. The urgency of feeling like you need to drink it all in, whether it’s nature or a view or a person. I’d often tried to write a song about this feeling, but this was the first time I felt like I was actually able to say what I meant. I wrote it about my husband. Now I would say it extends to my son, too.
Sarah: It’s a lot to contain in a song, and I’m glad you made that beautiful container. A couple of years ago, you released the powerful single “Do You Think You Protect Me” along with its accompanying music video. I remember weeping at my computer screen when I first saw the video because ultimately it is incredibly beautiful as much as it is incredibly heartbreaking. Can you tell us about that song?
Emily: Yes! This was a hard song to write. I remember thinking, “I’ll never play this for anyone.” It was too real. But that’s the cool thing about a song. Once it’s out there, even just in the air, the scary thing loses some of its power. I think my dad was the first person I played it for, on a deck in the north woods. It was hard for him to listen to, because it was about what it’s like going through the world as a woman. He has two daughters and loves us so much. But when I played it for him, I could see it was meant to be shared.
As I started playing it for others, and dreamed up a dream to get a bunch of women involved, I found the song was much bigger than me and that there were lots of people who wanted to sing it! It ended up being not scary at all, but beautiful and empowering. We connected with amazing advocates at MNCASA and Native Lives Matter and raised money for them while releasing the song and video. It was an exhausting and incredible experience and I’m so glad we did it!
Sarah: Do you have any upcoming Midwest shows where we might hear you sing some of the songs we’ve talked about today?
Emily: I sure do! My album release is Thursday, Oct. 3, at 7 p.m. at Icehouse Mpls with my band, Dave Mehling, Beau Jeffrey, and Sheldon Way; and the amazing Haley E Rydell and her band. I’d love to see YOU there, gentle reader!
Sarah: Congrats on the new album, and thank you so much for taking some time to talk with me about that song. Wishing you all the best, Emily!
Be sure to check out Emily Haavik at her album release show Oct. 3 at Icehouse in Minneapolis! Doors are at 5:30pm and the music starts at 7pm with opener Haley E Rydell. Make a table reservation for this seated show.
Listen to “Drive”
Wingspan Album Credits
Recorded at The Pearl with Zachary Hollander
Produced by Dave Mehling and Emily Haavik
Emily Haavik - vox, guitar; Dave Mehling - guitar, keyboards; Sheldon Way - drums; Beau Jeffrey - bass; Joe Savage - pedal steel; Maria Coyne, Mwago Kuria and Nikki Lemire - choir vocals; Jason McGlone - mixing; Rob Schlette - mastering; Michelle Bennett - photos; Sarah Sansom - design
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Sarah Morris. Photo credit: Tom Smouse.
Sarah Morris is a superfan of songs and the people who write them, and a believer that certain songs can change your life. A singer-songwriter / mama / bread maker / coffee drinker who recently released her fifth album of original material, she’s been known to joyfully sing with people in her Big Green Bathroom.
