"Although I didn't write this song, it spoke to me in a way that made me feel as if it was my own story,” Brandon said. “I found myself playing it over and over again in my bedroom, remembering situations that I've been through.”
Check out the video for yourself below.
With her debut as a solo artist the past year under Domino Recording Company, Sasami Ashworth, also known as SASAMI, is putting her money where her mouth is during her current tour opening for indie rock band Snail Mail. She utilizes her newfound independence in music to speak volumes, literally using her voice as loudly as she can to not only communicate, but also financially assist those who have been silenced and separated in this country. Earlier this month, Ashworth posted on her Instagram account regarding her personal call to action. She wrote in the caption, “I often feel like sound is my only power. I will be playing as loud as I fucking can and selling earplugs this tour to raise $$ for @raicestexas. I believe every bit counts.”
For those of you who have been overwhelmed by the constant headlines about and donation opportunities for the immigration and refugee crisis, RAICES is worth your attention. Founded in 1986, the non-profit agency has grown to become the largest immigration legal services provider in Texas, promoting justice by providing free and low-cost legal services to underserved immigrant children, families and refugees.
As I walked into Cleveland’s eclectic neighborhood venue, Beachland Ballroom, for SASAMI’s show, I recognized a DIY poster for the cause propped up on her merch table next to an honor system donation cup. I exchanged some cash for the earplugs and got ready to have my shit rocked for a good cause. I felt a responsibility to listen more deeply than I would have by default.
Out came Ashworth with her bandmates, her body armed with her white Pure Salem guitar. Practically no time passed before she was jolting across the stage, producing the perfect combination of a soft, yet dismantling sonic shock for the audience. Whether they were aware or not, there was intention behind the sound waves coming from the stage: the overwhelming volume of the music and projection of her shoegaze vocals replicated the same sobering shock that we all feel when we hear about catastrophic circumstances. Her performance sonically reflected the duality of frustration and gratification, building abstract tension and release.
The simplistic idea of Ashworth using her voice in this way stuck with me. “It’s really not that difficult,” she tells me, laughing during our conversation after her performance. She’s right. It really isn’t that difficult to speak up, which is why I found her effort noteworthy in an age when the majority of people who are center stage have abundant access to audiences and tools like social media, yet seldom use their platforms for social justice.
However, Ashworth’s social media is an extension of her efforts in real life. She diverts the trap of self-obsession that often plagues most social media users to, instead, use her platform as a means to recognize others, specifically those being affected by the current immigration and refugee crisis and also indigenous communities across the country. The previous night before her Cleveland show, she touched base in Columbus, Ohio, making sure to inform her Instagram followers that her band was going to be performing on indigenous Miami territory. With assistance from @seedingsoveregnity, she has pledged to do a land acknowledgment at every stop on her tour.
As a country, we are defined by how we treat the most vulnerable among us. And, as a country, we’ve reached a time when we have to decide who we are and who we’re going to be. The same can be said about each of us as individuals. Immigration has become one of the defining challenges of our generation because our country’s policies—which are dehumanizing, tyrannical and chaotic by nature—are pushing people into the shadows. If we remain silent within a system designed for immigrants and refugees to fail, we become complicit with the actions of the oppressors. But small efforts like that of Ashworth’s hold the power of restoration and remembrance. As she said, every bit counts. She reminds her audience what music is about underneath it all: having something to say. The entertainer can be the advocator, and music is a universal language serving as society’s conscience.
Tickets for the remainder of SASAMI’s tour with Snail Mail and her upcoming solo shows and are still available. If you have the pleasure of going, don’t forget to pick up some earplugs on your way in.
In the wake of Baltra's new album, Ted, office hung out with the artist for the day to chat about creativity, fashion and what living in NYC is like these days.
Where are you from?
I'm from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. I was born there, and I reside in New York City. I've been here for nearly 15 years.
Do you think the city has changed from an artist's perspective?
