18 May was not my first time seeing London-based and recent Edinburgh graduate Daisy Casemore, but it was my favourite: a night riddled with a sense of community and electric joy.
The stage of the People’s Leisure Club was backdropped with tinsel and a disco ball illuminated hundreds of excited faces. After a contemplative, pleasant set by Morgan T. Morris (his debut solo gig!), we were informed (“to my utmost regret”), that Casemore was ill and unable to perform! Several planted audience members claiming to be the “real” Daisy began to take the stage. Finally, the bona fide Casemore appeared well and ecstatic to perform despite the attempts at subversion. The gag implicitly informed us that this ‘Goodbye, Goodbye’ farewell would be on the sweeter side of bittersweet.
The setlist featured many familiar Casemore originals – with only two new songs – in an ode to her past four years of musical development and the city backdropping it, alongside a six-piece band, several notable guests (including past collaborators such as Gordon McGruer), and dear friends.
Many of these songs, like ‘The Dog and the B*tch’ (from which the titular ‘Goodbye, Goodbye’ lyric is drawn), ‘Shiny Sundays,’ and ‘Blue Horses,’ feature animal motifs – horses, dogs, ants, and pigeons – regular imagery creating a satisfying stylistic cohesion between songs. Casemore’s typical song structure is dynamic, comprised of regular lulls and crescendos. She knows how to spin her words in a way that will profoundly touch her audience’s sense of emotional truth.
Casemore’s most notable quality is her transparency of heart. Using her voice as an instrument of its very own, Casemore harnesses our emotions, playfully dipping into low octaves, soaring to bright belts, singing in soft and tear-jerking tones, or loudly with immense joy or anger.
Casemore closed the night with a personal favourite of mine, ‘Charlie, Baby.’ Though written about experiences studying abroad in America, Casemore’s ability to alter a song’s meaning solely through delivery made it read as a farewell ode to Edinburgh.
Then, it’s the final phrase of the final song: “this ugly city, ugly city……” and Casemore is spinning and jumping, smiling so widely, with an orchestral crescendo of near-ceilidh-level joy. Despite the bitterness of “goodbye,” and the melancholy present in so many of Casemore’s songs, this final moment is riddled only with infectious joy.
The following Thursday, in blustery sunshine in The Ventoux’s smoking area, I sat down with Casemore to chat about the gig, her artistic development, and her plans and hopes for the future.
ELIANA: How do you feel after your “Goodbye, Goodbye” gig this past week, and all the changes happening right now?
DAISY CASEMORE: I feel good; a bit tired from the gig, and from coming to the big close of a big chapter. I’m embracing [the changes], but my hands are sweaty, and everything is slipping, slipping through them…
ELIANA: Why do you use so many animal motifs in your writing?
DAISY CASEMORE: It never occurred to me until now, but I think it’s because it’s rather boring to write in the first-person, unless you’re doing it with cutting intensity. Animals are a good way of interacting with metaphors, agency, and power dynamics.
ELIANA: What is your biggest musical inspiration, specifically?
DAISY CASEMORE: I was big into post-punk for, like, a year. And growing up, I was surrounded by my dad’s folky 70s stuff: Joni Mitchell, Neil Young, Steely Dan. That formed a lot of my foundation. I have a guitar, so the inspirations become adjacent to a lot of other things. I love jazz, improv, free jazz – I want to integrate that into my music. But then again, I also love One Direction.
ELIANA: Do you feel like your year abroad changed you at all?
DAISY CASEMORE: Absolutely profoundly, in an unironic way. America’s a crazy place. Everything there felt like a dream, but one that sticks with you, rather than one you forget in the morning.
ELIANA: If you could go back to the start of university and tell yourself one thing, what would it be?
DAISY CASEMORE: The touch rugby phase won’t last forever! Also, “No Ragrets” (spelt with an “A”). I think I had to do my thing to be where I am today.
ELIANA: Care to elaborate on the ‘farewell’ tone of this specific gig? Was it extra meaningful to you?
DAISY CASEMORE: I can’t believe we sold out. It’s so weird to have 200 people looking at you, watching you sing; that’s not normal. At some past gigs, things feel very rushed and out of control, but this time, I felt calm and in control. I feel grateful.
ELIANA: How do you feel experimenting with various mediums (e.g. theatrical plays, radio, writing, etc) has shaped you into the artist you are now?
DAISY CASEMORE: Any art is interdisciplinary, whether you want it to be or not. Everything exists within a context, regardless of how hard you try to make it into a bubble. Music is always at the centre, but everything else sort of glows around and orbits it.
ELIANA: How do you feel that being a non-man in a male-dominated music scene (like Edinburgh) has impacted your work?
DAISY CASEMORE: You can’t ignore it, but also, it’s important to acknowledge that everyone works hard to be in music spaces, regardless of gender, and it’s a privilege to be up on a stage sharing your music with people listening to you. For me, reckoning with the fact that I can take up space was a big thing, and although that’s not just a gender thing, I feel it comes a bit harder to those who aren’t straight, white men. But also, I’m the person doing the art, not the person perceiving my gender.
ELIANA: What’s next for you?
DAISY CASEMORE: London. But everything past 3 June is in a hazy smoke. I hope it will be fruitful and filled with laughter and love.
And with that cumulative quote, our interview wrapped. Follow Daisy Casemore’s Instagram, as well as @DtoZPresents, to keep up with the “hazy smoke” of what she does next.
Images taken by @c0nnels_camera on Instagram
