runo plum is a Minneapolis-based singer-songwriter who grew up in a small rural town in Minnesota. She began writing and sharing the songs that would become her debut EP, earlier from ‘20, after returning to her family home when the pandemic hit, alone in her childhood bedroom and inspired by the wilderness around her. While plum was building up her catalog and supporting the likes of Searows, Angel Olsen, and Hovvdy, she went through a breakup with a partner she was both romantically and creatively involved with, leading to a five-month burst of songwriting she sorted into at least two albums, the first of which, patching, is out Friday. Recorded last winter with longtime friend Lutalo and instrumentalist and plum’s girlfriend Noa Francis, this LP represents the sadness before the rage – yet the trio enriches these songs with the lush, tender detail that can get numbed out of the drab, early stages of heartbreak, letting the light in at the end. “Will the loneliness always be pending?” she wonders on ‘Gathering the Pieces’, by which point it’s already changing shape.
We caught up with runo plum for the latest edition of our Artist Spotlight series to talk about growing up in Minnesota, the heartbreak that inspired patching, the recording process, and more.
What are some of the first things that come to mind when you think about growing up in Minnesota?
The coziness of the winter and the magic around the holidays is something that I always love about Minnesota. There’s something about the first snowfall and it being timed around Christmas, when everything is decorated. The nature of Minnesota, the trees and the lakes are very beautiful. Even in Minneapolis, there’s a lot of nature there, and I’m excited to go back to that.
A lot of the natural imagery on patching seems to come from your relationship to home.
Yeah, all of the songs were written when I was still living in more of a rural part, kind of in the middle of the woods. In my studio setup, there was just nature, forest in the background. It definitely was a big part of the writing.
Were there things about it that you found yourself appreciating or missing after you moved away from that rural area?
I definitely miss my nature time. My family had a trail going through the woods, and I really enjoyed my secluded time, not having to worry about anyone. Minneapolis is very busy; it’s hard to not be around people, even if you’re not talking to them. I think there’s something about being surrounded by people that is very important for my brain, as much as it is to be secluded. But I think I’m trying to mostly just be present in the moment and be grateful for what I have in front of me. If I focus too much on anything else, then I’ll just be too sad or something, but that’s just sort of the way it is.
Do you feel like your creative brain craves more of that seclusion, or has community become just as crucial?
Community is probably more important at this point in my life. Ideally, it would be secluded as a community, in a small town somewhere. But I didn’t have enough community the past five years since COVID, but that’s sort of what I’ve been working on this year and will continue to work on as a goal of mine.
You started sharing songs around that time, half a decade ago now. What was your relationship to songwriting before then?
It was very sparse. My dad taught me how to play guitar when I was 14, maybe? And I would write occasionally, but it was never anything that serious. It was mostly just a verse, maybe a chorus. It wasn’t that serious, or I was just busy in school or working. But then COVID made me slow down and realize that I really want to make it more of a thing, my thing, and put all of my energy into it.
When you were writing these songs in their earlier stages, when did you realize you were working towards an album?
My first few EPs were very intentional. I was writing to have an EP, and after that, it just fit that way. And then this first album was more just gathering some songs rather than writing them to be in an album. I recorded demos for them all by the summer of 2024, and then in the fall I was placing them where I wanted them. I went through a breakup in the spring of 2024, and I was writing a shit ton – enough for probably three albums, but I’m gonna discard a bunch of them, because they just suck or they’re just random. I’ll probably use two albums’ worth. I have my first album, and I have enough for a second album.
Did you have a filter in the early stages of what to discard and what to keep working on? Or was it trickier because of how fresh the breakup was?
It definitely took a while to put them in their categories. I split them more into genre; this one is more folky with some rock aspects. I have another one, which will probably be the second album, which is more the rage songs, which are fuller and rockier. And then I have more acoustic singer-songwriter stuff, just me and the guitar, and those ones will probably be the ones that I don’t really do anything with. It took me several months into the fall to put them in their places.
Did the rage songs come first, or was it just the way you structured them?
Actually, the rage ones came after patching. These are the more sad ones, where I’m just really feeling the sadness of the breakup, and the second one is more like, “I’ve been sitting with this, and now I’m pissed at you” sort of thing.
You recorded the album that winter in Vermont with Lutalo and Noa Francis. What was your collaboration with Noa like before going into the studio, as you were opening up these songs together?
