Q&A: Taking ‘Mental Backroads’ With Vikki Gilmore
MENTAL BACKROADS IS AN ALBUM TITLE THAT — makes you think. It conjures an image of a brain with many pathways and areas of storage housing memories you may or may not want in there. Montréal-based Vikki Gilmore describes her debut album as “a literal and metaphorical road trip through your mind.” It engages with themes such as introspection, family, and mental health, depicting Gilmore’s “mental backroads” but also encouraging listeners to consider their own.
Inspired by the likes of Joni Mitchell, Phoebe Bridgers, and Daughter, each track is a story. Whether it’s romantic love, self-awareness, or a recognition of commonality from person to person, Gilmore’s themes are entirely human, and she paints clear pictures of the experiences.
“Dashboard Blues” is grounded in a moment of driving down the highway with a romantic partner. The moment is filled with unspoken creeping doubts and best wishes: “When the dashboard says we’re empty / Running on low / We never know / I hope it opens up for you / I hope it opens all the roads.” The prominent sound within the song is a soft acoustic guitar accompanied by thrumming bass that’s barely there, mimicking the monotonous rhythm of driving.
“My Gravestone” introduces convivial drums, easy to follow and complementary rather than controlling, that come and go throughout the album. While the indie-folk singer-songwriter recorded the vocals and acoustic guitar from home, Gilmore collaborated remotely with producers Mathieu LeGuerrier, Gert Taberner, and Jacob Luitkus on all other elements.
The final track, “Pieces In The Black,” features a simple, pulsing beat reminiscent of rain drops. The song ends on the word “you,” wrapping up the album with the word too, which is fitting as Gilmore’s lyrics are unselfish. She often considers perspectives on the opposite side of any situation — not just her own. With a background in psychology, her empathy and curiosity are prevalent throughout the album, such as in “Dashboard Blues,” in which she asks, “Did you realize that my way won’t get you very far?”
Gilmore also describes “Pieces In The Black” as “the feeling of looking up at a dark sky and feeling overwhelmed by the sadness and pain in our lives but [also] recognizing that all the little stars in the sky are a reflection of the beautiful moments that make our lives special.” Again, Gilmore maintains an optimistic outlook that acknowledges hardship but prioritizes compassion.
Gilmore spoke with Luna about more tracks on the album, her thoughts on the indie-folk genre, and the gratification of constructing a relationship with music. Read the interview below.
LUNA: How are you feeling about the release of Mental Backroads?
GILMORE: I’m feeling great; really excited. Honestly, it was kind of an on-the-whim decision to come up with the album. I had been writing songs for years, then took a break between releasing music to pursue higher education and work. I kind of had all my ducks in a row and was like, “Why not now? It feels ready. I feel ready for it.”
LUNA: Did you intentionally sit down and think, “I’m making an album”? Or was there one song you wrote that led to the idea?
GILMORE: I had been wanting to release an album forever. This has been my bucket list goal. I started about 10 years ago. When I was in high school, I just liked making songs. Back then, I never expected to write an album or release one. But I collaborated with a producer a couple of years ago for “Stranded.” It was during the pandemic, and everything was done remotely. I didn’t really know what to do with the song, but I knew I didn’t want to just release it on its own without a plan. So I kept waiting. This year, I ended up just sitting down and writing. I wrote four or five songs in two weeks and I was like, “I can’t do nothing with these.”
LUNA: Did you have a musical childhood, or did you pick up music on your own?
GILMORE: I’ve loved music since I was a kid. My family is a big music family in the sense of enjoying it but not actually playing it. When I was growing up, I couldn’t hold a tune with my voice. I always wrote poetry growing up, and I would hide it. Or I would sing along to YouTube lyric videos in my room (laughs). I had a horrendous voice growing up. But in high school, I was in the band and I played clarinet, so I learned a little bit about music theory. Then I started joining that music theory with my poetry and I was like, “This comes pretty easily.”
