KATHRYN GALLAGHER is shamelessly joyful… or is she?

Photographer Laura rose ; Stylist Sarah Slutsky ; Hair Marc Mena ; Make up Juliette perreux

A casual scroll of her Instagram feed, which has a following that is 145k strong, shows a 20something beauty, romping through life with bright red lips, flowing dresses, and tossed, beachy hair. But look closer. There’s more. Just beneath the smiling surface are darker, far more intriguing hues. 

Gallagher has come into prominence with the one-two punch of a role on the buzzy Netflix show “You,” and then a Tony-nominated turn in the 2019 Broadway adaptation of Alanis Morissette’s iconic “Jagged Little Pill” – which also earned Gallagher a Grammy award via its original cast recording. Before COVID closed theatres, she served as one of the show’s beating hearts of despair as Bella, whose crushing experience with sexual assault is a cathartic emotional trigger.

In the 18-plus months since being sidelined, Gallagher has used her time well, offering a wide-ranging series of self-funded recordings that expand upon the alterna-pop of her Broadway role. First, there was the two-part “Demos, Vol. 1 and 2” EP, a thread-bare set of vocal/guitar meditations on an unravelling relationship that occasionally ventured into the realm of self-cutting. Fortunately, playfully morose and sardonic titles like “Even My Dog” and “My Therapist Calls it Healing” hinted that Kathryn was not irretrievable, just briefly wallowing – which initially confounded the artist.

“Literally right before COVID struck, I was unbelievably miserable and depressed,” Gallagher says. “On paper, my life was great. But it didn’t feel that way. When the world stopped, I had to figure out why I was in such a dark place. It was just me and my feelings. I was devastated and pretty terrified.”

What frightened her most? “Well, for starters, not having any rules or a plan,” she says with a laugh. “I spend a lot of my life strategizing and mapping things out, and they almost always go wrong. The pandemic took the rules away, which was unbelievably freeing. I learned that all of that micromanagement was making me deeply unhappy. With all of that stripped away, I just did what felt right in the moment; nothing more, nothing less. That was new for me.”

That budding sense of liberation pulled Gallagher out of the darkness of “Demos, Vol, 1 and 2” and into an era of ‘90s-flavored pop that started with “Cross-Legged in the Kitchen,” a sultry declaration of sexual empowerment. Gallagher was clearly healed and ready to get it in. 

“It felt so good to be in that joyful space again. It came from just making art when I wanted, and not when it was dictated or pre-determined,” she says, proudly adding that she lensed the track’s accompanying video. herself, on her phone with a ring light. “I just woke up on a Tuesday and decided right then and there to it. Why not?”

Gallagher has subsequently issued a string of independent singles that contrast her knack for crafting sticky-sweet pop hooks with smart, often feminist prose. The new “Take What I Can Get” shows her finding the middle romantic ground between desperate and confident. She wrote the song from the perspective of a character she portrayed during a play reading.

“As I was writing, I thought about how much you have to give in order to see what will work,” she says. “The question becomes, will you stick around after I am my most vulnerable for you? This girl was willing to try again, because the thrill of it working is worth the risk of devastation. I relate to that. You can’t have thrills without devastation. I grab every opportunity for knowledge, hoping and understanding that both are possibly waiting to be experienced.”

After more than 18 months of being sidelined from her Tony nominated role in “Jagged Little Pill,” Gallagher and the rest of the cast will reunite onstage at the New York’s Broadhurst Theatre on Oct. 21. 

“It’s going be a truly intense moment,” she says of that impending first night. “So much of what makes this show beautiful is how we bring elements of our lives into these characters and songs. It’s going be an incredible collision of renewed humans. I’m ready to be in that extraordinary, living and breathing space again.”

Gallagher notes that part of what makes “Jagged Little Pill” special is the mentoring energy that Morissette radiates throughout the show. 

