Words by Piper Toohey Olsen / Photos by Piper Toohey Olsen (in August during their interview with Youth Large)
When Em Margey, the mind behind Brooklyn’s best-kept secret, Youth Large, invites me to visit their workplace, I don’t expect to find them sitting at the counter with the regulars. I’m immediately offered a mozzarella stick and something to drink as conversation continues, effortlessly folding me in. Two guests stand up from a booth to hug Em goodnight. They met mere hours ago. This is Em’s world, fast friends, and it feels nice to be in their aura.
I first met Em in a much different setting. We connected over social media before meeting IRL at Purgatory, where I watched them scream “everybody thinks I’m weird!” in a black wig. At that moment I knew something special was happening, that I was witnessing a true artist who embodied a DIY ambition that shines brightly in small venues but quickly requires larger and larger stages.
Youth Large’s latest EP, Honeysuckle, released October 17th, 2024, proved tenfold that Em Margey is the real deal. Produced by Charlie White and released under Toadstool Records, the four-song project covers themes of change and temporality, referencing past and future in the same breath as Em mourns things they have not even yet lost.
The EP’s accompanying zine, titled “time keeps going, I keep losing things I was clinging to with every part of me” after a lyric in the titular track “Honeysuckle,” is a collection of art and literature submitted by friends and fans of Youth Large. A testament to community, the zine allowed people to reflect on the themes of Honeysuckle and work out how they relate to Em’s theories on temporality and self-reflection.
Below is our conversation about, yes, the spiritual symbolism of Honeysuckle, but also what it means to be a true self-made musician in Brooklyn and how to navigate the ever-moving goalposts of success in independent music.
When you perform, do you feel like it’s you or a persona?
EM: I feel like it’s me. Yeah, it’s really important that it is me, and if it doesn’t feel like me, then I’ll go have a cry in the bathroom after. That’s been one thing that’s hard in terms of collaboration, is that it’s such a personal thing for me in such an extreme way. But I think that I have a generally chill demeanor, so people wouldn’t know how cutting it is in my head. And performing live, I feel, is the pinnacle of that.
Is it an authenticity thing?
EM: Yeah. I definitely went through periods in making music, just wanting to feel like people would hear me, since I feel like I went through a period where I was, like, screaming and yelling all the time, which sometimes I still like to do.
Which I love by the way.
EM: I just want it to be honest. If it’s true to the song that day, then it is. But if it’s not true to the song that day, then it doesn’t need to be. A song changes with time. I just really want to be perfect.
Do you feel that way when you’re recording as well, like the perfect take is better than the most raw, honest take, or do you want something that sounds true to the emotion?
EM: I want something that sounds true to the emotion, but sometimes it’s one of those things where if you try too hard, that’s not really it, and I think that having a separate set of ears on this, being Charlie [White], has helped me with that. But at the same time I get really sensitive. And I’m like, Oh, to have someone not be into a take, where you have no idea the world I entered doing that... is like… different. But at the same time, a take is a take. It could mean everything, or it could be nothing. But this makes me think about how I really cling to my own demos, because that’s who it is; that’s the song part of me. I could just release my demos, but it is important to flesh something out all the way.
Did you think “I’m gonna create an EP and I want it to be this” or were you like “these are the songs that are coming up for me?”
EM: I think I decided I was gonna do a four song EP with Charlie, because he was like, I’m down. Let’s do it. I knew “North.” That’s a song I’ve been sitting on for years, but it’s time for it to come out. “I Was Being Funny” I wrote in Charlie’s basement. We fleshed that out together and we both were like, “Whoa. This is really cool.” I wrote “Warn Me,” “Hold Me” and “Honeysuckle” in April. “North” ended up being the final one we recorded, which was such a hump emotionally to get over. So it didn’t start with one concept. I had almost a completely different set of songs that I was gonna go with. But then I just wrote a bunch, like three of the four songs are whispering, and I do feel like they live in the same universe, and I really like the order. It feels very cohesive to me.
I really love how it sounds. I feel like the themes are so, like, the word that kept coming into my head was seasonal. There’s so much change. Do you feel like there’s an aura of that?
EM: Yeah, this is the biggest year of change I’ve ever had in so many different directions, for better and for worse. Honestly, mostly for better. And I think that “Honeysuckle” is like… that is my song! I’m so cheesy to bring up my own lyrics, but… “Time keeps going. I keep losing things I was clinging to, with every part of me.” That’s the EP to me.
That’s probably why the title is Honeysuckle. Is that why you chose it?
EM: I kind of wanted to name it “Time Keeps Going I Keep Losing Things I Was Clinging to With Every Part of Me.” From a music standpoint, Charlie said it’s sometimes good to put one of the songs [as a title]. And honeysuckle has a very layered spiritual meaning to me.
What’s the meaning?
