Even if you haven’t heard indie rock luminary Sarah Tudzin’s name, you’ve probably heard her work. She’s an in-demand producer, mixer, audio engineer, and, since 2018, performer under the stage name Illuminati Hotties. But her meteoric rise in the industry started three years ago.

In 2021, she released her third album, Let Me Do One More, on her own Hopeless Records imprint, to critical acclaim. Then she worked on boygenius’s the record and Weyes Blood’s Titanic Rising—arguably two of the most beautiful-sounding records of the last decade—and earlier this year, she won her first Grammy for her work with boygenius. It feels like her talent is finally on full display, and her knack for sonic perfection is clear on her fourth release, POWER, which she described as “all rippers” and “no filler.”

In August, while Tudzin was working on a project on the East Coast, The Stranger connected with her over Zoom. We talked about her emphatic new album, how early-aughts indie rock shaped her sound, Arthur Russell’s genius, and her creativity during late-stage capitalism.

I want to start with the album’s profoundly relatable opening track, “Can’t Be Still.” Does the constant need for activity help or hinder your creativity?

Probably both. I’m easily distracted or bored if something isn’t taking all my attention. I think it’s human nature to be completely enraptured at this stage of capitalism. It also makes me face pathways that could be fleeting. But, because my ears are up, looking for that kind of thing, I think it helps the creativity.

What is your songwriting process like?

I constantly write down ideas and pick up the guitar to record a quick voice memo. You have to make space in your life for creativity. If you don’t take time or set aside office hours to be available to be inspired, then it doesn’t happen. It can happen randomly, but as a working musician, songwriter, and producer, I often set aside 20 minutes to write. Whatever it takes to treat it like a job and make something. Even if it’s not the most inspired, beautiful masterpiece, you have to put the reps in.

You worked on the bulk of POWER while in Joshua Tree—why did you choose that location?

I can’t help but associate Joshua Tree with musicians like Gram Parsons and Donovan. It was a daily practice of putting ideas together and coming back to it every morning. However, Joshua Tree was big in that I spent a few days there to let the tap water run and get to the meat of the album. It allowed me to step away from my regular work, dishes, vacuuming, or whatever random things I do at home. For that reason, a lot of the album poured out of those sessions and began to hit its stride thematically. But it was the legwork leading up to that trip that most of the ideas were formulated in.

And mainly, it’s just a place where there is nothing better to do. I went out, I saw a couple of things, and I took my dog for a walk. But you walk outside and it’s 100 degrees. It’s just mountains, plants, and a flat desert. There was little room for me to find something better to do than finish making this album. It was more of a trap I created for myself than an effort to tap into cosmic psychedelia or something.

What music were you consuming while writing the album?

I was listening to indie rock bands that had a propulsion to the top of music in the 2000s. I was fascinated by Modest Mouse. They made noise records and then, all of a sudden, released a record that put them on KROQ radio for the rest of their lives. Now, they can headline any festival forever. Death Cab for Cutie, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, and the Shins are the same way. I became obsessed with this subversive culture of musicians who suddenly found themselves in extreme musical success. Their sound was interesting to me because they managed to keep a lot of authenticity while doing something that was popularly accepted. I don’t think any of them were under the thumb of a label, being told, “You better make ‘Maps.’” They were making the music that moved them. TV on the Radio especially. They were this runaway success of a band, and it’s because they’re fucking loud and awesome.

Did you take inspiration from the trajectory of those bands, or the sound of those actual records, or both?

For sure both. If you point to the album that changed those bands’ lives, you can see that they did the work to make a better album—or to make a more accessible album. It’s interesting to me from a career standpoint but also sonically. There is a perceived loudness level of those albums that’s so immediate. Think about “New Slang”—I thought about that song a lot. It has that placement in Garden State that’s bubbling below the surface.

The perceived volume of that record is loud, even though it’s quiet music played with acoustic guitars. I feel that way about old Fleet Foxes. It just feels grand in this amazing way. If someone played it for you in your living room, it wouldn’t be a loud song. But the way it’s recorded and the way it’s perceived is massive. That sound exists in a lot of that era of music.

Is there a song on the album that you had in mind as your mainstream success song?

Any of those songs could have been singles, which is always the goal when I’m making an album: all rippers, make every single song matter. There’s no filler on that album. But I don’t think anyone can predict a breakaway success like that anymore. People find out about songs all the time—songs that are like 25 years old—that get famous on TikTok and change a band’s life two decades into their music career. [Editor’s note: God bless Kate Bush.] I hope there is a lane for one of the songs to reach a mass audience, but I don’t know what it’s going to be or how it’s going to happen.

I was excited to see Death Cab for Cutie drummer Jason McGerr credited on the album—he gave me drum lessons when I was eight years old! How did you connect with him?

Wow, local legend! He’s one of my all-time favorite drummers. We toured with Death Cab a couple of times. Jason was so sweet and such a fervent supporter of mine. He was a fan first, then a friend, and then I tracked a bunch of drums and bass for POWER at Bear Creek Studio—just outside of Seattle. I sent him a text, and I was like “I’m gonna be here, any chance you want to come play on this record?” He was so excited and so sweet about it. He rolled through with a literal pickup truck bed full of drums and gear. He crushed it. It was unbelievable to watch him play.

When I heard your reference to Arthur Russell on “Sleeping In,” I immediately connected his dual career as a producer and singer-songwriter to your multi-hyphenated career in the industry. Have you considered the parallels between your career and his?

Arthur Russell is one of my all-time favorites. He is, in my mind, a capital-A Artist. He engaged in his medium and other media in such a pure form. I hope that I can attain that level of zen about music and crank it out like that. He had almost no regard for form sometimes. But then, he had troves of folk songs that couldn’t be more formulaic. I’m just so inspired by him. I can’t say that our lives look anything alike. 

Do you ever see yourself making a folk album?

Yeah, why not? All great songwriters came from having access to an instrument and a voice. Now, a lot of people create just using their computer. As a teenager, I didn’t have access to a personal laptop. I didn’t even know you could use one to make music. But I did know you could write lyrics and play guitar. For that reason, I think everyone who practices the craft of songwriting has a bit of a folk album in them.


Illuminati Hotties play Neumos Thursday, Oct 3, with Daffo and Maddie Ross. 

This story has been updated since it's original publication because omg we spelled Sarah Tudzin's name wrong. It's Tudzin. Not Trudzin. We regret the error.