Whatever happened to Cassie Ramone?
On the cusp of the pandemic, Ramone’s first-and-best-known group, Vivian Girls, released a surprise post-break-up album: 2019’s Memory, which also served to soft-announce a reunion. It was another unexpected move in a 15-plus-year career consisting of everything from off-the-cuff cassette releases under pseudonyms to wildly popular albums by Ramone’s bands The Babies and the aforementioned Vivian Girls. Whether intentionally or not, Cassie Ramone has created a mythology around herself, a mystique writ large in her music. Ramone’s songs are perpetually shrouded in layers of reverb and distortion that smear her melodies and guitar work. At times, the chord changes swell up and sweep the vocal off its feet, with Ramone hanging on in the center, her instantly recognizable voice registering equal parts desperation, love, and ennui as the music crests and trails into the ether.
Vinyl LP
Perhaps Ramone’s most unexpected move so far is breaking a five-year silence with a surprise video essay album, Sweetheart, uploaded to YouTube days after it was completed. Composed of 11 DIY phone vignettes filmed verité style by Ramone, the footage is raw and diaristic and is soundtracked by the album in its entirety. Despite her lengthy discography with band projects, Sweetheart is only Ramone’s second solo album; but it’s possibly her best record to date, the culmination of almost two decades of songwriting and honing her sound. Heartbreaking and raw, and featuring her sharpest writing yet, Sweetheart was crafted with collaborator Dylan White from song fragments Ramone sang into a voice recorder over bonfires at night. The finished songs range from distorted, visceral head cleaners like “They Hide Their Eyes” to melancholy starlit waltzes touched by tragedy (“Joy To The World”) to some of the catchiest songs Ramone’s ever written—take “Together” or the Mac Demarco-featuring “The Only Way I Know How” as examples.
Recorded at White’s Valley Structures studio on frequent trips south to Richmond, Virginia—Ramone lives in Brooklyn—Sweetheart peels back the curtain, just a little, on the swirling, creative energy at the heart of Cassie Ramone’s music. What’s revealed is a frankness and emotional truth that’s always been there, informed by classic American songwriting and years of freewheeling living. That Ramone has released it on her own label—created with White in true DIY fashion—should come as no surprise.
Vinyl LP, Compact Disc (CD)
Whatever happened to Cassie Ramone? She lived more in five years than most people do in decades and came out the other end with the best music of her career. We spoke to her about it.
I wanted to ask about some of the biographical details you write about in the sleeve notes to the record and in the music itself—the events since 2019’s Vivian Girls album: “I quit drinking. I got engaged. I went back to school, I spent 24 hours in jail. I have spent the last few years working as a driver for food delivery apps…”
It’s funny. When I was in my early 20s, it was on my bucket list to go to jail for one night, but for whatever I did [to end up there] to have no real repercussions. I ended up going to jail for a driving offense. I turned myself in and spent 24 hours inside. There were no permanent repercussions. I went to court twice after that and my case got dismissed. It’s expunged from my record. But yeah. Being in jail sucked. Now I’m in my late 30s and I can say, “I did that.” But I never want to be there again.
If feels like a classic American movie.
Especially the boring parts. I guess I used to want to be a ‘bad girl.’ But I’m definitely not bragging about it. These things happen, make of it what you will.
It feels like between this and the last record you went through some stuff?
I guess so. A few of the songs are pretty old, predating Memory or The Time Has Come. It’s been interesting, but I can’t complain. “Every day is a winding road,” as Sheryl Crow says. I wanted to be honest with the reader when I wrote my press release: ‘These are a few of the things that occurred in my life.” Some of it is kind of crazy, some of it is pretty mundane. It’s been a weird few years. But none of it makes me that special. Everyone’s life is interesting.
