Responsible Friend

Elizabeth Ziman is the singer-songwriter and creative force behind Elizabeth and The Catapult, known for her piano-driven compositions, sharp emotional insight,and disarming honesty, and who has built a career on songs that balance wit and vulnerability with striking precision. She's toured with the likes of Sara Bareillesand Kishi Bash i ; collaborated with with Esperanza Spalding, Gillian Welch, Blake Mills and Ben Folds; scored, with Paul Brill; and her songs have been featured innational television campaigns for Google, Amazon, Sky TV, and So You Think You Can Dance.Responsible Friend is an album about the ways in which we show up for one another. What does it mean to be a responsible friend - to be there for someone you lovewithout trying to save them? "The first lesson I learned about caregiving," says Elizabeth, "is that I need to put on my own oxygen mask before I can help anyoneelse. The next lesson (and the one you won't find in an airline seat-back) was that no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't take away anyone's pain. I wasn'tthere to fix anyone. I just had to accept them on their own terms." That philosophy runs throughout the album, with songs about a family member's passing, a friendliving with long COVID, and the shared burden of a society steeped in conflict and injustice. "I realized that everyone I knew, including myself, was being asked toprocess an enormous amount of grief at an alarming pace," she says. "Writing these songs became my way to surrender to those experiences and slow down enough tobe fully present for the people in my life."Some of the songs on Responsible Friend are joyful dedications; others feel more like letters Elizabeth wasn't sure she wanted to send. Taken together, it's a recordabout slowing down in a world that keeps accelerating. It's a commitment to friends, family, and self, at a time when everyone seems to be carrying more than they canreasonably hold. With Responsible Friend, Elizabeth Ziman delivers a record that feels both intimate and expansive, an unflinching reflection on care, grief, and thestuff it takes to keep showing up.