Illuminati Hotties: The goal is good art

A conversation with the musician and record producer

Welcome to Human Pursuits, the column that features need-to-know names and stories in media and other creative spaces. Today, a conversation with musician Illuminati Hotties.

Sarah Tudzin is no stranger to wonderful noise.

As the creative force behind the band Illuminati Hotties, she’s carved a niche for herself writing energetic chunes about young adult life. Pool hopping, casual longing, feeling like a letdown.

To me, the songs often sound like her hometown of Los Angeles. Quirky and full of sunshine. But while she’s a self-proclaimed “noise gremlin,” Tudzin’s recent output has seen a bit of a shift. The angular riffs and odd time signatures of Let Me Do One More and Free I.H: This Is Not the One You've Been Waiting For have been swapped for something gentler and more reserved.

2024’s POWER found Tudzin utilizing a different sonic palette to great effect. This year she’s taken her sound one step further with single ‘777’, an anthemic burst of rock and roll that pulls more than a little from shoegaze.

When she’s not releasing her own material, Sarah is producing and engineering for an illustrious cast of indie musicians, including Pursuits pals Eliza McLamb, PUP, and Cloud Nothings, as well as boygenius, Pom Pom Squad, Kississippi, and more.

And so we had much to discuss.

Our edited and condensed conversation touched on her recent trip to North Carolina, what makes a good guitar solo, life as L.A. truther, sleeping through most movies, the challenges with naming yourself after a conspiracy theory, and more.

Sarah Tudzin.

ES: You were just in North Carolina recording with

eliza mclamb

– how was it?

ST: Awesome. I hadn’t spent that much time in Asheville before, but I loved it. We were recording at Drop of Sun Studios, which was amazing.

ES: What’s the story behind Drop of Sun? Any good records come out of there?

ST: There have been quite a few. Asheville has always had a cool scene. Archers of Loaf. Animal Collective was in and out of there. Alex Farrar and Adam McDaniel own the studio, and they’re both talented producers. They just did the MJ Lenderman album there, they did that Annie DiRusso album, which I’ve been loving… Also, Eliza is from the Raleigh-Durham-Chapel Hill area.

ES: I was gonna say, she’s bringing it all back home.

ST: Exactly. Her touring drummer also happens to be an engineer at Drop of Sun, so it’s an easy way to approach things. Go home, spend some time out there making music.

ES: Does IH do well in North Carolina? Is it a big draw for you? Laughs.

ST: Our crowds are a normal size there. Laughs. We usually play at Motorco Music Hall. It’s always a good show, we have a good turnout.

ES: I saw on Eliza’s story that you had a night where everyone threw down a guitar solo. What makes a good guitar solo in your opinion?

ST: A good guitar solo is singable. I always feel like people want to hear a solo that they can air guitar back to you.

The night in question, we were throwing paint at the wall. It was the end of the session, and so we had this big, noisy moment that we wanted everyone to take a swing at. It didn’t even need to be a guitar solo with notes, so much as a moment of feedback and noise.

ES: That sounds extremely cathartic.

ST: It was really fun. It had a real end-of-session craziness to it.

ES: How would you describe your approach to making records – does it vary from artist to artist, or are there methods you deploy regardless of who’s in the room?

ST: It’s different for each artist, and it usually depends on how much they want to be a part of the production. Some artists are almost painterly with it, they’re chasing a feeling. Others want to be picking microphones or making detailed engineering choices.

The main thing I try to bring from session to session is my sense of objectivity and taste. I try to have a listening ear and an open heart to what an artist is trying to accomplish.

ES: Is it hard to foster that sense of objectivity, though? I think of the fact that you and Eliza are friends outside the studio, for instance. Does that make it harder to give feedback? Easier?

ST: With regards to friendship, I don’t feel like it’s that complicated. Eliza and I met each other while working. We became pretty close after the few sessions we initially had together. But the goal is good art. When you’re being creative, you need an outside ear to say, “Okay, this is how we’re going to make something happen,” or “Is that actually what you want to say? Because it’s coming across like that.” Mainly, it’s just about trusting my taste and being decisive about what I think the artist wants, and trying to hear their work the way the audience might.

ES: And I assume you still love coming home to Los Angeles?

ST: Yeah, I love L.A.! I grew up here and have lived here most of my life. I’m an L.A. truther. I feel like a lot of people are here for work, or one reason or another. Every big city has complications, but every time I come back, I’m like, “Wow, L.A. is one of the best cities in the country.”

We’re so lucky to be surrounded by people who are open-minded and art-friendly, and there’s nature, and a wide variety of things to do all the time. There is tons of great food. I really love this city, and I think I’ve only come to love it more the longer I’ve lived here.

ES: What part of Los Angeles did you grow up in?

ST: I grew up in the valley. Woodland Hills area. I live in Boyle Heights right now, which is pretty close to downtown and East L.A. I’ve lived in a few different spots all over town, but I’ve settled in the Eastside.

ES: What were you like in high school?

ST: The valley is so sprawling, and it’s so hot, and I remember as a kid thinking, “I will never live here.” It’s like something out of a movie. All the caricatures you see in Clueless or Dazed and Confused are real.

I love it a lot more now. I appreciate going back to visit my dad. It’s a lot of wide streets and hills. There’s a lot of nature, mixed with this weird psychedelic skate culture that’s left over from the seventies. A lot of the homes out there are on former farm properties. They’re zoned to have horses, or pigs, or chickens, or whatever. But you’re still in the suburbs.

