$20 Adv + Fees | 21+ “Being surrounded by death made me think about how beautiful life is.” As a final-year medical student, Sophie Payten (aka Gordi) learned to certify death. Beyond just what we see in the movies – checking for a pulse, hearing the monotone of a flatline, announcing the time – the process involves observing a person who's no longer responding. As she looked at their still, waxy skin, Payten says “It made me think of plasticine - that soft, malleable substance, that we can shape and mould in our hands, until we leave it to set in place. I thought about all the ways we are like plasticine in life - how forces we can’t control, contort us into shapes, stretch us thin, and test our resilience. But sometimes, heart-wrenching change can be a thing of beauty.” These moments of transition - the anguish and the ecstasy of change - are captured on her new album, ‘Like Plasticine’, which opens with the gritty, entirely iPhone-recorded GD (Goddamn), a reminder of the things we do to carry on and endure – Look around. Slow down. Call your mum. Over sparse, distorted synths, Payten sounds like she's trapped underwater or pressed against a window, looking in on the lives she is wondering how to step back into. Writing the album was a process of intense excavation. Payten took herself to Sydney for a pair of week-long residencies six months apart – first at Phoenix Central Park and the other at a church, both operated by arts patron Judith Nielson. "I think that whole first week I felt like an exposed nerve, because I was facing everything I'd been really actively not thinking about for a long time. I was like, alright, it's time. I'm ready for it to explode." Inside the vault, along with the tender, cerebral pop that's become a Gordi trademark, a surprising amount of joy sprang out. She'd written Peripheral Lover in Nashville a little while earlier, imagining she might give the song to another artist. It was so celebratory and effusive, she says, "it just really didn't feel like me on the last record". But time changed that, and the pop anthem, one that blends yearning, sensitive lyrics with a contagious synth beat, positions Payten alongside Robyn, Róisín Murphy, and other masters of the craft. If We Could, Would We is the latest effort from Brooklyn-based duo Gracie and Rachel (Gracie Coates and Rachel Ruggles), who have become known for their innovative brand of elevated indie-pop, complete with baroque string work and piercingly spare song structures. After releasing their self-titled debut to critical acclaim in 2017, Gracie and Rachel have been seen on stages opening for Ani DiFranco, Tori Amos, Julien Baker, Lucy Dacus, and others. They have performed two NPR Tiny Desk Concerts and been praised by the outlet to “mix pop and classical in stark, infectious ways and make unforgettable, surprising music.” Their 2025 single “WTF” earned praise from The Line of Best Fit who raved, “Gracie and Rachel Deliver Folk-Pop for the Future on “WTF,”’” and Rolling Stone which named it a “Song You Need To Know.” The most personal and daring album of their career thus far, If We Could, Would We asks important questions about potential regret and openness, ultimately concluding that the only way out is through. It also finds Gracie and Rachel sharing space again after coming to a crossroads in their personal and professional lives. After the release of their 2023 EP Nowhere Now Here, Gracie spent part of the next year working on solo material, a journey that eventually led her back to Rachel, who was working through the end of a long-term relationship. Even as their paths diverged, Gracie and Rachel always found their way back to each other. Once reunited, they pushed themselves to keep growing. Sonically, If We Could, Would We expands their instrumentation, with Rachel incorporating the guitar on record for the first time and adding in a diverse array of other instruments and textures across tracks. Meanwhile, as a piece of art, If We Could, Would We symbolizes the duo’s ebbs and poses the existential question many ponder; If they could go back and do it all over again, knowing what they do now, would they? Rachel says, “We may never know, but here we are. I still have hope and belief. I just want to keep telling the story.” Presented by Sleeping Village. This is an 21+ event