Local indie artist Esmer put together the pieces of his latest single “Heather” while trying to settle into a stable place to live.
Late last year, he found himself in a rush in both aspects. He only had an hour before he would have to pack up — for the fifth time in one year — to go stay in a hotel with his dad. A tree had fallen on their house the year prior, and the two had been in and out of hotels since.
On the tail end of a short stay at home, Esmer had just realized, through the help of his friend and collaborator Dean Cruz, that something was missing from a song he’d been working on, “Heather.” After the hour was up, he wouldn’t be able to make music for a while.
“Heather” weaves together the melodic rap of Esmer’s previous hits “PORTLAND, OR” and “THEN AGAIN” with the spacy vibes of “Alone on a Tuesday” and “Good Girl.” The song has playful sound effects in the intro and transitions, a catchy eight-note guitar riff looped throughout, and gentle, heavenly vocals asking, “Do you really know me? Should you really try?”
Esmer spent his precious hour before moving to the hotel wisely, plotting the entire second half to the song in an homage to the beat switch in Frank Ocean’s “Nights.” While the first part of “Heather” uses the figure of an alluring, infuriating person as a metaphor for addiction, the second part features a new beat pattern with lyrics about Esmer’s tumultuous housing situation and the family members watching over him.
Esmer gives a shoutout to a maternal-side uncle he never met, a touring musician who played keyboards — and knew “any instrument” — in the Phillippines, China, and Korea before passing when Esmer was around 10 years old. He also mentions his mom, whose presence he feels “especially when I’m doing my music.” She passed of cancer in early 2023.
“No heat on Thanksgiving / My mom is watching over me as I pick up the pen,” Esmer sings in this second section, describing a recent Thanksgiving where he and his dad were in the house without heat, eating Popeye’s, still searching for security but feeling safe with family.
Last Tuesday, Esmer and his dad finally moved back home for what they hope is the last time. Esmer was able to use his mother’s old room, now empty, as a setting for his cover photo for “Heather.” In the picture, he rests on the floor behind a guitar, a drum cymbal, an empty notepad, and a walis, a Filipino broom. Esmer was “cleaning this up,” both the song and the stage in his life.
Esmer did it all with the help of friends. Cruz, who pushed Esmer to create the second part of the song, “has a really good ear” and “doesn’t mind being real” with him. Chris Leche, also known as Leche Guy, helped Esmer uncrowd the instrumentals in one night, telling him to sync the bass and drums with the guitar so they’d keep their own identity but match the song. Visual artists Kevin Cesar from Bridgeport and Matt Engborg from Milford helped Esmer finalize the vision, putting together cover art, BTS footage, and short videos for the song’s release.
The spoken parts overlaid near the end of “Heather” are from an old black-and-white movie. (“I forgot the name,” Esmer said, “I’m a fake fan.”) In the audio, someone is leaving a train station and asking to meet up on a Thursday — please let it be Thursday. Esmer heard it, thought, “That sounds perfect, I love yearning,” and put it in the song.
Putting out “Heather” on Sunday was a full-circle moment for Esmer. He had started the song when he was heading to the first hotel, and now he’s finally back in his house for good. Ending this last stage “felt like a fever dream,” Esmer said. But he feels like he’s finally home.
