Isaac Dunbar Takes Our Pop Quiz
office gave Isaac an impromptu pop quiz where there are no wrong answers... except, of course, the wrong ones.
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office gave Isaac an impromptu pop quiz where there are no wrong answers... except, of course, the wrong ones.
Watch the "greedy" acoustic performance and read the interview below.
FASHION CREDITS
TATE wears top DION LEE, jeans GUCCI, necklace TATE'S OWN, bracelet and rings ARSN, shoes R13
Michael— A lot of stars don’t really do acoustic covers of their own songs, yet you have quite a few. What drew you to doing acoustic covers of your own music?
Tate— When I first started writing songs, I used to post videos on Youtube with just me and my piano. And that's still my favorite thing to do — just strip back with only my voice and an instrument. I feel like that’s when I’m the most artistic and the most raw — when I’m playing an acoustic set. Sometimes when I'm on stage, my dancer instincts kick in and I just like to overperform. At the same time though, it’s really good for me to just sit down and get really into the music. That’s when I’m the most true singer version of myself.
When I first was introduced to your music — on a Spotify playlist — I didn't know your backstory at all. I heard one song and thought, “Wow, this girl is an amazing vocalist.” but I wasn’t aware of the fact that you emerged as a dancer. At what point did you realize that you could also sing?
Honestly, I've never thought of myself as a vocalist. I think I was really like an emotional kid. I had a lot of feelings but as a dancer you're told to shut up. And that's how you live your life: You shut your mouth and you dance. And I think there’s something about that that’s very wrong. Obviously, there’s so much that I want for dancers. But the biggest thing for me — aside from dancing — was writing. I’d dance for however many hours a day, and then I’d go home to my keyboard and write poetry and short stories and songs. That was my only way to express myself, communicating to people. So during middle school, I’d go through troubles with friends and relationships, and I’d always just go to my piano and process it through my own vocals. That was the only way I could get a perspective on things — if I wrote about them. I’d call myself more of a songwriter than a vocalist, because I feel like the songwriting is more the passion and the catharsis.
Did dance ever start to feel like work?
When I was around 16, I felt like I missed out on a massive part of my childhood. I didn't go to school very much. I was at an all girls ballet school and I was like, “Oh my God, I never got to experience anything that a normal child experiences.” And so I went through a phase where I absolutely hated dance, and all I wanted to do was hang out with my friends and write music. I really drifted away from it until recently, when I re-found my love for dance as a singer, because I realized it doesn’t have to be stressful, it doesn’t have to be forced. This is my true passion — I’ve loved dancing ever since I was a baby, and it came back this year just about when I turned 20. I feel like my passion has resurfaced, but it took a second, for sure.
Let’s talk about “greedy,” which is charting more than anything else you've released. How do you feel about that? I heard it was considered a risky decision to release a song like this?
I don't know why, but my natural instinct is just not to write a song like "greedy". It was really something that I pushed myself to do because I wanted to be able to dance. I was scared, I kept asking myself if I really could put it out, thinking that “This could potentially be the worst release in my career,” but I couldn’t refuse the sound at the beginning of the song, it's so new to me, and that ecstasy was too good to stray away from.
Once I first heard it I was like, wow you've really grown up — not that your other songs were younger — but , somehow this feels like it could be like number one, it has got that spell on it, you know what I mean?
Yeah, this one definitely feels like a progression and surely feels as if I have matured. At the same time, it feels like me exactly at this point in time in my life, which is a lovely reflection. That fear ahead of making it available to the public — also comes with great excitement, that particular point where you’re like “ok, crossing my fingers, hope this doesn't ruin everything.” I'm really happy with how people are reacting to it, they are loving it!
Besides for us just now, have you performed it live for an audience yet?
Yeah, last week in Philly actually. I performed it with the audience about an hour before it officially came out and — even the parts that I’ve only teased so far — they know every single word, the whole lyric. It's a very surreal sensation.
How do you feel about platforms such as Tik Tok, in relation to promoting your music?