When I was 16, I asked my family for a guitar. They were like, “What is she going to do with this? It’s going to be a waste of money — we’re not going to get you guitar lessons.” So I got to pick: it was either paying for my driving lessons or the guitar. I [chose the guitar] and took up YouTube videos. I used online tutorials to pick up chords, and it was a challenge for myself. Within the week, I was playing a few chords. I could do a cover of Marina and the Diamonds and I was so excited. I played it for my family and they were like, “This is really good, but you’re playing one string at a time.” They were honest, and it was funny, but at the time I took it to heart. In hindsight, I laugh because I recorded everything and those videos don’t sound good (laughs).
When I actually started getting feedback about my songwriting at school and [was] given a platform to sing in talent shows, I got really nice feedback from people. [I] decided to keep doing it. It was all about teaching myself the ropes, and everything was online for me to learn. From there, it was about self-releasing. Over the years, I’ve taken the time to own that craft before jumping into a release.
LUNA: Similarly, you created this album very independently. You wrote the songs within half an hour at home, and then you connected with producers remotely. So you definitely have this self-starter, “I’m going to do it if I want to do it” kind of quality (laughs). What was your experience like connecting with producers remotely and having them understand you from a distance?
GILMORE: It was really cool to see how different people work. I’ve gotten into the habit of doing things on my own at home because I’ve created a safe space for myself to be as creative as I want to. Sometimes going into the studio, I’ll overthink how I sound because I have an audience. Even if it’s one person, I won’t have as much flexibility to test out a new harmony that might sound a little wonky but could take a little while to get right.
One of the producers I worked with, Mathieu LeGuerrier, has been my longtime collaborator. I used to work with him in his studio, and then we got into a good rhythm of doing things remotely during the pandemic. I could text him, like, “Hey, I’m feeling more of this vibe where it sounds like a storm.” And he’ll be like, “Cool.” And he’ll send me a new demo.
It’s been cool seeing that, letting people interpret the music. I bring my craft but I also recognize when I have a producer coming in, they are giving me their part of the art as well. I want to give them the space to do it. I’ll give my pointers and say what direction I’m thinking, but I want to let their voices speak out. You can kind of tell that in the album how there are different voices speaking depending on the style of the song, and that’s often the [voices of the] different producers.
LUNA: I noticed from the first track, “Prelude from the Moon,” that the album seems to have been written with listeners in mind. Whether it’s one specific person or group, or just your listeners in general, there’s a quality of recognizing life on the other side. Was that your intention?
GILMORE: I feel like you’re getting exactly what I wanted out of it, and that makes my heart so happy! I feel like I always have a certain audience. Sometimes when I’m writing, I write to myself. It can start out more like a journaling exercise, and some of those songs end up being full songs and some don’t. But when I’m writing, it’s almost like writing a lullaby to someone else depending on what they’re going through. I never try to make my lyrics too literal because I hope that 10 different people listening to it get 10 ten different feelings out of it.
The only song on the album I would say is more literal, with myself being the [intended] audience, would be the title track. I wrote it with myself in mind, thinking of growing up and of my grandfather or other loved ones. [I wondered] how they would know me as an adult, how they would feel about me as an adult. But I tried writing in a way [in which] anybody else could hopefully relate to that or find some comfort in it. The imagery [in mind] is me singing to a class of preschoolers. All these individuals with an inner child [who] need some comforting, and you could tell a story and they’ll each go home with [their own interpretations]. That’s how I like to write.
LUNA: I think your writing style is very poetic, which is fitting because you said that you wrote poetry. Your lyrics pick up on the little things in life and use them as a way to depict the bigger picture, with a focus on how they would connect to other people. Do you still turn to literature for inspiration now?
GILMORE: All the time. I try to pick out pieces of literature or even popular media and other songs. I try not to copy anyone, but I love Easter eggs in songs. Leonard Cohen does that so well. You can go through his entire discography and someone will nail down how every line is some sort of reference to something. I would love to do it more often. I definitely take inspiration from different things here and there.
LUNA: The genre you create within can be a source of inspiration itself. There’s been a new focus on indie-folk within the last decade. What brings you to the genre, and what do you like about it?
GILMORE: I’ve been in this exact genre for the last 10 years, and it wasn’t always called that. When I was starting out, I didn’t really know how to categorize myself. It wasn’t really folk — it didn’t have the stomp and holler aspect to it. I find The Lumineers are an example of a band that brought it to light [making it so] you could have a mix. Now, with artists like Noah Kahan, it’s become really popular. Also, it felt very male-dominated when I started. A lot of the artists I listened to growing up were male. But then there was Joni Mitchell. Now there are tons of female indie-folk artists, and I think it’s wonderful. The genre has really become its own, whereas before people didn’t really know what to call it.
