What started as bothering police in church car parks has swiftly turned Showing Teeth into the most talked about new band of the year. In her first-ever cover interview anywhere, we meet mastermind Addison to discover how she has created this exciting universe to defy the haters and disrupt the status quo...
Let's clarify something, just in case you’ve read or heard otherwise: Showing Teeth is Addison, and Addison is Showing Teeth.
Sure, the 26-year-old, who goes surname-less to protect her privacy, plays with a band onstage – Ben Solomon (guitar), Jacob Umansky (bass), and Justin Wooman (drums). Those appearances included scorching supporting turns at Bring Me The Horizon’s Count Your Blessings arena shows in Manchester last month, as well as her first European headline show at Camden’s Barfly days later, with both coming after the release of only two songs. But Showing Teeth’s music is Addison’s brutal and beautiful brainchild. And it’s set to make her heavy music’s next superstar.
“I consider myself Showing Teeth,” Addison affirms now for those at the back. “Because it’s a universe I’m creating. Not a fictional universe, but a thematic one. Plus, at the end of the day, I have all of the deciding power on what stays and what goes in a song. I’m editing everything down to fine hairs because I have this world I want everything to live in, so I’m particular about everything, sonically, right down to the way my vocals are produced. I’m going to make my producer [Dan Book] go grey any day now!”
Showing Teeth’s status as a solo artist should be clear to anyone lucky enough to have witnessed her searing charisma or the deftness of her way with an audience firsthand. And yet, others are less sure quite where to place Addison, subjecting her to labels that are at best inaccurate, and at worst carry a slight residue of sexism.
“When a guy writes and records his own music, he’s called a singer-songwriter. When a girl does it, she’s called a pop artist,” argues Addison. “Why can’t I just be a singer-songwriter? Why does it have to turn into a ‘metal pop star’ or ‘solo artist’ tag? Just because the sounds I choose to go with aren’t typical of a singer-songwriter, because I think it’s typically viewed as being a role in the alternative indie space. Just because I’m screaming and there’s guitars and distortion, doesn’t mean it’s a different thing.”
Addison is currently in Nashville, where she lives, in the midst of a move from “a shitty old apartment to a not-as-shitty-but-very-old house” where her internet speed is running at a paltry 10mbps. It took her a whole day to download Red Dead Redemption. “That’s how vintage we are over at Showing Teeth headquarters.”
She’s a Kentucky girl, though, having grown up with half of her family in Louisville and the other half in the eastern part of the state situated in Appalachia, the sprawling region in the Appalachian Mountains that spans 12 other U.S. states. While both have their charms, Addison isn’t the most enthusiastic ambassador for either, though the sweet melody of her accent and the warmth of her demeanour are certainly a great advert for its people.
“I definitely resonate more with the Appalachian side, but I wouldn’t say either parts are great places to grow up if you don’t have a lot of friends or don’t like to be outside a lot. There’s not a whole lot to do other than go hiking and have animals.”
Almost on cue, Addison’s cat, Stanley, saunters into the room, arching his back sharply as if electrified by the attention he receives. This isn’t, we’re told, the feline photographed open-mouthed – perhaps yawning, maybe meowing – on the cover of ST’s forthcoming debut EP, A Fate Worse Than Loneliness; that would be Michael, who’s both a female and a recluse compared to the extroverted Stanley, so is hiding in one of the closets in these new digs.
Having more space benefits Addison’s artistic endeavours too. Anyone familiar with her YouTube channel will know many of her videos are recorded in her Honda Accord, generally sitting in one of the car’s front seats with her laptop atop her knees, headphones on and mic in hand, delivering incendiary covers of tracks by everyone from Underoath to Whitechapel. (The latter band, Addison says, is the one she gets most starstruck around, having long been a fan and name-checking them in “four billion interviews.”)
Despite some suggesting the car recordings are intended as a nod to, or a send up of, Carpool Karaoke, we’re relieved to report that Addison is way too cool to be taking cues from professional tryhard James Corden. Instead, this ‘car studio’ was utilised for logistical necessity.
“It was totally out of necessity,” she admits with a laugh. “I’m from the DIY space, so to me, it’s pretty normal to record in your car. If I could record inside, I would have been the whole time. I don’t like having interactions out in public, it’s kind of a nightmare for me. So I used to drive hours into the woods so I could be as isolated as possible and avoid situations.”