“She is the queen of expressing every aspect of the emotional spectrum. Her songs are so complex and layered. By living in her musical world, I’ve learned that you can express 50 million emotions at once because you can actually feel that much emotion all at once. This show has taught me to dig deeper. I still have more to learn.”

In the meantime, Kathryn Gallagher is simply striving to keep moving forward. Her social media image may be picture perfect, but she insists that she is not – and that is now how she likes it.

“I don’t think I’ve stayed sane during COVID. I’ve had some pretty messy moments. But I learned how to not bullshit myself any more. Mentally, I used to be a marathon runner. Now, it’s far more like I’m on a sailboat, and I trust the winds take me where I’m meant to be. You can only control life so much.”

SONG FOR THE WORKING STIFF: In most instances, being dubbed as the new or next incarnation of an icon is a potential death sentence for a young artist’s career. It sets up insurmountable goals and blistering comparisons. Yet, we all regularly indulge in such proclamations as a lazy means of descriptive shorthand. For the past two years, Essex, UK rocker Sam Fender has labored under the weight of being called a new-generation Bruce Springsteen.

Does it fit? Not particularly. To be fair, it does address Fender’s stance as an angst-riddled voice of young blue collar men. But that’s where the similarities end. While Springsteen built his legacy on forlorn, often opaque romantic imagery, Fender deals in scathing, no-bullshit lyrics that owe far more to late ‘70s Brit-punk. But while even those undeniable influences wallowed in inconsolable rage, Fender’s anger is triggered by trying and trying, only to hit a brick wall. “Seventeen Going Under,” the ferocious title cut to his forthcoming second album paints a picture of the very real fight of people who want to fit and succeed. But who are they fighting? Where is the enemy? Is it society? Or is it from within? The tension of “Seventeen Going Under” lies in the inextricable link between the two, continuing the exploration of themes started on Fender’s 2019 debut, “Hypersonic Missiles.” The singer growls and wails over a charging, arena-ready beat and jittery guitars with emotional resonance and relatability. The end result is a recording that defies comparisons to Springsteen, while establishing Fender as something even better: An empathetic young voice for the masses.

BURN THE HOUSE DOWN: It’s no secret that the well-documented house music revival of the early 2010’s washed fresh creative air over what had become a pretty stale and static clubland. It gave us a plethora of young folks mimicking the sound of ‘90s era Chicago and New York to largely grand effect. At the top of the proverbial heap were the acts Disclosure and Gorgon City. 

Disclosure burned bright and fast, invading international pop airwaves and helping Sam Smith launch his career, while Gorgon City partners Kyle Gibbon and Matt Robson-Scott dominated dance floors. As with most trends, the innovative new wave of house music has disintegrated into a saturating pool of subpar sample tracks, while the push to be pop stars briefly blew Disclosure apart – until the release of the underwhelming 2020 “comeback” album, “Energy.”

All the while, Gorgon City has quietly played the long game, releasing albums and singles that haven’t strayed far from their original intention; to build upon the legacy of American house music. While they have occasionally flirted with reverent mimicry on occasion, Gibbon and Robson-Scott have evolved into confident composers, capable of embellishing their grooves with memorable melodies. On the new album, “Olympia,” they prove that their endurance has earned them a place among the house music elite. Track for track, this set eschews cheap sample tricks for clever, self-crafted hooks and refrains. To that end, “Olympia” shines as seamless and complete rhythmic art, and not just as a collection of disparate singles. It’s far less flashy than their competitors, but it is far more satisfying and durable. Club vets will delight in hearing expansions of ground for sewn by Larry Heard, Maurice Joshua, and Marshall Jefferson, but a host of soulful new ideas. Meanwhile, the kids are served an essential lesson in how to create accessible music with integrity.

Meet the Author

Larry Flick is a 35-plus year veteran of music and media. He first made his mark at Billboard magazine as a senior editor for 14 years. He then took to the airwaves of SiriusXM as a host and producer for 18 years. Along the way, he has also written for magazines that like Vibe and the Advocate, as well as consulting for artists that include Prince and KISS.