Glenham says that while the little lamp isn’t exactly her taste in decor, it’s a piece of her history that has become a part of the room. “You know, it’s too ugly to be at home, but I love what it does for this space,” she laughs. 

For Glenham, having the right kind of lighting is important for her creative process. When going to the jam space to write, she first makes sure that all of her favourite lights are turned on. Twinkly fairy lights frame the hallway, with a stained glass light fixture hanging overhead as you walk in the front entrance. 

Speaking with RANGE from her jam space, she is surrounded by lava lamps that illuminate her face. From where she’s sitting she can look through a window into the live rehearsal space, where a big skylight floods the room with natural light. “I hate white light, I hate overhead lighting,” Glenham exclaims. “There’s a time and place for that kind of precision; if you’re doing surgery, sure. 

“Yes, I’m doing emotional surgery but dim lighting works fine for that,” she laughs. 

Glenham spent a lot of time in this very space producing her new EP, Still Here, which arrives April 24. There, she found a creative flow, writing the lyrics and melodies for two songs from the EP in quick succession. For her, this was a sign to start putting a bigger project together. As a very visual person, she explains that when she does have time to sit down and write, the mood and atmosphere of her surroundings play an important part. 

“I write a lot in the middle of my bed, door closed, just working through stuff,” she says. “And then here in the live room too, I find it’s pretty inspiring.” 

The jam space, which is aptly named Big Dream, is filled with lots of colour and textures. The live rehearsal portion is the brightest of them all, with blonde wood baseboards and two large paintings above a drum kit. The paintings, done by musician Hasan Li, depict a pegasus soaring over brilliant blue waves, a vibrant yellow and orange sunset in the background. Almost every corner is home to some kind of foliage, with several pieces of moss art adorning the bathroom walls. These were made by Glenham’s guitarist, who is also her romantic partner and the lease holder for the space, who she describes as a kind of “forest wizard.”

For Glenham and her partner, who live in a one-bedroom apartment with their 100-pound dog, sometimes the location offers some headspace. “I’ll come here and do non-music work, it’s just a nice place to be,” she says. “I don’t have a desk at home, and there’s room here to put things in different places and have some creative liberty.” 

The soothing, mystical vibe of the jam space seems like a fitting birthplace for the dreamy guitars and glimmering synths on Glenham’s new EP, especially on newest single “Love Deficiency Syndrome.” But, she says it was not always the zen oasis it is now. “When we first took over the space a few years ago, all the walls were painted grey, it was super dark and plastic siding was peeling off.” 

With some love and care, Big Dream is now shared with 17 other artists who make an effort to help maintain it. “Trying to figure out how to share one space 17 ways is tricky, but I think we do a good job,” Glenham says. “I like coming here and I think other people like coming here.”

Having admittedly just learned the term ‘third space,’ Glenham is a big advocate for preserving spaces that bring people together. On the new EP, she has a song called “The Local,” which she describes as “a love letter to music venues and how important they are as community spaces.” 

Hanging above a piano near the entrance is a vintage framed poster of The Beatles, which Glenham bought in an auction from the Fox Cabaret, a longstanding music venue in Vancouver.  She remembers that the late owner of the venue, Craig Doyle, had a huge collection of music memorabilia, which was being auctioned off to help raise money during the pandemic. “Bidding on that was a real sentimental thing,” she explains. “To own a piece of the history, of the whole reason why the Fox Cabaret is there.” 

She smiles. “I also love the colours of it. I think it’s so beautiful.”

As she prepares for the release of Still Here, Glenham shares that a friend recently compared her EP to the feeling of “when the sun comes out in Vancouver on a rainy day.” The Big Dream jam space also seems to encapsulate that feeling for its patrons. When the clouds part and the sun beams down through the skylight, it becomes a sanctuary suspended in golden sunlight.

Outfitted by Brixton.