Essay: i inhale music, exhale words

By: Natasha Aidoo

You’re here with me, in this meta moment. i reflect on how music is an inextricable part of my writing process while i’m listening to the self-titled EP by Slowdive and typing these words. It’s a loop: music nurtures my writing and by doing so i’m encouraged to listen to more music. The way i think while writing is somewhat through a lyrical structure. Apparent silent melodies are whispered within the words, but the images i describe are sonically loud in my mind.

Writing and music go hand in hand. There are times when i’m overwhelmed by turbulent feelings. i rely on a certain type of music to calm my storms and enable me to take a step back, to be rocked by the waves, to transform the emotions into words that soothe me. Piercing through the sadness. There are other times when i neither need nor want to distance myself from how i feel. Music enhances what i’m going through and pushes me to spit my emotions onto paper in an unfiltered, uncensored, unedited way. It's catharsis.

i will focus on the artists that have inspired and transformed me. Bands whose magic is embedded in my writing.

Slowdive. i remember falling in love with the song “Alison” so much that i couldn't listen to it without tearing up. Listening to Slowdive is a continuous journey. i’m transported to a timeless, cosmic dimension where the boundless confines of the melodies remind me of how infinite my thoughts and words are. i collapse in soundscapes that capture the atmospheres somewhat hidden in language. It's as if i can dilate and stop time simultaneously. i’ve always been fascinated by Space, so finding music that recreates the ethereal and “caught in mid-stars” state has been awesome.

Autolux. Oh Autolux! i could spend hours on how blissful listening to their music is, the perfect balance between delicacy and rage. i’m enthralled by the contrast between the harsh sounds and the metaphorical, weightless-yet-grounded lyrics. To craft songs in such an exquisite way has made me reflect on how expressive surreal visions can be. i guess it’s about the romanticism within our everyday actions, the deep melancholy that catches me so suddenly, and the absurdity of existence.

Ruby Haunt. A band whose refreshing gloom feels like a blanket of hugs. The coziness that can be found in the quiet of darkness and in the dreamlike trips taken at dawn. When the thin line between being awake and asleep is so, so blurry. i take refuge in their songs, hiding for a while from what surrounds me. I find solace in those symphonies filled with repetitions. To transcend reality by losing myself in the words i sing: to leave and go nowhere, untethered. i believe that to dig into one’s inner worlds, to find complex and intricate dimensions, and to accept the vulnerability of putting them into words is what attracts me. It's what pushes me to keep writing, for how painful and scary it can be. It’s the act of unravelling my essence and how i perceive realities. Ruby Haunt’s record Blue Hour now holds my hand on this lazy Sunday evening.

The Horrors. Floating poetry that uplifts and relaxes me. i like to think of their music as a surreal blossom. The capacity to evoke sceneries that will stick with who (listens) reads is something that i believe is so central. i’d want you to get lost in what is written, the same way i dive in the cosmos when i’m typing. The dissolution of distance and boundaries. i have been connected to this band since i started writing poems: i titled my unedited collection of poems Still Life after their wondrous and timeless song.

Beach House. The embodiment of my love for music. Every time i listen to them, i fall deeper in love. It’s inevitable. A layered feeling. It’s the bittersweet taste of nostalgia. How can euphoria be interwoven with sorrow so easily? There are the constant memories attached to the songs, the bond between the melodies and my desires and dreams, the subtle magic within the storytelling skills of Victoria Legrand, and the intimacy that is crafted on each album. It’s special to find peace in the kaleidoscopic atmosphere of a band, to rely on this certainty even when everything seems to fall apart. i cherish the fleeting solidity they convey, wondering how my words can fall somehow effortlessly into place.

With the beginning of a new year, there are bands that have made these cold but cozy days special. i relentlessly play records by DIIV (Is the Is Are and Deceiver), SAULT, and the latest by Wolf Alice (the magnificent Blue Weekend) and Nalyssa Green (the blissful Taxidi Astriko). i find comfort in listening to what represents the soundtrack of these last months, without discarding it for a need of supposed change or renewal. Nevertheless, novelty is exciting! i’m surely looking forward to listening to the newest record by Beach House (Once Twice Melody) and its four chapters in a whole session, to unwrap it with the anticipation of a child on Christmas Day. Along with works by Jack White (his two albums Fear of the Dawn and Entering Heaven Alive), Alt-j (The Dream), King Hannah (their debut album I’m Not Sorry, I Was Just Being Me) and the debut album by the Smile, made up of Radiohead members Thom Yorke and Jonny Greenwood and Sons of Kemet drummer Tom Skinner.

This new year for me is also the chance to catch up with music i didn’t have the chance to enjoy last year, like the latest records by James Blake (Friends That Break Your Heart), Little Simz (Sometimes I Might Be Introvert), La Femme (Paradigmes) and Idles (Crawler). In the last case, talking about it made me curious, and it has already sprinkled this sunny day with electricity and energy.

i marvel at the quiet joy that springs from my soul in this instant. It's a challenging and interesting thing to wonder critically how music and my writing interact since they complement each other. At the core of this bond is a sonic labyrinth of feelings, stories, fantasies, and realities that i enjoy exploring—but also getting lost in.