I’ve started believing in God again within the past few years. It’s been a large part of the process of making Sweetheart. Sweetheart is the first record I’ve made where I consciously tried to let God lead the way to the best of my ability. I had a lot of doubt and uncertainty many times throughout the process. And then God would magically bring me to an answer. Recording this album was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done, but it was also a heavily spiritual experience. Don’t get me wrong, it was also really fun. I loved working with Dylan in Richmond.
How did the collaboration with Dylan come about? Even though the record is raw and dark at points, you can still feel that the musicians are having fun…
Dylan and I are both from New Jersey. We met in Brooklyn, but we both temporarily moved back to New Jersey in 2014. That’s when our friendship really blossomed. I played bass in his band for a little while. I really love his songwriting and the way he plays guitar. I recorded a solid portion of [Ramone’s Christmas album] Christmas In Reno at his parents’ house—often when he wasn’t even there. He had this setup in his parents’ basement that was very comforting to me, and a lot of gear that he graciously let me use, particularly his synthesizers. He also played some guitar on three of the songs.
In December 2021, at his wedding in Las Vegas, we had this drunken idea of making a long-distance album. We actually followed up with it a few months later. I sent him an iPhone voice phone demo of ‘Together,” and then he sent back his demo version, and I was like, “This slaps!”As the kids say. We did “Wait a Minute” the same way. These demos were really short—like, well under two minutes long.
After that the project fell by the wayside for a bit. I was trying to get a job in the tech industry, of all places, but it wasn’t happening. I was broke, and my job hunt was going nowhere. So I just called him up right before Thanksgiving 2023 and said, “Hey. Let’s do this. Let’s make an album. For real. I’m coming down to Richmond in three weeks. Are you down?”
So I drove down to Richmond, drove back, then drove back down again, and just kept doing it until the record was finished. Everyone close to me thought I was crazy. I fell behind on rent, abandoned the idea of a career in tech. But even though this sounds so corny and also insane, making this album was the only thing that felt right to me at that time. It was one of the strongest convictions I’ve ever had in my life. I still feel that conviction when I listen to it now.
You always seemed to me to be someone who likes being in bands and collaborating. Did you approach this record very much as a “solo” record, and was it different to previous solo work you’ve done?
It was completely different to anything I’ve ever done before. I didn’t play very many instruments on this record, which is a first for me. Dylan is extremely creative, and the way he approaches music inspired me a great deal. I couldn’t have made this album with anyone else.
We’d lay a scratch track down to a metronome, and then Dylan would build the track up. I would usually go on drives while he did that. And then I’d make these crazy, very, very detailed song maps. He’d send me a track-in-progress, and I would be in a Target parking lot mapping it out. It would probably take me an hour to do one song, replaying certain timestamps and writing out notes in a notepad.
When I was out driving around, it was meditative in a way. Like, when I used to sing to myself and record it during the lockdowns, I could go over different parts of songs in my head and sometimes, out of the blue, I would come up with lyrics or a structural idea. So I’d drive back, we’d work on it, then I’d go back out again.
Sweetheart feels a lot more focused and honed. The songs sound a lot more “classic.” Even the title is quite “Americana…”
Dylan’s ideas are in every song, and I credit him with the reason it sounds focused and honed. I can be all over the place, and he helped reign it in a lot. I think some of the Americana aspect came subconsciously, like from all the drives I did going back and forth, and spending so much time in Virginia. I’ve always been into Americana and American culture and history—like in a funny way, as a first generation child of immigrants, it was my way of rebelling against my parents when I was young. Now that I’ve had some space from the recording process, I would say this album could be described as an homage to the last century of American music. Some of these songs could have been written 50 or 100 years ago. It’s very special.
I wanted to ask about vulnerability. There’s a difference to how you’re presenting Sweetheart to Vivian Girls and The Babies. Listening to those groups, as well as your first solo record, that vulnerability is there but it’s more ‘on-your-sleeve’ now. It’s like you were more defensive, evasive when you were young. Does Sweetheart represent a new way of expressing yourself?
