Meet Glassio

Glassio, sometimes described as melancholy-disco, is my new synth-pop obsession. Helmed by Sam R the project blends modern pop with classic motifs from the genre. Glassio has a sound that is easy to warm up to. Their 2020 album “For The Very Last Time” sweeps you through a colorful digital wonderland. Check out our latest interview as we peep inside the mind of this terrific person.

A self-portrait by, Glassio

Would You Rather

be hugged by a very sweaty person for too long, or ride an elevator with someone who is farting a lot? Why?

Definitely the elevator. Sweat from another person is very bothersome to me in most contexts. I feel like a lot of questions would start to circulate internally about my absence from playing sports as a child and not having that kind of sportsy-let's-hug-after-we-win-a-game-friendship with classmates and I'd start worry about my own health and all that. If I'm stuck in an elevator with someone farting, I can practice expanding my lung capacity and then really relish the fresh air once I exit the elevator. It feels like a good mindfulness activity.

Some questions with Glassio

What was the last book you read? Did you like it?

It has honestly been a minute. During the first few weeks of quarantine I found a copy of "Bleak House" by Charles Dickens in the apartment I was staying in. I read it and had an awful time. It was miserable, but I was incredibly bored and did not want to be on my phone and it was one of the few books I hadn't read out of what I had at the time. I've been craving a new read. I have a Grace Jones memoir that I've been meaning to finish so that'll be my next move.

What kind of narratives do you gravitate towards in your songwriting?

I write about themes involving "home" the most, I think -- themes about escaping home or not going back home or building a new home. I had a weird upbringing and moved around a lot. I think this is me trying to make sense of that all and family issues that ensued.

What does your family think about your music?

I think they like the music I made when I was 16 more. I was a folk-y, singer-songwriter. I was very naive. The songs were very naive. They miss that sound. They like that more, it's their thing. I get it. For years, I've tried to hold a mirror up to them through my music. It was the most honest way I could communicate to them for the longest time. Maybe they aren't into the subject matter as much in my newer music, or the more synthetic sounds.

Do you have a piece of musical gear that you often find yourself coming back to?

Oh yes! I am obsessed with the Roland Space Echo tape delay machine. It's my favorite on synths and it has an exceptional slap back effect that sounds great on snares. You can go wild with it by sending synth signals through to it. It really is wonderful and the reverb is glorious on there. Then there's my Juno 60 which I've had for almost 10 years. It's my absolute favorite instrument. It sounds like a really comforting couch on Pluto to me.

Who would you love to have cover one of your original songs?

Oh that's always hard. I have a recurring dream of Lana Del Rey covering a song of mine. I loved her cover of Daniel Johnston's "Some Things Last A Long Time" and would be absolutely over the moon if she ever realized a song of mine in a similar fashion. To be quite honest, I'd feel incredibly humbled and emotionally overwhelmed if anyone , regardless of stature or style, covered anything I made. That's always been a huge goal of mine -- to make music that inspires another musician to realize it in their own way.

Has the current quarantine affected your workflow or the way you approach making music?

Yes and in different ways. At first, I couldn't work on anything. I was feeling too preoccupied with the state of the world and what had just happened (and frankly depressed) to be able to have the dopamine rush to work on something. I'm starting to slowly get back into the groove now. I think I've acclimated a bit to how things have unfolded this year. I've been producing other people's music, and slowly starting to write some newer Glassio stuff. I definitely don't think I'll be one of those artists that comes out of quarantine with a so-called "quarantine-opus" but hopefully I'll write some good songs in the coming months.

Do you see a relationship between tempo and emotion? How does this play into your self described "melancholy-disco”?

Oh boy, I could go on forever on this! Short answer: yes. I go crazy over tempo. Whenever I start a song, I see an X/Y graph with the Tempo being the X and the Key of the song being the Y. I spend a lot of time focusing over the thought that there is a very specific point on this graph that will see this song come to fruition in the most efficient,and effective way possible. I used to go crazy over that kind of thing. What I've come to learn through slowing songs that are melodically/lyrically very happy down, is that the end result is nuanced with a very soft-spoken, but vaguely palpable sadness. "Radio Ga Ga" by Queen or "Forever Young" by Joakim are the two examples that come to mind. I used to always wish that the recording of "Radio Ga Ga" was slightly faster. It's strangely slow - especially compared to their live versions (which makes sense). In a live setting, the song is no longer lonely. But the words, and the general theme about having music as your only friend are just so perfectly enhanced when the tempo is just a little slower. Everything else about the song and the production is anthemic, but the tempo is almost like this final instrument in of itself that says "hold on a minute, I know you have this fantasy in your head, but let me just ever so slightly remind you of the reality of your situation." Tempo is the climate, in my mind. I try to apply this kind of thinking to songs of mine that are sometimes too obviously happy.

Any final comments? (This is your electronic soapbox for one last answer.)

I just came back from a day trip to Montauk and my partner and I were driving back to NYC blasting "Welcome To The Pleasuredome" by Frankie Goes To Hollywood down the highway in the dark. It was incredibly cathartic, and felt like a highlight of my year. I truly recommend anyone that is feeling cooped up right now to do the same.