To answer your questions: I didn’t necessarily fit in at high school. I wanted to leave and do other stuff. A lot of people feel that way, I think. But I realize now that I had access to so much more stuff. It was easy to go to shows and to get involved with DIY stuff. I was exposed to culture in a way that probably would’ve been harder if I lived in a smaller town.

Sarah Tudzin.

ES: Where did you want to go exactly? Or did anywhere seem better than the valley at that point?

ST: I didn’t have a place in mind. It’s not like I was dreaming about going to New York or Nashville. I was just over the vibe. I did go to school in Boston after I graduated, and that was fun. On some level, I think I knew that I would come back to L.A.

ES: Are you a movie chica at all? Is that a source of inspiration for you?

ST: I love most artistic mediums, to be honest. I have so much respect for anyone willing to put effort into their craft and their passion.

That said, I famously struggle to stay awake watching movies. They put me to sleep instantly, no matter how great they are. The second the TV is on, my brain says “You’re done” and everything shuts off. But I do love movies. I love a long format medium like that, and there’s so much to explore when you’re dealing with visuals and sound and storytelling.

ES: Do you only fall asleep in movies? Or is TV a struggle too?

ST: I don’t know what it is. If I can quiet my brain enough to focus on one thing, that’s when my brain decides to sleep.

ES: Your body sees an opportunity to relax and pounces on it.

ST: Yeah. I’ve been a little better about it lately. I stayed awake for Wicked. That was a long movie.

ES: The best part is there’s a sequel coming, so you get to do it all again.

ES: I should congratulate you on ‘777’ by the way. What a song.

I feel like you’re at an interesting juncture in your career. Some of the songs sound different from your old material.

ST: Thanks. Part of the blessing with Illuminati Hotties is that it’s allowed me to do whatever I want, but it’s also become a bit of a curse because, I think, the general public sometimes needs more obvious branding around the music. I’ve been dreaming about a few different ways that the project can go, or what could come next.

That ability to try anything has been a cornerstone of the band. It’s all still filtered through this slightly funky rock lens, but I’m reaching a point where I think that there needs to be a little more delineation. In the case of ‘777’, I wrote a little chorus and took it to my friend Melina from Jay Som, and we made what felt good.

ES: Are you into numerology? Or am I reading too much into things?

ST: I don’t know that much about it, but I love seeing patterns in things. I like it when the date looks cool. Laughs.

ES: There’s something fun about referencing these sorts of occult-y ideas, whether it’s in songs, or the name of the band, but actually knowing very little about them.

ST: Laughs. The name is so unserious. I feel like being serious or weird about it would undermine the whole idea. I like to play with the mystery, but I’ve never gone full tilt. I’ve actually had to back off a little bit.

ES: I was going to ask, do you encounter many people who don’t get the joke?

ST: Definitely. I’ve also had to change my Instagram handle because I was essentially shadow-banned for using the word “illuminati”. I couldn’t figure out how to fix it. I was desperately trying to go through these behind-the-scenes channels with them, and I finally got in touch with a Meta securities person. We learned there’s a filter on “illuminati” and there’s no way to override it.

ES: Really?

ST: Yeah. I was like, “Can we tell the filter that I’m a band?” She said “No, there’s one un-overrideable filter to protect people from getting sucked into QAnon, or weird stuff.” So I had to change my handle.

ES: This is a real case of “When bits go bad”.

ST: For that reason, Illuminati Hotties has been a bit of a tricky name. People either love it or hate it. It’s certainly opened doors for me, but at times it’s also made things more complicated.

Sarah Tudzin by Lissyelle Laricchia.

ES: Circling back on producing – there’s so much mythology around producers, but also their spaces. You mentioned Drop of Sun, but how do you feel about the idea of the producer compound? Is that something you’d like? Have you been to any good compounds?

ST: Part of producing is allowing the artist to have a space that can easily sound good. The space you're in is one of your tools. Drop of Sun has worked hard to build a great sounding live room, for example, and you hear it on the records. After tracking this thing with Eliza, I can go back and listen to other records made there, and I can hear the room, you know? I’d love to be able to have a space like that.

When I worked with boygenius, they were at [Rick Rubin’s] Shangri-La in Malibu. That is a dream location, obviously. You're looking at the Pacific Ocean. It's steps from the beach. It could not be more idyllic.

I’ve been lucky to work in a few spaces like that. I went up to Bear Creek in Washington. It’s out in the forest, and there’s a little river and tree houses. Amazing vibe. Also, Sonic Ranch in Texas. It has this sprawling desert, spooky ghost town vibe.

I’d be happy to have any space at this point. Laughs. Anywhere that would allow people to make noise and have fun. I hope I can do that in Los Angeles or near here. It feels far away financially, but who knows? Music is crazy. It could all change.

ES: It only takes one hit.

ST: I think it takes a couple of hits now, but I definitely know people who have had life-changing songs come out.

ES: Last question. You famously have a song about ‘Joni: LA’s No. 1 Health Goth’. I love that title because it zeroes in on a very specific type of person. What L.A. characters are sticking out to you in 2025?

ST: Like the rest of America, there’s been a bit of a country music renaissance here. There’s a lot of line dancing, and a two-step culture. With that, my friends and I have identified this phenomenon we call the Silver Lake cowboy. They’re someone who's probably wearing workwear, or a cowboy hat. Boots. But none of their clothes have ever touched dirt, you know? Everything is immaculate. It’s a little like a dressed-up cowboy. It’s a character that’s been in L.A. for a while, but it’s quite popular at the moment.

---

Sarah Tudzin is a musician and record producer. She lives in Los Angeles.