EM: I started [the song] as a challenge to write a song about nature, because I often find songs about nature, like, a bit on the nose. Honeysuckle is a flower that was in my grandpa’s backyard. My grandma taught me how to suck the honey out of it, and it’s just my favorite thing. And now, in the house that my mom lives in, which is not where I grew up, the neighbor has honeysuckles that grow over the fence onto our property. But then the word “honeysuckle” itself is like, sucking the honey out of something. Something like loss– loss of sweetness, in a way.
I also wanted to talk about your relationship to place. I feel like you are rooted firmly in where you came from and where you are at the same time – like your personal instagram is @jerseygirlatheart. Do you feel like that’s true, and, like the honeysuckle, that’s a landmark of your life, both physically and metaphorically?
EM: I definitely do identify as a Jersey girl at heart, but only as of this year. I just need to run home sometimes! But I also left it for a reason. I was talking about “environment,” which is essentially a place, two days ago with some girls who got four rounds of Cosmos at my job. They were talking about where they’re at in their lives. And I was like, “Well, the number one thing that we can’t control, which is really hard, is our environment. But when you can control it, it’s very powerful.“ Like, to choose to be in the place where you want to be, if that’s leaving a party early, if that’s moving out… I do think that I change my places, and it’s very grounding for me to have a sanctuary.
You talk about the past and the future, and you’re situated in a space where you want things and you know they don’t last. You’re fully aware. As you’re losing things, it’s almost like: This was inevitable, and I accept it, but I’m still gonna be mad about that– which is why the album doesn’t feel too dark.
EM: I simply agree with that one. It’s so weird to be at the most present I’ve ever been in my life. But being the most present forces you to live in the in-between space and be hyper-aware and more self-aware of change and temporariness, and also the way you treat something when you know it’s gonna go away. There is always a before, even though everything inevitably goes away. I think that’s what’s really hard to mourn.
When you wrote these songs, was Charlie in the room with you? Did writing them feel vulnerable? Or was it you being like, Well, this is the truth?
EM: I don’t write songs around people. This is the closest thing I’ve had to that. Charlie has written with a lot of people, and to him, it’s like a chill thing. We found a drum loop, and I told him, I just won’t speak in front of someone, I won’t sing in front of someone. That’s something I still don’t really like to do. I also really want to impress him and whatnot. But I told him at a certain point, I was like, I need you to leave me alone for 10 minutes. And he went upstairs, and then I wrote “I Was Being Funny,” and then he wrote the guitar around it.
It was cool that I was able to see that’s what works for me right now. I think it’d be cool to be able to write with someone one day, but at the same time, it is really such a precious thing, and a special time with myself. Even though I did all those lyrics for me, and I did write alone, it wasn’t me and my guitar by myself. [“I Was Being Funny”] feels the most impersonal on EP to me. Which is funny, because the people that I have shared it with, it stands out to them. It is kind of like a pop song.
What does that song mean to you?
EM: I don’t know if I quite know how to articulate it, but that song, I don’t think, comes across about what it’s about. To me, it’s me to myself, and it’s all about dissociating. The times where I feel like I’m taking the most “textbook” care of myself, I’m still like, Why do I feel so bad and empty and lonely, and how could I be doing all the right things and following my dreams?
You said this record felt different, this is kind of a departure for you. Was there a point that you decided your next project was going to be something serious?
EM: I feel like it’s been a slow, slow ladder. I’m just realizing in life nobody takes you seriously unless you take yourself seriously– If I could try to sound professional in an email, which, God, for the life of me, I will never work a real job in my life, because I’m not cut out for that–I tried my best with this. I do feel like I’ve grown so much as a person, an artist; I understand how things work a little more. Realistically, I would love to be touring and performing and be able to pay people and myself.
Absolutely. The first time I saw you live was at Purgatory. You came out in a wig. And then I was like, “This person is taking this really seriously.” You had a banner and you put the show together yourself. I remember the first time you played some of your new songs. And I was like, “I don’t know the words to this one. Wait, what is this?” I was so excited! It just felt like all this change was happening, and now it’s finally being put out!
EM: How I see myself, for the first time, it’s not like glimmers or like an idea. I feel like I’m able to look at myself and see, yeah, that’s how I want to be, and that’s how I am. And that translates in the way I’m able to make such raw and earnest music. If I’m not being bluntly honest then it’s not going to come out.
Is there anything that you feel like you want people to take away from this EP?
EM: I feel like every song is so specific to me that I’m really here to know what each song means to other people. So I guess another thing is, if you see me at the show and you want to talk to me, please, I’m so pro-talk.
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Em calls Youth Large “a solo project with frequent collaborators.” The current live band is made up of Charlie White (producer, guitar), Fig Regan (of Um, Jennifer? fame on guitar, backing vocals) Basil Lee (drums), and Ian Williams (bass).
Keep up with Youth Large here!