There's a part of me that hates having to do social media. I hate posting, I hate commenting. I hate doing shit that stresses me out. Yet when it comes to teasing, it's the same shit I’ve been doing since I was 13, I just put my favorite sections of the song lyrics on a screen. So that part doesn't really feel like a pain in the ass. Neither does connecting with my fans. It doesn't feel like a chore but overall — going on social media, logging on Twitter, posting on Instagram — makes me wanna die sometimes, because I feel like it's such a draining thing. Unfortunately, today there seems to be no way to escape it, it follows the so-called business model.
I hear you’ve also been writing in Sweden — what’s that like, why is Sweden such a hub of pop?
Writing in Sweden was an incredible learning experience, but aside from that it was also so much fun. The writers and producers I worked with approach pop music as math — quite literally figuring out which equations make for the catchiest melodies. It really broadened my understanding of all the ways I can tap into my artistry and live out my pop girl-era, especially working with Max Martin Camp, he’s like the king of pop.
However, I don't know if I will end up releasing any music from Sweden, because my melodies aren’t my number one priority. My lyrics will always come first, they are my primary element, hence it was amazing to be around people who have various approaches to writing.
You grew up in Canada, is that what inspired the hockey rink in the "greedy" video?
I grew up in Calgary and my brother is a hockey player, so hockey has always been a part of my life. When I was contemplating how I envisioned the Greedy music video, I had just watched “Whatever Lola Wants, Lola Gets”. I was so inspired, envisioning myself dancing in a locker room and driving a Zamboni. With the help of my creative director, Bradley J Calder, it all came together. I am thrilled with how it turned out – I feel my vision was painted perfectly by Aerin Moreno, the director.
The colors are insane. I love it.
Oh my God, yes! Music videos are her language. She helped me execute exactly what I desired -every set up that I would describe to her, I'd be like “The hockey room needs to be green, needs to be this and that,” and she gets it right every time. Her execution is flawless. And it felt right to right to all of us, for every person on our team it just made complete sense.
That's so precious, it’s a rare feeling.
Well, I feel like there have been a lot of earlier things I’ve put out where I just got put in clothes, various colors and elements that just doesn't really translate to me on a personal level, that’s why I felt like I struggled a lot after releasing my first album. I got told to do so many different things and present myself in such a specific way, it made me question the necessity of it all, and myself in the long run.
Around that time, people would always come up to me and say things like “ah, you're so much cooler in person!” And I’m like “I don’t know if that’s a great thing?”. It got me thinking about what I really want to say at the end of the day, and why I am pursuing this. I took a step back, cleared my head, and that space ended up being so crucial for going forward with my vision for this next album.
I really think that's such a common phenomenon - everyone's first set of visuals is usually far from what they really want to be. If you want to describe your next era, like in a certain color, what color would it be?
Definitely green and blue, that’s the vibe. I have always been such a tomboy, always teasing my feminine side but never really exposed it fully. Today I feel like I’m at a point where I’m finally able to mend the two together. I like wearing basketball shorts and crop tops on stage. And if you don't like that, you don't like hockey. I like hockey jerseys. And I like wearing a hockey glove on stage.
That's amazing, speaking about on stage — how is the tour going?
Tour is going on right now! We're almost halfway through, heading for Nashville tomorrow. It’s been awesome. I think the energy of the band has changed in the last year. I feel like they're so pumped and “die hard.” So I feel very lucky.
I just did two nights in New York and it was unbelievable. It was like my biggest venue and I was very grateful to be in front of so many people. It was sold out, full of people who know my lyrics, it’s truly so flattering.
A couple of nights ago you had a fan crying in the audience, how do you navigate those moments, are they socially awkward?
It's a super weird dynamic because if I'm internally feeling awful and feeling socially awkward, then my interactions with my fans are so awkward! But usually, I would say that I'm pretty good at it, like 98% of the time. I believe in the fact that if you want to make something awkward, you can make it awkward but you can just as easily make it less uncomfortable. I mean, I'm singing sad love songs, of course people are going to cry sometimes, it’s a weird profession. It feels a bit like a fever dream.
