Sir Chloe on Love, Rage, and <em>Swallow the Knife</em>
Sir Chloe has always thrived in the tension between tenderness and abrasion, crafting songs that move like a switchblade — delicate one moment, cutting the next.
Emerging from the indie underground with the breakout Party Favors EP in 2020, frontwoman Dana Foote quickly distinguished herself as a songwriter capable of turning private wounds into sharp, resonant anthems. Songs like “Michelle” and “Animal” cemented her as an artist who could straddle the viral moment while still writing music with undeniable depth and bite, proving that immediacy and substance don’t always have to be at odds.
Now, with her latest record, Swallow the Knife, Foote strips away outside noise to return to the visceral roots of her artistry. Written largely in isolation after parting ways with a major label, the record leans into catharsis — exorcising resentment, embracing rage, and ultimately finding solace in love.
Sir Chloe’s music has long been a safe haven for listeners who see themselves in its jagged honesty, and with Swallow the Knife, Foote cements her place as one of indie rock’s most fearless truth-tellers, building a legacy defined not by conformity, but by the audacity to heal in public.
KP: I usually wait until later in the conversation to bring up new releases, but I have to start with yours first. Your newest record, Swallow the Knife, just released. I’m obsessed with the title, so I had to ask about it first. [Laughs].
Why did you choose it, and what does it mean to you?
SC: I was sick with some kind of ENT ailment a few months after I made the record and had been thinking about that Malachy McCourt quote that goes, “Resentment is like taking poison and waiting for the other person to die.” At the time, whatever bug I had made me feel as though each time I swallowed I had knives sliding down my throat. It reminded me of that quote, and it felt right to call the album Swallow the Knife.
KP: How does it connect to the record at large?
SC: Much of the record — aside from a song called “Eyes” — is about losing oneself due to a wound from a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad thing. For a long time I held a grudge against someone and resented them. I wanted to embrace the pain and anger while I was a walking open wound and wrote many songs as sort of an ode to the grudge and resentment that I was carrying with me. Although this weight I carried was necessary while I was healing, at the end of the day I was drinking poison and hoping that it would kill someone else. I was swallowing a knife in hopes of it cutting someone else’s throat on the way down.
KP: What can we expect from the album at large?
SC: There’s a broad range of emotion that I worked through while making it. I didn’t do any co-writes, and many of the songs were written in a few hours. In my opinion, that’s represented sonically as well. It’s a record that I wrote for myself as catharsis. My hope is that it satiates the listener. I believe that we all carry rage and pain within us, and music is one of the few ways that most people connect with that part of themselves. Ideally, a listener will hear the catharsis and feel it as well.
KP: I think so much of that can be felt through the record. Do you feel that it’s more a departure from or an expansion of your previous work?
SC: I believe that it’s a return to myself. I began the writing process in secret. I was signed to a major label who wanted very much to be involved. After Party Favors, there were about fifteen cooks in the kitchen demanding another song that sounded like “Animal,” or a song that could go viral like “Michelle.” I didn’t show the music to anyone until the album was complete. During that time I was mercifully dropped from my label, and then I requested there to be no feedback. Steph Marziano produced the album, and our friends and loved ones played on it. For the first time in years, I was truly enjoying the process. I felt like I was in school again making music with my friends. There was true joy in the process.
KP: I think that emancipation is important to so many artists, and I’m thrilled that it’s becoming exceedingly more common. There’s freedom in decorporatization.
Do you have a favorite lyric? A favorite track?
SC: My favorite track right now is “Passenger.” I can’t speak to a favorite lyric. Everything too stupid to be said is sung.
KP: I really loved both “Forgiving” and “Kiss.” Can you walk us a little bit through their writing and production?
