Rainbow Kitten Surprise’s Ela Melo Breaks Down New Album Love Hate Music Box Track by Track: Exclusive

Mary Siroky
·11 min read

The post Rainbow Kitten Surprise’s Ela Melo Breaks Down New Album Love Hate Music Box Track by Track: Exclusive appeared first on Consequence.

Track by Track is our recurring feature series in which artists guide readers through each song on a release. Today, Rainbow Kitten Surprise lead vocalist Ela Melo digs into each song on the band’s lengthy new album.

It’s been quite a while since Rainbow Kitten Surprise released new music — the group’s last full-length project was 2018’s How To: Friend, Love, Freefall. You’d never know such a gap existed, though, from the sold-out crowd at Nashville’s Brooklyn Bowl on May 6th, gathering a few days ahead of the release of the band’s new album, Love Hate Music Box. “Welcome back, RKS!” was the common refrain between songs.

At 22 songs, Love Hate Music Box is a lengthy effort and the reality is that the members of RKS simply had a lot to say. “It’s kind of like a re-branding for us,” shares guitarist and vocalist Bozzy Keller.

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Ahead of the evening’s concert, lead vocalist Ela Melo sits down with Consequence to talk through each song on Love Hate Music Box, bright red lipstick lingering on her coffee cup. For her, the album comes down to the age-old balance between love and hate.

“They’re not just in our brains, or even in our emotions,” she explains. “They’re a tangible force — as tangible as gravity or electromagnetic energies. They’re real physical forces, and they run the universe.”

As fans patiently wait for fresh music from the band, Ela also makes note of the current state of online conversation — and it’s a sentiment she later echoes onstage at Brooklyn Bowl.

“I think there’s a place for all of it. If you hate it, you hate it — now let’s talk why. If you love it, you love it — let’s talk why,” she says. “The ‘why’ is way more important to me than a compliment. So regardless of what people are saying about it, what I’m saying is, ‘Thank you for listening to my music.'”

Stream Love Hate Music Box below, and read on for Ela’s Track by Track breakdown of each song on the album.

“Peter Pan”:

Our producer, Daniel Tashian, had this whiteboard, and we had all these songs. Some of them made the record, some of them didn’t, and we cleared the whiteboard. He asked me, “What’s the first song on this record, if you had to start with something? What is it?” I played the demo of “Peter Pan” with the synth opening, and I was like, “This is it to me. This is how the record starts.”

“Sickset”:

“Sickset” started off as a demo of the same name. I dug into it a few years ago, and it felt so good. I felt like, “This is the heaviness and darkness I’m experiencing on a day-to-day basis in my life.” There’s the lines, “Hell yeah/ Fuck yeah,” and the shit’s dark. I’m really happy it made the record.

I worked on it with Gabe Goodman out in LA, and the triplets were his idea. I said, “Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it. That’s fire.” He wasn’t that stoked about it at first, but we got there.

“Finalist”:

I wrote “Peter Pan,” opened another file, and wrote “Finalist.” I was ad-libbing, and this is what came out. There were other versions of “Finalist” I was playing with, but it was the pandemic era; things were dark and heavy. Is the world ending? We didn’t know.

Something as trivial as being chosen for a game show is cause for jubilation, and there’s also the flip meaning here. Maybe this is the peak in culture and civilization. Maybe this is the final era of humankind. Everything feels like a game show now, or a popularity contest.

“LOL”:

The “hello, operator” bit is an old idea that probably dates back to 2018. I wanted this song to be a bridge for the fans — “They’re doing guitar stuff, but they’re also doing synth stuff and it’s like a more poppy kind of approach.” I wanted listeners to think, “This sounds like something they’d do.” It’s just carefree.

“Lucky”:

“Lucky” was initially called “Bet.” “You’re feeling lucky? Bet, boy.” It was a quieter song, and kind of sad. Then we stumbled upon the line, “I guess we’re just lucky,” and knew that was it. That’s the hook. There’s all this darkness, but it’s kind of comedic. We’re pretty lucky to be doing this. The core of what I always hope to be doing with music is to take something that’s painful or sad and transform the pain into something that makes you move.

“Meticulous”:

I was sitting at my buddy’s house and writing on the piano. The whole record was shaping up, and I felt so lucky and thinking about how it was the right thing for the moment. But flashback — how many times have I tried to do this and it hasn’t worked? I’m not just making music, I’m trying to be the very best version of myself. How many times have I been in that moment and not been ready? So this song is about being in the right place at the right time and the journey to get there, not just the end product.

“Hot Pink Ice Cube”:

This is a fun track, and we didn’t know where it was going in the studio until we hit the post-chorus. It’s a story about trying to make the most in the midst of a grieving process.

For all of us — the planet, and RKS — it’s been a complicated five or six years. My thing is figuring out how to titrate with trauma; how to talk about it without re-traumatizing yourself. There are good ways to talk about it, and bad ways to talk about it. In my opinion, this record is like titrating out of that darker place.

“SVO”:

“SVO” was an early pandemic idea. The chorus came from the whiteboard. I had the words in my head and it was like, “All right, that’s good,” but then it took a couple more forms before it came together. I always wanted it to be a harder-hitting song, and it eventually landed on more of a trap kind of beat. There are 808s on the track. That’s never happened for us before. We went out on a limb, but it was what we needed. It was fun to make.