When you're at this level of success, do you ever have an existential crisis?
I had a massive month-long midlife crisis last year. I was like, who am I? I'm living in LA alone. I've been touring for a year now. What's going on? I can't just keep releasing music that I'm not super proud of. And I think that crisis was really important for me, because I was literally forced to go sit in the grass outside, and be like, “OK, Tate, who are you? What do I want in life? And where do I want to go?” That really brought me clarity. Basically, you have to figure it out for yourself when you're and I think hitting a low, that’s when you know progression is potentially coming your way.
Yeah. So I know that you're in the "bad idea right" video for Olivia Rodrigo, directed by Petra Collins. How was that?
It was so much fun. All those girls are the best girl ever: Iris, Maddie and Olivia, and then Petra is just like a fucking vibe. I finally found a girl group in LA that I think hype each other up and support each other and it's really hard to find some honest people these days. My circle is so tiny, and it’s by choice, because I only want friends around who are able to provide the best vibes for each other; do favors left and right. The video was so inspiring. I love Olivia, she's so talented.
I almost feel like we have entered a new era in pop, where people are generally more genuine towards each other amongst younger generations, do you know what I mean?
Yeah, honestly I think that the fans think there's way more drama going on.
Most of the time we're just best friends and no one gives a shit. There's a lot of bad ass females in this industry right now that are fucking killing it. And I think that we're all like you're in your lane, I'm in my lane. Let's crush it together and I think that's super cool and very unheard of.
Ok, last question. Do you have a favorite song off of GUTS?
Of course, my favorite is “making the bed”. Like the rest of the world, I fell in love with Olivia’s lyrics. The way she takes ownership of herself and her actions in the most poetic and relatable way possible. “making the bed” is so intelligent and elegant. It’s also just gut-wrenchingly beautiful.
Expanding into more funk/ electro-house beats in his latest single “Hope You Heal”, Kota reminds us to brush off other people’s negativity; creating room for the brighter side of hip-hop and continuing to speak on the topics that bind us together. Kota can't be bothered with the drama and the “bad vibes'' that accompany this industry. He wishes all the best to his haters and in the meantime, he's gonna keep doing him.
office sat down with the indie hip-hop artist and producer to discuss his recent investment in NYC Sports Network, how he avoids negativity in the industry, and what fatherhood has taught him about giving back to the people he loves.
Your music provides an escape for a lot of people from the everyday noise, negativity, and allows them to listen to something more authentic and uplifting. How do you use making music to work through everyday challenges on your own?
For me, writing and making music is a way to express what's going on in my mind and all the inner chaos that’s happening. Sometimes I can’t really communicate something until I write about it, so writing about it through music has always helped me make sense of what’s going on in my head.
How do you incorporate your upbringing in Brooklyn into your music?
I think it comes in and out depending on what song it is or what the song is about. But I’m always incorporating Brooklyn, where I'm from, things that I've been through and how things that I’ve been through are affecting my life now, how they have helped me, how they kind of toughened me up, you know but what I write about is my life, my real life.
Given that you grew up in NYC following high school sports, how does it feel to have that full circle moment now that you’re investing with NYC Sports Network?
Yeah it feels good to give back to roots, I feel like that was a time in my life when I was shooting videos for the NYCSNetwork like high school sports and you get invested in the kids that are coming up. It’s cool to see those kids come from High School to College and then get into the NFL or the NBA. I remember seeing the feeling that these kids would have when somebody was taking videos and reporting on them and making highlight reels of them when they were in high school. They appreciate it so much. So it would be a good thing to be able to like support them in that way again, you know.
You talk a lot about how you value authenticity in your music, how do you balance the pressure of producing commercial music while simultaneously creating an authentic album?