SC: I wrote all of the songs on my acoustic guitar and sang most of the demo vocals in the fetal position on my living room floor. “Forgiving” may have been the second song that I wrote for the record. I don’t remember how I got the idea, but I do remember enjoying all of the yelling. I sang the backing vocals with my tongue sticking out of my mouth like I was at a playground. I wanted it to sound mean. I shopped that song around to many producers, and Steph was the first one who really breathed life into it. During the recording process, that song became our baby. We were very protective over it. I played guitar on it, and with everyone else who played on the track, we mostly just let them follow their instincts to see where things went.
With “Kiss,” I started out with an entirely different song structure. When Steph and I got to the studio, she floated the idea of mixing the parts around, and it felt like suddenly we had something special on our hands. On the day that we recorded the vocals, I believe I had a big cry for some reason, then recorded them all jumping around and screaming. It felt good. In my opinion, I do my best work right after a massive cry.
KP: That makes a ton of sense to me. It was said that the album doesn’t “dwell on survival or victimhood.” What can you share with us about those emotions?
SC: Not much. I’m responsible for a situation that I put myself in; I got PTSD and wrote a record about it. It’s a real bastard to realize that you have yourself to blame more than anyone else.
“I’ve never liked being alive. I think it’s important to find joy in corners to make sticking around worthwhile. Love is one of those things.”
KP: What advice would you lend to women who seek to heal from their own trauma and reclaim their own personal power in the process?
SC: Get a good therapist and do your best not to kill yourself.
KP: “The Hole” came out of what you called a “deep, dark, ugly place with no escape in sight.” It was also inspired by Taryn Simon’s “A Cold Hole” installation at MASS MOCA, a piece that blurs performance, vulnerability, and spectacle. What about that exhibit personally struck a nerve for you?
SC: I just loved the whole thing. It was visually so stark and grim, and watching people subject themselves to it was fascinating.
KP: “Eyes” was written for your girlfriend, which is such a beautiful tribute.
SC: Love her.
KP: I love that! What can you tell us about its inspiration?
SC: I’ve never liked being alive. I think it’s important to find joy in corners to make sticking around worthwhile. Love is one of those things. I’m a hopeless romantic. She is the most wonderful person that I have ever met. Being around her feels like I’ve been forgiven. She is joy personified. I was afraid to write her a love song because I was so desperate to do her justice. I cried very much while writing it, and in the demo you can hear me crying. I still cry when I sing it live and she’s in the audience. Hopefully I won’t cry too much on this tour. If I do, they’re happy tears.
KP: I really fucking love that. As a gay woman myself, I know that existing outside of society’s conventions from birth has expanded my mind more than anything else. It is such a gift, and it leaves you with this incredible sense of empathy for so many different individuals who share that same experience of being the outsider. Do you feel that your love or your identity at large has informed your creativity or outlook in any way? If so, how?
SC: I started out gay, went through a brief bisexual phase, then went back to my roots. I grew up in a conservative town. Today, when people from my hometown hear my stage name, apparently they become incensed. I’ve written primarily about women my entire career. After a lifetime of shame, I woke up one day and realized that I built a career around being gay. Touring in countries where being gay is illegal, kids tell me that they come to my shows because it’s one of the few places that they feel safe to be themselves. This monologue doesn’t do my perspective justice, but I feel incredibly lucky to be a part of this community.
KP: That’s so special, really. And speaking of the past, you began Sir Chloe as your senior thesis project at Bennington College. What was the original concept behind it, and how has it evolved since?
SC: I was a folk singer for about nine years before Sir Chloe. I wanted to change my sound because the subject matter I was writing about was changing. I called up my friend and asked her to figure out a stage name with me, and “Sir Chloe” is where we landed. I had the songs, I asked a few musicians to play with me, and we arranged them into what turned into the Party Favors album.
KP: What would you tell women who wish to pursue music as a career path today?
SC: No one’s going to give you permission, and don’t compare yourself to people.
KP: What do you know now that you wish you knew then?
SC: Failure is freedom under the right circumstances.
KP: What advice would you lend women about life, work, or love?
SC: Take your education seriously.
KP: What do you feel makes a provocative woman?
SC: Not much.
Photography (in order of appearance): Alex Farina, Jennifer Medina
