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Apr 28, 2025 Web Exclusive By Andy Von Pip Photography by Sarah Ritter and Graham Tolbert

Acclaimed indie artist Samia Finnerty (who releases music simply under her first name) found an unusual creative guiding light in the quiet spaces between presence and absence. Her latest album, the spellbinding Bloodless, explores how what’s missing can take on an outsized presence in our minds.

“I had a real true North Star on this one,” Finnerty explains. “I felt really inspired by a concept, which hasn’t really happened in my writing before. It made it much easier to know what fitted and what didn’t.”

Unlike her previous works, Bloodless emerged as a fully formed vision. “I think this time I could see the map of the whole thing, and how what I was writing would fit into that in sequence. That’s been the biggest difference about the writing process on this one.”

The inspiration for “Bovine Excision,” a track referencing the album’s title, traces back to a chance conversation a few years ago. “On a date, this guy told me, ‘You’re my dream girl.’ Then he started talking about this cattle mutilation, bovine excision thing,” she recalls, referring to the mysterious cattle deaths that emerged in the U.S. in the 1970s. These incidents involved cattle found with unexplained, surgical-like cuts, often drained of blood, sparking widespread speculation about their origins.

The eerie emptiness of these bloodless crime scenes, paired with the hollowing effect of being idealized as a “dream girl”—something being stripped of its essence—became a eureka moment for Finnerty. “I’d been trying to fit cattle mutilation into something forever. This time, it clicked. I was thinking a lot about absence, how when something’s missing, it takes on a greater presence in your mind. The literal lack of blood at a crime scene became a potent symbol for that.”

Bloodless is an album that brims with poetry, striking a balance between intimacy and expansiveness, while Finnerty subtly crafts an elusive mythology of her own. “I’m glad you got the mythology angle,” she enthuses. “Because it’s really so much about mythology, about being mythologized and mythologizing yourself on purpose. I wanted it to feel a little elusive, and I already write pretty elliptically, so that was easy to do. I was also kind of making fun of myself for doing that too.”

Religious imagery emerges throughout the album in unexpected ways, despite Finnerty not being aligned with any organized faith. “I’ve always been interested in theology. I’m probably what some would call a seeker,” she reflects. “I’m fascinated by God, and the impact the concept of God has on people’s lives. You have to provide so much euphoria and influence to inspire people to make the huge sacrifices they do for God. So I’ve always wondered, ‘Why is that?’ I didn’t grow up with it, but I read a lot about religion, and it just comes through in my writing, for better or worse. It’s become a metaphor for so many other things too.”

“Spine Oil” is another standout track, weaving religious imagery with personal angst. “That one’s pretty angry,” she admits. “At the time, I was reading about Christianity, and then, when I was dealing with actual Christians, I found a dissonance between what I was reading and how the Christians I knew were behaving. I guess I felt a little resentful, like I didn’t fit into that world, and I had to accept that I never would.” She pauses before adding, “I had also just watched Into the Wild, the Sean Penn-directed movie, and it just really annoyed me. I kept thinking, ‘Why did you leave everyone in your life? To prove what?’ And everyone around me was saying, ‘This is the best movie ever.’ I didn’t really get it—I was being bratty about it, and there was definitely some feminine rage in there.”

Throughout Bloodless, Finnerty delves into the nature of identity. While not explicitly about social media, the album resonates with the fractured sense of self in the digital age, where platforms like Instagram and TikTok blur the lines between authenticity and a carefully crafted persona.

“I think social media can be a great thing,” she explains. “It gives people a chance to be seen and heard—you don’t necessarily need money or connections to make it happen. I’m glad it exists for that reason alone. But beyond that, it feels impossible, like this insurmountable thing for me and so many artists I know. I try to see it as a direct line of communication, the way live shows create real exchanges with people face-to-face. I try to reframe social media to feel more like that.”

Expanding on the album’s exploration of identity, Finnerty adds, “Generally, I started to notice that the less I revealed about myself, the more others would project onto me—dream girl, worst nightmare, anything. It’s frustrating but also strangely powerful. I wanted to be honest about that tension, feeling rage but also recognizing the power in being undefined, in disappearing into possibility.”

Finnerty currently lives in Minneapolis after spending time in New York and Los Angeles, with each move naturally shaping her creativity. “Yeah, I’m super influenced by where I live, and the people in my community,” she says. “I’ve always been quick to absorb artistic influences. Minneapolis was tough at first, but I’m learning to love it. The art here is incredible, and the music scene has always inspired me—it’s historically important. It feels cool to be part of that. And the cold definitely does something for creativity,” she adds, laughing. “It makes you have to earn your joy.”

On Bloodless, Finnerty reunites with longtime collaborators Caleb Wright and Jake Luppen, alongside frequent songwriting partners Christian Lee Hutson and Raffaella. There’s a natural creative spark that comes from working with trusted allies. “I’m shy, so it’s hard for me to form those kinds of connections with people,” she admits. “But I really have that with them, and I truly trust their taste. And I love the music they make themselves.”

She speaks warmly about her collaborators’ own projects, including the band Baby Boys and Caleb Wright’s Twin Cities staple, The Happy Children. “I’ve loved their work forever,” she explains. “They know me really well. I feel like I can open up to them, and they can give me real criticism and feedback. It’s such a great relationship.”

Now three albums in, Finnerty’s songwriting has become more refined, shaped by her understanding of what works for her and what to leave behind. “It’s hard—once you’re done with something, you don’t want to be disparaging,” she reflects. “I’ve been trying to see it all as necessary steps.”

At the start of her career, Finnerty shaped songs from poems, meticulously fitting them into melodies in what she describes as a “Tetris-like” process. Her previous album, 2023’s acclaimed Honey, marked a deliberate departure. “I did a really fun exercise, trying to be as direct as possible,” she recalls. “From a writing perspective, it was a cool experience.” But ultimately, her instincts pulled her elsewhere. “I love writing like Rumpelstiltskin, creating riddles. That feels right to me.”

With Bloodless, she wanted to inject more energy and move away from the minimalism of her previous work. “I was listening to a lot of Lucinda Williams, so there’s definitely some Americana influence. And, of course, Fiona Apple—I’m always listening to Fiona Apple,” she laughs. “The songs on Honey were pretty slow and minimal, and I missed drums. I missed a little bit of energy. I was thinking about the live shows and thought, ‘We gotta turn this up a little bit.’”

Finnerty has also found a unique way of revisiting her earlier work with The Baby and Honey Reimagined, where she enlisted friends like Blondshell, Bartees Strange, and Maya Hawke to record their own versions of her songs. “I feel it’s cheating that I get to force my friends to sing my songs. But it’s also a really cool way to hear them without judging yourself. You hear them as songs.”

She laughs at the thought of hearing one of her reimagined tracks on the radio and momentarily forgetting she wrote it. “You can take the ego out of it,” she says. “I’ll probably do it on every record forever now, because it’s become a really fun part of the process.”

www.samiaband.com

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