Honestly, I still remember exactly where I was the first time I heard the snare crack on "Your Love Is Killing Me." I was sitting in a parked car, probably avoiding a grocery run, and by the time Sharon Van Etten screamed about breaking her own legs just so she wouldn't walk back to someone, I felt like I’d been through a physical brawl.
That’s the thing about Sharon Van Etten Are We There. It isn't just a record. It is an emotional sinkhole. Released in May 2014, it arrived at a point where Sharon was shifting from the "indie-darling-with-a-harmonium" vibe of her early work into something much more predatory and powerful. It’s her fourth album, but for many of us, it’s the definitive one.
The title itself is a bit of a trick. There is no question mark. It isn't a query; it’s a state of being. Are we there. We are in the transition. We are in the middle of the mess.
The Myth of the "Demo" Takes
One of the coolest bits of lore about this album—and something that explains why it feels so intimate—is how it was actually recorded. Sharon went into the studio with Stewart Lerman, a guy who has won Grammys for working on things like Boardwalk Empire. She thought they were just doing pre-production.
Basically, she was just laying down sketches. She did two versions of every track: one with a full band and one where she played every single instrument herself. She was loose. She wasn't overthinking it because, in her head, these weren't the "final" versions.
But Lerman was smarter than that. He was secretly rolling on everything. He caught that raw, unpolished energy you only get when an artist thinks no one is looking yet. About half the record you hear is actually just Sharon playing everything alone in a room. That’s why "I Know" sounds like she’s whispering directly into your ear while her fingers fumble slightly on the piano keys. It’s real. It’s human.
That "Shit in Your Bathroom" Line
You can't talk about Sharon Van Etten Are We There without talking about the closer, "Every Time the Sun Comes Up." It is easily the most famous song on the record, mostly because of that one lyric: "I washed your dishes, then I shit in your bathroom." People obsessed over that line. Some people hated it—thought it was too "crass" for such a serious artist. But man, they missed the point. After 45 minutes of literal blood-letting and songs about emotional exorcism, that line is a release valve. It’s Sharon saying, "Yeah, I’m a mess, I’m a person, and I can still laugh at how ridiculous this all is."
It was recorded during a late-night session where she was clearly exhausted and a little delirious. You can even hear her giggling at the very end of the track. It’s the perfect palette cleanser after the intensity of the rest of the album.
The Emotional Architecture of a Breakdown
Musically, the album is a massive leap forward from Tramp. While Tramp was great, it felt very "produced" by Aaron Dessner of The National (who is awesome, don't get me wrong). But on Are We There, Sharon took the reins as a producer herself.
She brought in some heavy hitters, though:
- Mackenzie Scott (TORRES) on backing vocals.
- Adam Granduciel (The War on Drugs).
- Jonathan Meiburg (Shearwater).
- Heather Woods Broderick, whose harmonies are basically the secret sauce of this entire era of Sharon’s career.
The songs range from these slow-burning, Rhodes-heavy soul tracks to "Your Love Is Killing Me," which sounds like a literal war march. The drums on that track? They aren't just keeping time. They are punching you.
Why the Critics Went Nuts
Google "Sharon Van Etten Are We There reviews" and you’ll see a sea of 8.0s and 9.0s. Pitchfork, Rolling Stone, NME—everyone basically agreed this was her masterpiece. It ended up as the fifth most critically acclaimed album of 2014.
But why?
It's because it deals with the "mundane" parts of a breakup. It’s not about the big, cinematic door-slamming moments. It’s about the "quiet condescension" and the "cold shoulders." It’s about the middle of the end, where you’re still trying to figure out if you’re actually "there" yet.
The album cover—Sharon sticking her head out of a car window, screaming into the wind—is the perfect visual. It’s that feeling of needing air when the relationship has sucked it all out of the room. It’s also a photo she took of her friend right before they both moved to different cities to start new lives. Transitions. Movement. Pain.
Actionable Insights for the Modern Listener
If you’re just discovering this record or revisiting it after a decade, here is how to actually digest it:
- Listen with headphones first. This is a "headphones record." There are so many tiny layers of organs and weird electronic textures (like on "Our Love") that you’ll miss on a phone speaker.
- Watch the KEXP live version of "Tarifa." If you think the studio version is good, the live version will absolutely wreck you. Her voice does things that shouldn't be possible.
- Read the lyrics to "Afraid of Nothing" while listening. It’s the opening track and sets the stage for the "fear vs. courage" theme that runs through the whole 48 minutes.
- Don't skip "I Know." It’s a quiet piano ballad toward the end that most people overlook, but it’s arguably her best vocal performance ever.
Sharon Van Etten has gone on to do bigger things—she’s been in The OA, she’s played Twin Peaks, and her later albums like Remind Me Tomorrow went full synth-pop. But Sharon Van Etten Are We There remains the emotional North Star of her catalog. It’s the record that proved she wasn't just a folk singer; she was a force of nature.
If you want to understand why indie rock felt so vital in the mid-2010s, start here. Just maybe don't listen to it right after a breakup unless you’re prepared to cry in your car for an hour.
To dig deeper into this era, you can check out her 10th-anniversary deluxe reissues or track down the Are We There documentary shorts she released around the recording sessions at Electric Lady Studios.