More recently, with Addison’s increasing need to record demos and videos, and the cost of petrol associated with more long drives, resulted in her seeking a religious solution. “I started to use church parking lots,” explains Addison. “They have good lighting and are usually pretty empty except on Wednesday nights and Sundays. And being in Tennessee, there’s a new church popping up every week.”
Presumably if she’s regularly sitting in her car, loitering and screaming near a place of worship, she’s attracted attention that’s interrupted your creative flow?
“Oh yeah, I’ve had cops show up, I’ve had all kinds of runners give me strange looks. The worst thing, though, is when I’m excited about a demo idea, and then finding out there’s a farmer’s market happening at my spot, then I have to drive miles to find a different spot, often while trying to remember the idea I had. I record voice memos and, I’m going to be honest, a lot of the demos were literally instrumentals with voice memo vocals slapped on top.”
You might think, then, given this relatively crude way of working, that Labyrinth and Bad Exchanges, and the other five tracks on her debut EP were the ones that made the grade amongst a multitude of false starts and nixed ideas. Not so, it turns out.
“Honestly, what’s on the EP is very much what I had. Because with no budget, and getting help when I could, meant I had to be very patient.”
“There’s a disturbing amount of people that are extremely negative about how this is going”
The fact that the brilliant tracks on A Fate Worse Than Loneliness are Addison's preliminary efforts, with no lesser examples preceding them, might go some way to explaining, but not justifying, some of the cynicism directed towards Showing Teeth. Throw into the mix her admission that she was capable of such accomplished vocals from the get-go, as well as her speedy arrival in the public consciousness, and you’ve got the recipe for someone sure to provoke jealousy in certain quarters.
“There’s a disturbing amount of people that are extremely negative about how this is going,” she says of some of the more unpleasant responses she’s received. “Either it’s as simple as them saying I’m an industry plant, or as far-fetched as writing fully fabricated stories of how my dad, supposedly a music executive, started my career.
“It’s hard for me to read those things because I come from a background of not being supported musically, and definitely not being supported financially when it comes to the music. It can be hard when I’m spending every dollar I have on a project just to know that people are reading Reddit threads of how I’m being funded by some mythical LA music industry guy.”
Addison’s father is in fact an accountant who could possibly get you a discount in one of the hotel chains he’s worked for, but can do absolutely nothing for Addison’s music career, or anyone else’s for that matter, so this is a nepo baby-free zone. And there’s no other string-pulling impresario helping to cut corners on her way to the top for that matter.
“I think ignoring the comments does a disservice to the people who like the music,” she suggests, entirely reasonably. “I like the positivity that’s out there, but to look for it, you have to be willing to see the negativity too. I try to interact with people who are supportive because I’m extremely grateful for them. Plus, I like to try and poke holes in the negativity. I love it when people comment that the songs are too good for me to have written them, but by the end of the comment they’re saying the songs are so bad it’s got to be AI. I mean, which one is it?”
It all started with a kid called Cameron. As a child, Addison was subjected to the Christian music her mum and dad listened to, the occasional inoffensive pop ditty on local radio, and little else. Her parents' religious persuasion meant their daughter was sent to Christian camp when she was at middle school, unknowingly starting her on the trajectory she’s on today.
At camp she met Cameron and the two became fast friends. So much so, that when the week of activities, community and explorations of faith were over and Cameron returned to his native Indiana, the two remained in touch online, where he’d send Addison some of his favourite music for her to listen to. Its impact was revelatory.
“I remember listening and thinking, ‘This is the best thing ever!’” she recalls. “I got really into Periphery and Veil Of Maya, then I went off down my own little rabbit holes to discover bands like Animals As Leaders.”
Anyone who’s already done their homework on Showing Teeth will be aware that Periphery, specifically the prog metallers’ drummer Matt Halpern, plays a key role in this story. Before Dan Book became Addison’s producer, he was trying to get in touch with Addison after seeing her videos. Unsure how to do so, as she never checks her DMs on Instagram (“That’s a scary place!”), Dan spoke to Periphery’s Matt, his childhood friend, knowing Addison was a fan of the band, and asked for his help in reaching out to her.
“So at first, it was Matt connecting me to Dan,” explains Addison. “I tend to say that Matt was successfully used as bait. Then after that [Matt] was like a mentor who was very helpful and connected me with Zach Munowitz, who I write with a lot and is one of the best guitar players. Matt heard one of the demos we were working on and he said, ‘Maybe I could play drums on that’, then said the same about the second one and the third one. It turned into writing sessions together, super open and collaborative. This is my music family.”