LUNA: I also wanted to ask you about the title of the album. What does Mental Backroads mean to you?
GILMORE: I was on a road trip with my boyfriend and we were talking about planning the album and thinking of ideas. I was like, “I don’t have a name — maybe I'll call it after one of the other titles.” At that point, the song “Mental Backroads” hadn’t been written. We were just talking and we were on the highway thinking about different themes. For me, the main theme I wanted was a road trip with stops along the way. A big part of the title track is thinking about self-growth, self-acceptance, and your mental health. So my boyfriend kind of blurted it out. He was like, “What about Mental Backroads?” Then the next week, I wrote [the title track]. It’s interesting how everything is sort of a web.
LUNA: Let’s talk about “If I Wrote You.” I think it’s my favorite track on the album. There’s some great imagery in it. What caught my attention about that song was the title itself, “If I Wrote You,” as in, if I wrote you a letter, but also as in writing someone into a song. How did it come together?
GILMORE: That was one of the songs that was sitting on my desk for years. I don’t remember what year I wrote it in. It could have been 2017, 2016; I have no idea. I would perform it live at gigs all the time and everyone was always like, “You need to record this.” But it never felt right. It needed a home base, and this album, I feel like it provides that foundation for it.
For me, [the song has] cinematic imagery. I imagined someone trying to connect with someone who has moved away, and it’s almost like a movie scene I created in my head. Those classic rom-coms where the lover [moves] across the ocean and they can’t be together. Then those scenes where they finally look at each other and know their lives have changed so much, but that they’ll never forget that piece in their heart. That’s what that song is. If I reached out to you, if I contacted you, is there any hope that the spark could be rekindled? The reality is no, and that’s how it ends. You never get a response.
It’s almost a letter to yourself, as well. If you could put that much effort into someone else, why can’t you put it into yourself? It’s almost a happy-go-lucky ending of, like, I never got a letter back, I never got an answer back, but I have myself. I also feel like it’s a nostalgic song. It’s not thinking about anyone in particular, but it’s just nostalgic for the people in your life that are living but not necessarily with you.
LUNA: “Claim My Throne” has a darker sound, and maybe this is one of those situations where it was a different producer, like you mentioned, and that sound is coming through. Tell me about that song. I was listening to it and I was like, “This is different, but I like it.”
GILMORE: It’s definitely different. It’s my cinematic piece — I want this in a movie (laughs). Growing up, I loved “I See Fire” by Ed Sheeran from The Hobbit. I did a cover of it with some friends [who] were guitar players and I was like, “I want to write a song like this.” It was, again, one of those backburner songs that I never planned on releasing properly. I remember I recorded an acoustic version of it for a college film project that someone asked for. It was a production of Shakespeare’s King Lear. That works because it has themes about royalty and crowns. When I was going through the songs [for the album], I was like, “I have this snippet that doesn’t really fit my regular style.” My producer, Mathieu, was like, “That needs to be in it.” So that was the deciding factor. It was the type of [song] where at first it was very mellow, and then I was like, “Add more — more drums, more volume.”
LUNA: A lot of albums have a wildcard which can sometimes steal the show or can find its place. I think “Claim My Throne” fits nicely. It’s towards the end of the album, so it builds up to those emotions.
GILMORE: [It’s about when] you want to advocate for yourself as a person. I have always been a people pleaser and I’ve been working really hard on that. I find sometimes you don’t claim your own power in situations and you let people talk over you. You don’t say how you actually feel but your insides are screaming out. I think that’s what this song ended up meaning to me over time.
LUNA: With that, if you could share one important thing about you, your sound, or your projects, what’s the one thing you’d want to share?
GILMORE: My goal as an artist has always been to create some sort of safe space for people listening. I only ever want to create something that someone can listen to and give themselves a warm hug if they’re in a specific situation [in which] they feel like they can’t talk to anyone. So that’s what I would say: go find the music that you connect with and let it give your heart a break. If you feel like you don’t have the words, let music be that for you.