I feel like for an artist it’s always a struggle to stay authentic and I think I balance it just by leaving the music alone and trying to keep the music authentic no matter what. Whether it’s profitable or not. The money side will figure it out on its own, you know. If the music is not making as much money then you know it we’ll do something else that’s why we get into real estate, whatever, I just like to stay authentic on the music side no matter what.
Tell me about the artwork for the album cover of Protea that you incorporated into your collaboration with Dinner Service. What inspired this scene of a gathering on the beach?
I wanted the artwork to really be classic and to remind me of the artwork that I saw growing up in my house. Like the African American artwork that I would see in my mom’s house or my grandma’s house. The cover art has different elements, like my wife is from Dubai so it takes place in the desert, there's music instruments involved, it looks like there’s a wedding, there’s a hot air balloon because hot air balloons are big out in Dubai too, so it was a few things. Kinda like everything that I love about my life rolled up into one and I just want it to look like I wanted it to look like a classic art piece.
Your single “Hope you Heal” is one of your more up beat tracks that talks about brushing off negativity from others. How do you keep this mindset in such a competitive industry like hip hop?
I like to keep the mindset by not participating in a lot of industry stuff. I like to keep my music pure, I like to just keep it about the music and kind of leave everything that taints it, out of it. I’m kinda in my own lane, I play my own game, I do things my way so it's a lot of stuff that I don’t have to deal with when it comes to the industry.
What inspired you to add more electro house beats into your recent albums?
I’ve always been inspired by that kind of music and I think at that time I was just listening to a lot more house, electronic and different sounds and it became something I wanted to experiment with.
A lot of your music, specifically your latest album Protea, talks about your wife and raising a family. What is the biggest thing you’ve learned from fatherhood?
The biggest thing I’ve learned from fatherhood is you have to give space when space is needed, you have to get closer when that’s needed, and you have to learn the nuances.
Lately, one of my biggest things has been finding a way to do something special for the special people in my life, every day. I think about when it comes to my son, and when it comes to my daughter, I just like to do something that they like to do every day. When you have people in your life that are important to you, you have to make sure that everybody is kind of living a good life. You wanna do things for yourself, and you wanna do things for everybody in your life whether you have a wife, you have kids, make sure that everybody is enjoying their time on this earth and I try to do my best at that.
The 34-year-old singer, songwriter, and producer took a nearly seven year hiatus between the release of his debut album Process in 2017 and his sophomore album LAHAI. The entire world experienced pivotal upheaval and change in that interim, as did Sampha’s internal world: he became a father. The experience of bringing another human being into the world catalyzed his first brushes with the spiritual and supernatural. Through his relationship with his daughter, Sampha felt a metempsychotic connection to his late mother, whose passing in 2015 inspired many of the tracks on Process. That glimpse into the world of the unseen opened up the physic exploration that would become LAHAI.
Sonically, the project presents a matured yet quintessential Sampha. His voice is as soulful as ever and his production even more dexterous and ambitious than before, blending sounds from West African folk and hip hop beats with his instrumental mother tongue of piano and his classic restless and melancholy melodies. Lyrically, his storytelling is vibrant and evocatively fantastical, questioning ideas of intergenerational and chronological linearity, and — in the most striking shift from the grief of Process — presenting a portrait of a man who is unwaveringly facing forward into his future.
Over the summer, Sampha joined us over video call from his home in London to discuss returning to the stage, the inimitable value of experiencing music collectively, and the spiritual valence of fatherhood.
[Originally published in office magazine Issue 20, Fall-Winter 2023. Order your copy here.]
SAMPHA wears TOP, PANTS by HOMME PLISSE ISSEY MIYAKE, SHOES by CAMPERLAB (left)
SAMPHA wears TOP by JW ANDERSON, PANTS by KENZO, SHOES by OAMC (right)
Hi Sampha. Thank you for taking the time to talk to me today. I’ve really enjoyed listening to the album, and the themes of spirituality and family resonate a lot. The album is named LAHAI, after your paternal grandfather and your own middle name. I know you’re Sierra Leonean — I’m Ethiopian, and I know how significant hereditary names can be in African cultures. How did you decide on that title?