I would say yes, but not on purpose. I developed a pretty bad drinking problem in my 20s; it lasted for about a decade. It took me a long time to deal with it. I was just trying to hide and escape my life. I don’t want to be that person who’s like, “I got sober and I’m a brand new person now” because I’m not—I’m as nuts as I ever was. That hasn’t changed. But I had a big wall up for a long time, and now I’m trying to whittle it down to, like, a white picket fence.
The truth is important. I can look back and realize when I tried too hard in my music and did something that wasn’t really true to me. Now I feel like, “What have I got to lose?” YOLO. It’s weird talking about music and art like that because, you know, it’s not really yours. It’s a communication with something else, and that’s what you have to be honest to. It was also like the gift of desperation. I went down to Richmond—my home life was a mess at the time, I was staring into the abyss and I was saying “speak to me if you want to” and it did.
When you were trying to land a job had you basically given up on music?
No. This is the most obvious thing to say but it’s true: Covid really messed me up. I was thinking about what to do with my life, and there was so much uncertainty. We released a Vivian Girls album just before Covid, and then I knew I couldn’t tour for a very long time. There was this vast expense of, “How long am I gonna be locked at home for?” I got some songs out of the stir-craziness, but it definitely hit me with how I approach music. During that time, I went back to school and got a UX/UI certificate right about the time the tech industry started a bunch of layoffs. It’s cool though. I can make apps now.
Sweetheart seems to be a true DIY passion project, from recording the music, designing all the art, starting your own label with Dylan to release it. Do you feel like the process has changed compared to when you first started out? What prompted the punk way that you just threw it out on YouTube rather than going a more traditional route?
Everything has changed since I first started out, I’ll say that much. We finished the record, and then we felt we had two options with it. Either shop around and wait a year for it to come out, or just throw it out. We felt like we were pregnant—like we were carrying a baby that was overdue. I’m very happy we went this route. It was like early Vivian Girls days—[back then] whenever we had new music, we would just throw it up on MySpace.
Would you have done it this way 10 years ago? Recorded a whole album with a video accompaniment?
Nope. I just had this idea one day. “Why don’t I just start filming everything?” There are so many interesting things around me every day. I recorded every day for three months—hours of footage using a private account on a popular app, and it automatically saved to my phone. I don’t even know how I got the idea. It just came to me.
What’s your attitude towards the music industry now? It seems there’s way less money in the industry now, so it’s like, these days to make a living you have to get a sync, or go viral on TikTok. I find it really alienating.
That’s the one thing I’m not really stoked on, the social media thing. I’m trying to do what I can with it while still being true to myself, but I don’t really like social media strategy. It’s pretty toxic. It would be cool to be on a major label, be a one-hit wonder. I would be so happy if I didn’t have to look at my social media data analytics, or hear the words “content creator” ever again. But I know everything ebbs and flows. I’ve been in the industry for almost 20 years now, so I know it’ll come and it’ll go.
Like, do you have to put what you had for dinner on TikTok to sell a record?
I had this weird A.I. make this reel for me as a joke, I found it so ridiculous I had to post it. You never know, maybe I’ll get better at ‘making content.’ You never know what life has in store.
The final question I wanted to ask was about the future: How was the first show with Dylan?
It was really sweet. It was our first time playing as a duo, on stage. I’m looking forward to doing it more. I’m also looking into buying an RV right now, to tour in. Maybe one day I’ll have kids and take them to all the National Parks my parents took me to in the same RV. Sometime soon I’ll do a full band tour for Sweetheart. It’s to be determined where and when that’ll happen.
Are you going to make another new solo album? You’re playing some Babies shows again…
There aren’t any plans for the Babies to record, but that could change. There’s always the possibility of a new Vivian Girls album, but we don’t know when. It’s not happening tomorrow but it will happen at some point. Dylan and I have been talking about a second record. A part of me wants to move to Richmond, get a part time job and work on music with Dylan. It sounds like a good life to me.