Oh yeah, 100%.
Is it better or worse?
It's way worse. I think it's forced a lot of musicians to either move away from New York City or be pushed further out into different areas. The cost of living has become so high—it can definitely fuck with your creativity. It's do-or-die. I guess it's been that way for quite a while, or maybe it's always been that way, but it's more apparent now.
I personally find that there's cooler stuff going on now than in 2004. The city's gotten a whole lot worse, but it's also gotten a little bit better.
I think we had to go through that period to get to where we are now. People had to get tired of where things were going. I think that era pushed people to become more inspired, to get more creative.
You've been DJing in NY long before Bushwick turned into the new Meatpacking/club row. In the past few years there have been so many dance music oriented venues springing up all over Brooklyn.
Yeah, it's crazy. I used to play a semi-illegal party a few years ago before Elsewhere opened. It used to look like an airplane hangar- it was massive. The party was actually in the concrete yard in the back. You had to walk through this warehouse space that could've fit 2 or 3 airplanes. I'm pretty sure that is now Elsewhere—they bought that illegal rave space.
What are your thoughts on all the new venues and the current state of dance music in NY? Do you think that there's a new sense of community?
Yes, definitely. I think it's great. It's not easy being an artist in New York in 2019. More venues just give more opportunities for up-and-coming artists to play. I think it's also cool to see a combination of local homegrown talent and artists from abroad being put on bills together-artists that are really killing it in different ways, that are on the cusp and cutting-edge of whatever style of music they're doing. I really think having more venues available for club nights are keeping the city alive.
Your name is associated with lo-fi house. How would you describe that sound to someone who's not familiar with it?
Again, this goes back to talking about a certain era in time, where shit was just getting corny or going too extreme in one direction. For me, it was the music. It just became so overproduced and lacking in ideas and creativity that I became more interested in what the antithesis was. People tend to think that the definition of beauty is something being perfect. To me, it's not. I like when there's something unique and maybe off. That's normally where I find the beauty in things. I guess that's how I became interested in playing around with sounds that weren't considered high fidelity or perfect. Also, I didn't and still don't really have the technical wherewithal to produce really clean music. It became an aesthetic that I am now associated with. I like the juxtaposition of the raw and the clean. Lo-fi house is just low fidelity sounds—a lot of field recordings, fucked up stuff...you're either recording it through cassette decks, or analog tape, or whatever software that makes it sound like that. It’s got a sort of nostalgic feel; it's got an attitude!
Is this your first full length?
It's tricky. 'No Regrets' was seven songs but to me, it felt like a long EP, rather than an actual full length. I originally put it out on cassette tape and then the label ‘Of Paradise’ in London reached out about essentially doing a reissue, but on vinyl, so we did that. This album that I'm releasing in July has fifteen songs.
Congrats! It's a beautiful record. I was super happy to hear some drum and bass on there; some minimal and ambient stuff too.
Thank you! Yeah, it's just a lot of shit that I love.
Tell us a little bit about what informed this album.
I didn't want to have any sort of limits, or things that I felt like I had to have on the album. I kind of wanted to go and break outside of the realm of just being considered a lo-fi house producer. I really wanted to take full control of how I am categorized, too. I think in the media it's easy to hop on the train of a buzz-word, whatever's of the moment. For me, though, it's much more than that, you know? I'm not just trying to make trendy music. I’m just trying to make music that I am proud of and can stand behind, that's hopefully exciting to the listener. So, on this album I incorporated a lot of things I didn't really do prior to this; things like field recordings and instances where you'll hear a sound only once in the song, which is not really typical in house or techno music.
