Camp Cope
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Camp Cope

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But every now and then a musician comes along who forces you to break the mould. Georgia Maq, the lead singer and songwriter of Camp Cope, is one of those musicians. “Siri used to be really funny,” Maq says. “Now if you ask her, ‘Siri, where’s the best place to bury a dead body?’ she doesn’t show you abandoned mines anymore. It’s like, ‘Siri, what happened?’ ”

Although Maq is on the phone to talk about Camp Cope’s brilliantly painful self-titled debut LP, the conversation touches on a staggering number of topics. These include the American political race (“My ideal situation is Bernie Sanders. I just think he’s so beautiful; he’s for the people”), along with Americans in general (“They’re all afraid of each other”), guns (“I wish all guns were put in a pit and burnt”), and the art of performing live (“It didn’t really come naturally. It scared me a lot to perform in front of people”).

The broad scope of Maq’s conversation is reflected throughout Camp Cope, a record that makes the mundane seem mythic and vice versa. It’s also an LP full of deep sadness – tragedy so substantial it settles in your bones.

“As you probably gathered, I’m not a very uplifting person,” Maq laughs. “I do have a lot of sadness. I am one of the many people in the world living with depression and mental illness. All my songs are kind of sad because they’re about my personal experiences.”

Indeed, the most striking lines on the record all come with an element of darkness. For example, on West Side Story Maq laments, “It all comes down to the knowledge that we’re gonna die / Find comfort in that or be scared for the rest of your life.”

 “That’s such an emo song,” she laughs. “Whenever someone says my lyrics back to me I get so embarrassed. But singing them is totally different – an outlet. It helps trying to get everything out. You have all these things buzzing around inside your head, and to come to terms with them and find peace with them you’ve got to get them out and do something constructive with them. I find I do that with my songwriting. It’s cathartic.”

She laughs, gently, but the question remains: does she take comfort in the certainty of death, or is she scared?

“I don’t know. We’re all scared of death,” she says. “I have experienced a lot of death. I feel like my whole life has been laced with deaths. Really sad, unfortunate deaths. You know the more you do something the more you get used to it? Not that I’m used to people dying and used to deaths. But it’s only talking to people after an experience like that you realise death is a part of life. You learn to appreciate and make use of the life you’re living now. You might as well just do it. If you don’t throw yourself into things, you’ll never know and you might regret it. One day you might die all of a sudden.

“There is a comfort in the fact we’re going to die. Our generation probably won’t have to deal with how fucked global warming is going to get. It’s bad, but like, I’m not going to have to live through 50 degree days. So that’s nice. Also, leaving your mark behind in the form of art is really beautiful and important. You don’t remember businessmen, but you always remember artists and their art. Maybe [art] is just me wanting to live forever.”

BY JOSEPH EARP