“A lot of artists will spend a lot of money on things they think are going to be ‘the moment’ for them”
While having experienced heads around her is useful, this is far from Addison’s first rodeo. Despite earning a healthcare degree, her parents having made her go to college, Addison has been around the music business for some time. She’s played in bands (like her boyfriend, Static Dress’ George Holding, bass is her chosen instrument). She’s been in close proximity to friends in music with and without label support. And she’s done social media for bands, though withholds their names, as many are well known and not receptive to her expertise, to their cost.
“I had already been posting online, and my socials had been doing well since I started. It’s always been something that’s kind of easy for me,” she says, before reining in the immodesty. “I don’t know that it’s easy. It’s just I post and I find my people. Honestly, me working with other artists is trying to get them to understand that people actually need to know you exist in order to hear your music. A lot of artists will spend a lot of money behind the scenes on things they think are going to be ‘the moment’ for them. And I’d have to tell them that these moments are only beneficial to people who already know you exist.”
Addison has been described as a ‘disruptor’, a buzzword traditionally used for a company that changes the way an industry traditionally operates. How, then, does it apply to Showing Teeth?
“Being disruptive in the alternative, independent music label world,” she explains with regards to her impact. “Especially those metal labels that are just throwing money at social media content and music videos, and when it doesn’t work they just give up on the artist. With me, I’m just posting videos I take on my iPhone, which I think has made some people not-so-stoked, and it’s made other bands frustrated because their labels aren’t helping them.”
Why don’t more people emulate the innovators out there, winning on their own terms?
“Because they’re scared.”
If going it alone doesn’t scare Addison, where, one wonders, did the title of her debut EP come from?
“It’s funny because I like to be alone,” she reveals, gleeful at the irony of calling her record A Fate Worse Than Loneliness. The title is, in fact, a nod to a lyric from the track Shallow Grave, in which a woozy, warm bath of an intro gives way to face-smashing verses and an angelic chorus, while including the words, ‘I sacrifice my loneliness for something much worse’.
“It’s saying there are personal relationships that are so much worse than, God forbid, being lonely. Most people tend to make loneliness seem like this horrible thing, and I think that’s why people end up in bad situations, socially.”
Unfortunately, Addison is speaking from experience.
“There was a part of my life when I was made to feel it was weird to be alone, and that’s when I really went out of my way to be part of things that I didn’t really want to be a part of, and it ended up really hurting me.”
“There was a part of my life when I was made to feel weird to be alone... and it ended up really hurting me”
Much like in her music, Addison’s answers are sufficiently clear to give a definite sense of their meaning, though leave enough space for everyone else to colour between the lines.
“Hopefully I could change some people’s perspective on loneliness,” she continues, “and why sometimes you have to choose yourself before you try working on other people.”
Towards the end of the EP, the two concluding tracks, A&Ox1 and Paradigm, showcase a very different sound to the one listeners will have become accustomed to on Labyrinth, Bad Exchanges and Rip. A&Ox1 is 70 seconds of dreamy soundscape, accompanied by the voice of Addison’s grandmother, her accent stronger than her granddaughter’s, culminating with the words: “It’s not rocket science… it’s just common sense.”
Paradigm, meanwhile, reveals what a dextrous instrument Addison’s voice truly is, her lovely mellifluous tone dancing over glacial instrumentation, before its latter half submits to those more feral impulses. Has it been important for Addison to hold back these different facets, so as to ensure that neither she, nor her listeners, get complacent?
“For me, Showing Teeth has never been about the genre it’s in. It’s always been about emotion, and I just happen to emotionally connect the most to a lot of metalcore and other very heavy music. But most of the demos don’t start out heavy at all, and it later becomes heavy, or vice versa. It’s important to establish that Showing Teeth is going to go in different directions, sonically, because it’s whatever suits the emotion best.”
With work on A Fate Worse Than Loneliness having wrapped a year ago, there have presumably been a lot of emotions since then and a lot of music to convey those emotions. That’ll come later, though. For now it’s about the EP at hand, which Addison hopes means something to people because it means so much to her.
“To me, a record doing well is reaching people the way I want it to reach them,” she concludes. “That would be the best feeling in the world.”
Showing Teeth's EP A Fate Worse Than Loneliness is released on September 4 via Republic/Spinefarm.
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