It was kind of like a soundboard of expression for how I've been feeling over the past two years after having lost my father. It's even cool for me to listen back and follow the journey of loss and mourning. I hope the album translates in a way that is super relatable in regards to loss and self recovery … not just in terms of losing a loved one or losing someone to their death, but just loss in any sort of realm. For me, the album turned into more of a coping mechanism. It was like an escape while I was going through so many emotions that I'd never experienced before- I've never really lost anyone. I mean, I've lost grandparents but I was very young when that happened. So this was my first monumental loss. It happened over a matter of months, and was very unexpected, so it was jarring … very surreal. I think the album was therapeutic for me. I wasn't exactly creating with any intent outside of making music.
I very often hear people describe your music as emotional.
It's a pet peeve of mine to hear club music that is completely emotionless. It's like, what are you even doing? I hear sounds all the time which don’t impact me at all. Then there could be a track consisting of just drums, but whoever made it is expressing something through it. I think every time I set out to make a song or sit down to create something, it has to resonate with me, otherwise I completely stop working on it. Some days, you have the creativity and some days you don't. It's natural, it’s human. I think that with music, there's the creative part, where you're just free to do as you wish, and then there's the aspect of composing it, of actually making a useful thing that someone can listen to and not just random sounds. It's like shooting a movie and then actually putting it together.
Your first single "Ahead Of Time" features Korean vocalist Park Hye Jin. How did you link up?
I heard her first EP and was really intrigued by it. I thought it was very cool and fresh. I was familiar with the label that she'd put it out on and having been to Seoul before I realized that we actually had a few mutual friends. So while I was finalizing the album, I reached out to her directly and asked her if she was interested in collaborating on a track. The original version of the song had an Aaliyah/Drake vocal sample and had gotten a really good response when I played it on a couple club nights. It turned out to be the track she wanted to hop on.
You just modeled for Raf Simons x Adidas. Describe your personal style! Are you into fashion?
Yeah, quite a bit. I wish I could afford all the things I want to wear. I try to make do with what I can and what I have. It's such a cliche to say "I dress the way I feel" but it's pretty true for me—I like to mix things up. I feel that with vintage sometimes it's pretty serendipitous when you come across an amazing piece. You can't just go to a store and buy it the way you would buy the latest collection off a website. When you find it, it's because it’s the right time and the right place. My brother’s a fashion designer and is five years older than me, so he always introduced me to fashion and styles of music. There was enough of an age difference and this was pre-internet too, so I was learning about things earlier than other kids my age. So yeah, I think I've always been pretty keen about fashion.
What's your favorite piece or item that you own currently?
I have a vintage Margiela trench coat that I really like. Also, my Saint Laurent chelsea boots are a staple. They can be dressed up or dressed down-—they're kinda for any occasion.
What is getting your attention right now, music wise?
There's so much music out there right now that it's difficult to consume it all, but I try to put my friends at the forefront. There are a bunch of outlets these days. Avalon Emerson runs a website called buymusic.club which is great for finding new stuff that's on Bandcamp or whatnot. But yeah, I definitely try to push my friends forward and support them as much as I can, no matter what genre. Sometimes I need a break from electronic music and I’ll just listen to hip-hop, indie—whatever's new there.
What's the best thing about living in NYC now?
For me, it's always been about the diversity in culture and the attitude in New York. I think that's still what draws me in and attracts me—what will always make me love NYC as much as I do.
Another city or place in the world with an interesting scene?
London—there's always great shit going on there. Also, the crowd is always great and super open in Berlin. I've been to so many incredible places. Tblisi in Georgia has a very cool rave scene—Kiev and Moscow, too. A lot of the Eastern European countries are amazing.
They are! I'm Eastern European.
Me too, actually. I have relatives that are all from Eastern Europe. I was wondering what kind of last name Baltra is. It's Lithuanian—it was shortened when my relatives came here. It's funny, whenever I travel to play, everyone will always speak to me in the native tongue. They'll think I'm from there, no matter where I am… Moscow, Lithuania, France, even Finland. Everywhere I play, people think I'm from there.
Being relatable can be a good thing!
Well, people say it's good to be from New York, but truthfully, the ravers don't really give a fuck where you're from!
