Matthew: PLASTIC. SYNTHETIC. HOWEVER YOU’RE FEELING, I CAN MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER. the sole words listed on the press page for ‘BIPP’ by SOPHIE
“I can make you feel better, if you let me”, sings the vocalist on SOPHIE’s breakout single ‘BIPP’, their words pitched beyond humanness. To the confused and isolated teenager struggling with my gender identity, SOPHIE really did make me feel better. It was the syntheticity of SOPHIE’s music that made me feel real. I found my home when I stumbled across your music, SOPHIE.
Eight years ago, SOPHIE was simply considered the stage name of an artist whose identity was shrouded in secrecy. “It’s really fucked up to call yourself SOPHIE and pretend that you’re a girl when you’re a male”, said electronic musician Grimes in 2015, among criticisms that SOPHIE’s music was appropriating femininity through its pitch-shiftedness and femme aesthetics. Later, when the world found out that SOPHIE’s name was a chosen name for the individual behind the music, it felt like SOPHIE’s identity as an artist was a coping mechanism for the gender dysphoria that would result in SOPHIE’s transness. SOPHIE, the artist, was a way of becoming Sophie, the human.
“SOPHIE had not only become the soundtrack to this time in my life, but created a community for me of others who felt similarly empowered by the escapism it provided.”
I first discovered SOPHIE when ‘BIPP’, a song that remains my favourite, was acclaimed by Pitchfork upon its 2013 release. The cogs were turning: ‘BIPP’ was the start of a movement, a new sound being sculptured. As a fan of pop music for its attention-grabbing qualities, the soundscape that SOPHIE had created was taking these sounds and pushing them past their extremes. Alongside the artists of the PC Music label, SOPHIE had not only become the soundtrack to this time in my life, but created a community for me of others who felt similarly empowered by the escapism it provided. It was transportative.
Following ‘BIPP’ would be years of relentless inspiration, of music discovery and self discovery. I would spend hours each day on a forum devoted to PC Music and its associates, taking part in our dedicatory DJ night ‘Dancing on a Laser Beam’, or tidily cataloguing every release by the network of affiliated musicians that were bringing joy into my life like nothing else was, so that others too could find solace in their work. I was particularly intrigued by the physical manifestations of a sound that was so digital in its nature. The collection of vinyl, CDs, and merchandise that I managed to accumulate has been bittersweet to look at in the days since SOPHIE’s death. My physical collection is a remnant of my time with SOPHIE, like souvenirs from a lengthy vacation.
What I have left of my time with SOPHIE is not only physical, but overwhelmingly sentimental. It is era-defining memories, and the creation of friendships that remain dear to me. I remember dancing with my older brother to ‘LEMONADE’ on top of a platform in the middle of a floral garden while on holiday. I remember sprinting home from high school to pre-order the scarce PRODUCT vinyl set, a collection of records I will prize for the rest of my life. I remember how ‘L.O.V.E.’, a song from PRODUCT that consists of nothing but sharp white noise broken up by Nokia-reminiscent ringtone music, brought me closer to my younger sibling: we both thought it was so unbelievably hysterical in the way that it straddled the intersection of pleasant and unpleasant. SOPHIE and PC Music are in many ways my biggest sensory recollections of that time in my life. It is music that demands for you to feel it throughout your system.
“SOPHIE and PC Music are in many ways my biggest sensory recollections of that time in my life. It is music that demands for you to feel it throughout your system.”
The rise of SOPHIE and PC Music has led to countless attempts by publications to describe the way it sounds, with the genre ‘hyperpop’ being established in the process, but it never felt like something I could put into words myself. It was BBC Radio 1’s Zane Lowe who best summed it up for me when he described PC Music as “not off-the-wall, it’s climb-the-wall. Completely climbed over the wall, and it’s on its own on the other side of the wall. We’ll all get past that wall eventually and catch up, but right now that is way out front.”
The genre pioneered by SOPHIE was always about climbing to new heights, and SOPHIE’s last living moments were spent climbing to see the full moon. It felt like Sophie just wanted a chance to see something as bright as Sophie was.
Maddy: My experience with SOPHIE starts a lot later than Matthew’s. The first time I vividly remember hearing SOPHIE’s production was in 2018, listening to Charli XCX’s ‘Vroom Vroom’. At the time, I had very preconceived (and probably quite snobbish) ideas about pop music, limiting it to the catchy, but ultimately unoriginal songs playing on the Top 40. Hearing ‘Vroom Vroom’ was a breath of fresh air, the abrasive sonic experimentation was completely unlike the guitar dirges I had been listening to. This was the gateway to SOPHIE’s music and the world of experimental pop – Dorian Electra, Caroline Polacheck, A. G. Cook, to name a few – that I needed. Being a fairly recent fan, I know that my sense of loss will be nothing compared to the ardent fans who have followed this scene for many years now. However, I will forever be indebted to SOPHIE for opening me up to the boundless joys of pop music.
I remember playing ‘Immaterial’ on one of my first radio shows on the Cambridge radio station, Cam FM. Its infectious melody sounded as life-affirming as the first time I had heard it. My Dad later told me that he had spent the rest of the afternoon researching the artist behind this song. SOPHIE’s music has the ability to intrigue casual listeners and make them want to put a human face to music that sounds so ethereal and superhuman.
“It is remarkable that, despite transforming the music industry, SOPHIE is still seen as an underground name.”
More recently, SOPHIE soundtracked my return to Cambridge this Michaelmas term. Reunited after months of lockdown, Matthew and I decided to have our own disco in my room, playing many of our hyperpop favourites. We listened to SOPHIE’s ‘Ponyboy’, a deliciously dark track. Fuelled by endless rum and cokes, there is much about that night that I do not remember (and regret). However, dancing to that track was a purely euphoric moment that will stay with me, reminding me how music can be such a strong bedrock for friendships.
Since hearing of SOPHIE’s death, I have been repeatedly listening to ‘It’s Okay to Cry’, the opening track on the album OIL OF EVERY PEARL’S UN-INSIDES. This was the first time SOPHIE’s own vocal performance was used on a track, and own face on its artwork. The song is an expression of visibility and an attempt to reclaim the narrative and assert an identity. Since SOPHIE’s passing, the song has taken on a new meaning, as fans find ways of coping with loss. It’s okay to mourn SOPHIE and the loss for the experimental pop scene. Yet, SOPHIE’s legacy will live on through the breadth of music left. It is remarkable that, despite transforming the music industry, SOPHIE is still seen as an underground name. It is up to those inspired by SOPHIE to continue pushing social and sonic boundaries.