It's a personal journey and a personal record, and one that I wrote in the time of COVID. I had just become a father. I was having maybe, a good old standard existential crisis. I just felt this kind of disconnection to anything beyond the physical realm. I had this feeling like I'd never really been in touch with any sort of other side, or had any sort of visceral connection to a spirit or someone who's passed.
But then having a child of my own, I just had this extremely strong sensation of seeing that part of my parents is in this other person. That kind of reflected on the realization that I'm also part of them. I had this really strong feeling of remembering through my physical being. And so it got me thinking about lineage and about being a part of a continuum, and about time, and about a lot of things.
Lahai being my middle name, it got me thinking also about the people I come from, where we're going and the linearity and non-linearity of it all. And then obviously the name just has a personal resonance to me, which seemed to fit in with the theme of the record.
How has fatherhood changed your approach to your music?
It's naturally quite a dramatic change, because I was a bit of a night owl before. And suddenly, my world had to just focus on keeping this being alive, and getting up early, and so my whole schedule has changed. It was quite the whirlwind initially.
I didn't make any music for a little while, for a few months. And, yeah, it's funny — I wasn't, like, just washed over by this kind of euphoria and wanting to write 50 billion songs. It was very much the physical here and now. And it's a beautiful thing, because it's a love that slowly grows, and it keeps on evolving. But yeah, it took a while for me to start making music again, and then I had to start making music at “reasonable hours.”
SAMPHA wears JACKET, TOP, PANTS by FEAR OF GOD, NECKLACE by ELIOU, SHOES by FERRAGAMO
I know a lot of this album was written during COVID lockdown, which for a lot of artists came with a pressure to use the time as a creative incubator. How did that isolation affect your artistic process?
I imagine if I didn't have a daughter, it would have been a different experience, a quicker experience, potentially. I imagine I would have spent a lot of time making music. So yeah, it wasn't an incubator in that sense. I was more so just incubating something – someone – else.
As I'm growing older though, I also appreciate being around people in the physical sense. That’s what I wanted to do, before any of this happening. I'd written a few tracks before March 2020, but not many. So a majority of it was written after it became a pandemic. It was a period where I couldn't, even if I wanted to — I wasn't traveling anywhere, wasn't doing any big sessions.
When I did start doing sessions again, it was like a lot of remote sessions and doing things over the internet, which just forced me into a kind of new way of making music. I guess that will lend to the nature of the record as well, potentially. I’ve never really done too much of that before, working on my own music with some people remotely. The change was more so just the perspective that it gave on what I was actually writing, more than the process of making it.
You recently did a series of shows in Brooklyn. Was that your first time back on stage since the pandemic?
I did a few guest spots, for people in London, and I did SNL with Kendrick [Lamar], but I guess that’s a bit different. But yeah, that was my first time coming back and doing a solo show with a band.
In the show notes, you said you wanted it to be a place for experimentation and to kind of free yourself up a bit and try new things on stage. Was that successful? Where did that desire come from?
I felt like I was just coming back into a whole different universe, especially with the acceleration of how we put out music and record and document stuff and social media. And for me, you know, it's been a long break, and I just felt like I needed to create for myself.
It was also a genuine thing because I haven't put anything out in a while and I haven't performed, and it felt like I just needed a space where I felt free to play with arrangements. To be honest, now it's something that I just want to keep on doing. I want it to keep feeling like this ever-evolving thing, where it's always like that no matter what or where the show is. We were telling ourselves that this is always a space for experimenting and expressing, and it makes it fun as well. It makes you feel slightly more flexible, you know, and then you're able to connect.
I think it's naturally how I play anyway, to a certain degree. I have always been really bad at playing things the same twice, or playing a song exactly how it sounds on the record or singing exactly how I did the day before.
It’s interesting you mention that acceleration, because I really admire how much time you’ve taken between projects — it’s a real subversion of the demands we put on artists nowadays, and few are able to really resist it. How intentional was that?