“Code Blue”:

I wrote that on an old Yamaha from the ’80s, the kind Prince used and a ton of records used back then. It has an ’80s vibe, and I think that’s where the Ghostbusters thing came in. “Who are you gonna call?” I knew that was the line.

We were flirting with it being a darker song or a happy song, and I think it came out somewhere in between. It’s definitely one of those songs that digs into hurt — when you’ve lost the pain that became your whole truth, who are you? Who have you become? That was my question to myself.

I wasn’t on the other side yet, when we finished that track, but now I can look back and be like in some ways, that was rock bottom. I was a ghost when I wrote it, and because of that, it’s where the album takes a turn.

“Overtime (feat. Kacey Musgraves)”:

I got into Golden Hour through a friend of ours, and then we met. She said, “We should do something,” and I was like, “I’m going to take you up on that.” What are the chances of working with Kacey Musgraves? Then it comes together and it actually happens.

“Ghoul”:

I was staying with my parents and I was in a dark place. This was right before things got really crazy in my life. There’s a throughline with “Code Blue” which mentions a ghoul as well — I got the idea from the anime Tokyo Ghoul, which is about a kid who becomes part monster and doesn’t know how to control it.

It’s scared to eat people, which is what ghouls do. It was this idea to me of not being sure if you’re a monster. You’ve got a cloud, you’ve got darkness, and you feel like you’re married to it. It feels familiar. I felt like I was in a horror movie, a little bit, so that’s what I was writing.

“John Woo”:

John Woo always uses shots of doves in his films. There’s kind of the marriage visual, and white birds are pure and gentle. This idea of being in love with somebody — we were almost making a joke of it. It was meant to be kind of a playful song, but it was raining in Nashville, and once we got the piano on it, it became a bit of a pivoting track: leaving a dark place and keeping what is hopeful from that.

“Low as We Go”:

This one was initially called “Limbo.” Everything was falling apart and felt dark, which made me think how far down we could go with the bass. Then, lyrically, it was nursery rhyme-esque, which was also as low as we could do. Rock bottom all around.

“Bearwalk”:

I tapped back into my roots with dancing, which helped the movement and lyrics come together. There was a little dance I was doing as I was making the track — I would get up and feel it out. I wanted it to sound like a club for vampires with really corny, ’80s plug-ins. The chorus line was informed by the movement. It’s from the body.

“Superstar”:

I wrote that sitting in the closet at my parent’s house. It wasn’t about the band or RKS at all, but about this relationship dynamic of, “You told me I’m a superstar. I have to have this affirmation, or I’m nobody. You’re the reason I shine.” It’s that feeling of half the time I’m second best, and half the time I’m the best. I think it takes my bipolar into account and allows you to see both sides.

“Cinderella”:

Life’s a horror show, and I’m just living it. Am I a hero? Am I a villain? Or am I just collateral? Am I just the person who runs away or am I in the opening scene where the monster eats me?

The clock ticks, and suddenly you don’t have the slippers or dress anymore. You’re just you again. What is my value beyond what I contribute to music or to the band? What is my inherent value as a human when the glow and glamour are gone and the ball is over?

“Best Man”:

This one was influenced by Taylor Swift’s “The Man.” It’s a good post to “Cinderella” because this is where I’ve caught my stride. As long as everybody else is down to clown, I’m channeling good energy and good vibes. That’s me crossing my fingers out to the universe.

“Rabbit Run”:

Rabbits are always running — they’re looking for food, looking to fuck. They call it the rabbit hole and I’m always down, running from something or another. The kicker is the chorus — who wants to be in charge? Who wants to be the star? It comes with hate and scrutiny and people build you up just to break you down. I don’t want that, but at the same time, if it’s your destiny in life, you have to trust the process.

“Daddy Yankee”:

“Daddy Yankee” is a breakup song for sure. It came together pretty fast in the studio. I wrote it in Houston, and it harkens back to two different time periods: a more recent relationship, and more of a crush or fling.

When I was a kid, I used to be called Daddy Yankee, because I’m lighter skinned. I’m still looking for the best light to paint some really complicated shit. We sift through love and loss and sometimes things just don’t work out. I did all I could and still survived.

“Re-entry”:

This was the first thing I wrote after the pandemic, when re-entry into society started. We still didn’t know when we were going to play shows, and that uncertainty bleeds through. If you’re on the shore, put your feet in. Even when I’m not sure what’s going to happen, I’ve learned to enjoy the little things in the process, and I’m grateful for that.

“No Occasion”:

I think this is probably the sweetest track on the record. It has this side-swaying, middle school dance kind of feel. When I wrote it, I was on the other side of things. “There’s so many people, maybe you could save me.” But that’s not possible — no one else can pull you out of whatever you’re experiencing. You just have to live through it.

“Thanks for Coming:”

This was first written as a pitch song with Gnash, out in LA. It wasn’t written even for RKS at first, let alone as the closer for the album, but when it came together, it started to feel like it sums up the record. It’s that idea of things aren’t easy, but we have everything we need. I think we made a good track.

Rainbow Kitten Surprise’s Ela Melo Breaks Down New Album Love Hate Music Box Track by Track: Exclusive
Mary Siroky

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