Noa is actually my girlfriend, and we started dating in September. We didn’t know for sure if she was gonna even be a part of it, it just happened naturally. She just happened to end up being a huge part of the album process. She was mostly there for emotional support, just being my girlfriend, but she happens to be an incredible musician and guitarist and has been in dozens of bands and toured all over the world. It was a chance sort of thing that happened to fit.
How do you remember those first attempts at playing together?
I think we were a couple songs in, and there was this one song called ‘Darkness’ that I actually wrote in her room. When I was writing it, she picked up her electric guitar and was playing these beautiful swells behind it. At first, Lutalo was trying to replicate it, and I was like, “I just need Noa here. She needs to play this with me.” [laughs] And then that went really well, and we were like, “You’re so good at this, what am I even thinking? You should be helping us.” I think part of it was just showing Lutalo what she could do, and she ended up playing pretty much every guitar and bass part. She’s just very good in a technical way, so it was very helpful and convenient.
You stayed for two weeks in the cabin where you recorded the album. What are your memories of that time, and how did the songs change shape during it?
There were a few snowfalls that were very beautiful, mountains in the background. It was very gorgeous. The equipment we had was very special; all of the main guitars that I recorded for all of the songs were recorded on this 18th-century, majorly vintage guitar. Also, I’ve known Lutalo for 10 years, and we were just hanging out, having the best time, giggling. It just was a big hang as much as it was recording and serious work. But I had never really hung out with Lutalo to that capacity, so being able to hang out with them like that was really fun and special as well.
A lot of the songs felt different from the demos when we re-recorded them. ‘Be Gentle With Me’ is a big one; Lutalo made that into something so cool. ‘Elephant’ was a completely different rhythmic thing originally, and Lutalo made it into this feel-good, nostalgic song, when I originally wrote it to be this droney, drawn-out, depressing thing. It’s so cool how the songs can change.
I love how ‘Be Gentle With Me’ expresses a need for tenderness, while also embodying sonically this “brick wall” feeling you reference.
Yeah, it just sort of happened. They were just like, “Let me see what comes to mind at first,” and it happened to be really cool. That was just their first impression of it, and it felt really authentic to them.
It’s interesting to hear how the sadness, which is how you initially categorized these songs, was transformed through the recording process. It opens in this gentle, warm place, something that ‘Lemon Garland’ frames almost in the realm of fantasy – you’re craving company, but it also sounds like you have the right one there. Did you feel the songs becoming less lonely over time?
They definitely got less lonely over time when they were recorded, and that is so cool. There’s a song called ‘The Quiet One’, where there’s drums at the end, and there’s this sense of fullness that I always imagined when I was playing it alone, but it obviously wasn’t there in the voice memo. Also, I’ve never played with a band before, and that’s going to be a whole new level of it feeling not lonely.
It feels like you’ve put some of the songs you mentioned, like ‘Darkness’ and ‘The Quiet One’, in a similar box towards the end of the album. They’re vulnerable and stripped-back in a way that feels like trusting the listener to lean into the open space of it.
It was definitely intentional to put those there. It felt like more of the resolution of it all, which was like, “I will love again, and, it’s all gonna be fine.” That’s definitely the healing part of the album.
I like how you play with light and darkness towards the end, too. You sing that “the darkness may be the voice of reason,” but it says something that you’re ending the album with ‘Angel’.
Yeah. I mean, Noa has sort of been an angel in many parts of my life, of healing, so that song is for her. It definitely feels like a very fitting ending to the album, and I was really happy that that fit there, because that was the last one I wrote as far as timeline.
I’m sure there might have been the temptation to write more songs and discard some of the older ones before going to the studio. Was there that tension in your mind?
It was definitely very organic. I wasn’t writing those songs on purpose or for any intentional reason; I was just feeling inspired by this new love, and it just happened to be around the time that we were recording the album. I think it was meant to be.
Looking back, what do you feel most proud of with this album?
My favorite of the album is ‘Sickness’. The choruses feel a lot closer to the music that I want to be putting out, in a general sense, and maybe more pointing towards the next album. But at the same time, I’m also just proud of having a good mix between the rock and the folk singer-songwriter stuff. The folky sad stuff is just as important to me.
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity and length.