SAMPHA wears JACKET, TOP, PANTS by FEAR OF GOD, NECKLACE by ELIOU, SHOES by FERRAGAMO
My process of writing music sometimes is naturally quite slow, especially when it comes to writing lyrics and actually having enough strength to finalize them. It might be quite cliche, but I started off just making instrumentals. That was my first genuine outlet, and I've always leaned more towards that side of things. Vocally and lyrically, I've always had to build up confidence — to be like, “I don't have to sound perfect, I don't have to be a singer-singer.” Or my lyrics, I don't necessarily have to be the deepest storyteller, realizing I can write things in my own way and sort of getting comfortable with how I write. But it just takes me a while. I've seen many other artists write, and some artists are able to pen a song in a day. And I can also write quickly as well sometimes, but it’s more so figuring out what I want to say. I freestyle a lot and then it will take me a while to decipher what I'm actually trying to get out of this, or what I'm talking about. Some of the ideas are quite lofty, and trying to make sense of it all for the purpose of a record could sometimes feel like a bit of a tall order.
But every time, I always endeavor, like, “Oh yeah, my next album, I’m gonna bang it out in two months!” [Laughs]
On that note, how does it feel now that this is your second time approaching an album release? Does it feel different from the time leading up to Process?
It's different a little bit, I guess just naturally because the world has changed, and even the way in which we release music has changed. But, also, my experiences have changed quite vastly. There was something nice about being maybe a little bit more innocent — I’d be like, “Hey, I don’t know what this is, I’ll just do it!” I guess the difference is now, I do know what this is, which does have its pros as well in navigating things. It's also funny how much I forget as well, like how it actually felt releasing things. Sometimes it feels like it was just yesterday and sometimes it feels like it never happened, you know, in a weird way. But there's a lot of similar feelings. I'm still traveling towards an unknown territory and unmarked space.
I feel like I'm in a similar space where I don’t really have much of an idea of how people are going to take it in, or what the collective consciousness will make of it. And it's exciting, also with a little bit of anxiety at times, and a lot of growth in terms of learning how to deal with those emotions in the most healthy way possible. I’m not attaching my whole sense of self worth and value to the work I make.
I feel like I'm more aware now than I was then that I'm a bit more of a vessel, and it's not necessarily all me in a sense. I'm not talking about some sort of higher power or something speaking through me, but you're allowed to let go. You're allowed to not have to attach yourself to something you've created.
One of the lyrics that has stuck in my head as I've listened to the album is “spirit gon’ catch you,” from the first song you put out from this album, Spirit 2.0. That lyric reminds me of so many times in the last few years that I felt that way, like spirit caught me. Is there a moment that you feel like spirit caught you that you would be open to sharing?
I remember a friend of mine who used to talk about “sliding door moments,” or the moments you can see a little bit of a crack in reality, or the times where life kind of slows down and you have an epiphany. And as I said, one of them was feeling my mother's energy through my daughter.
SAMPHA wears TOP, SHOES by BURBERRY, PANTS by SAVANT STUDIOS, WATCH by HUBLOT
Sometimes it’s that I have a lot of self doubt or anxiety when it comes to performing music, for instance, and the idea of doing it is almost like it's not me who's gonna be going up there and doing that — that must be someone else. But when I actually get to go into piano, I get lost in it and something takes over, and it's like, “Wow, where did this come from?” Sometimes, in my normal days I forget about that ability.
I might call that spirit. I don't know what it is or, you know, that thing where it feels like something takes over. I guess it's the world of creation, I would even say when I'm talking to people — I’m not making up the words I'm saying to you right now. I'm winging it. I can't pre-write what I'm saying to you, you know, it kind of just keeps flowing. I can't predict what I'm about to say to you in the next 20 seconds. It's just being, and I think sometimes it’s so constant that you're not even aware of it.
You cited physics and magical realism as some of the inspirations or themes of the album, which I found interesting because the older I get and the more my relationship to spirituality deepens, the more I realize that there's less contradiction and more agreement between science and spirituality than I previously realized. What role did that play in your thinking as you made this album?
I’ve always been interested in science — maybe just popular science, but I've always been interested in the intersections and the borderlines between disciplines and genres. Sometimes there's moments where you can start to see those walls melt away a little bit.
I was watching this documentary about the universe, and Brian Cox was presenting the show, and he was talking about time and entropy, about how it's harder to figure out how to travel back in time because of entropy, as opposed to moving forward. It was just an interesting statement to me, and when I was at the piano, I just kind of got thinking about stories and our obsession with time.
Life can be extremely mundane and extraordinary in the same moment, in the same sentence. Making tracks and stuff, sometimes I would just imagine scenarios, like I would just imagine flying on air. I've got a track of my record where I talk about running away from demons or flying up to a forest in the clouds. I've found an interesting way of just being able to paint pictures, you know — paint pictures with words, paint pictures with sounds.
Sometimes I feel insecure about some of my songwriting, and when I came across terms like afrofuturism and magical realism, they just felt like terms that related to what I was already doing.
That speaks also back to what you were saying about intergenerational connection and what it feels like to be part of a literal lineage — because here you’re placing yourself in an artistic lineage. The storytelling you're describing for your music to me is very visual. Do you see there being a visual component for this album?
I always endeavor to, because the way I write, I use visuals as a mirror or something to write to. I might put on a film and put it on mute, or have photography or art books open, and sort of write to that. Or when I'm writing, I'm writing to a particular scene that feels like a mood, and I try to sort of articulate that in lyrics.
That being said, what I see in this record is quite wild in some ways or quite specific, and it's definitely a challenge trying to figure out how to translate that visually, because I'm not so skilled in being able to quickly translate how I want something to look as opposed to how I’d like something to sound. I'm working on it, you know — trying to figure out how to do that and get better at it. But it's definitely a difficult, challenging, and exciting process of figuring out. I like to figure out: what is the feeling that's being translated and how is it being done?
Sometimes it's the story, but sometimes I realize, well, maybe it wasn't even the story, it was the camera that was actually doing the writing, and the film and the texture, just like with my music. Sometimes it takes me a while to realize that there is a sonic thread between all these tracks, like something that sounds slightly impressionistic and magical.
It's taken working with people like Khalil Joseph for me to recognize what I like is things being shot on film and what I like are these specific colors. It's definitely an important component, but in all honesty I feel like I'm a little bit further behind in terms of trying to express myself visually. I'm trying. [Laughs]
When the accompanying film for Process came out, you and the director Khalil Joseph did smaller screenings of it in a very intentional way, having the audience experience it intimately. Could you tell me a little about why you made that choice?
That film was a collaboration, and the rollout was actually mostly led by Khalil, who is sort of precious about his work. Keeping things that precious or putting them in a space where it feels, as you said, intentional is really nice. There's something nice about seeing things in physical spaces with people on big screens, in terms of creating an environment as an artist for people to take in your work in a particular way.
I think the way in which I express that sometimes is like, creating a song that's five minutes long and not making it three, and then putting it out first — “Spirit 2.0” is a 5 minute song and it's the first one I’ve put out. I wasn't gonna try and change that. I'd like to create experiences for people to listen to the record in its entirety and listen in collective spaces.
Everyone has extremely busy lives and, you know how sometimes you need someone to come over for you to clean up your house? There's times where you need to create a space for people to come over and just be able to leave things at the door, and have a moment to just let go and focus in on something and not feel this nagging feeling to do something else, or feel guilty about listening to a whole record or watching a film. I'd like to create that collective experience for people to react in-person.
I feel like there's so much good music out there — people might complain about there not being good music, but a lot of the time I realize it's actually about my capacity to really take things in. When you get older as well, it's harder to take in new music and to really focus on it and make the effort. As much as it's beautiful to have music that just floors you instantaneously, there is also listening as a practice, you know, focusing as a practice. Creating spaces and environments where you can hone that is special.
SAMPHA wears FULL LOOK by FEAR OF GOD