Learning How to Tell Stories with Music
Whether I wanted to or not, a profession in writing chose me. If I didn’t decide to do this for a living, I’d still probably end up working in some sort of communications field. I’m sure there’s something in my astrology chart that can explain my fixation with language. I am your classic over-communicator, the “make sure everyone knows exactly how you feel, when you feel it” type, both in writing and in speaking.
But besides writing, I’ve always had some kind of involvement with music. When I was growing up, I studied violin and became fluent in a variety of the classics—Mendelssohn, Bach, Mahler, were my favorites. When I grew older, music continued to play a role in my life, but in a more experimental way. I wanted nothing more than to be free of the rigid confines that classical music was to me. I obsessively made playlists (and continue to this day) that would capture a mood, a sound, an energy. I fancied myself a provider of sounds for any instance—parties, tv shows, films, dinners, you name it.
So last year, I decided to put myself on the spot and give DJing a shot. It was something I’d studied in college, having learned how to scratch with vinyl on turntables, but never picked up after graduating school because I got caught up with just tryna survive. I didn’t think there was room for any art besides my writing, and kinda gave up on expressing myself musically.
Luckily, I eventually became fed up with the pent up energy I felt boiling within me, and bought myself a controller last year with the help of some friends. I started watching tutorials and Boiler Room sets as a form of self care and pleasure, but also as a way to learn.
After a few months of practicing on my own, running my controller through a hack that enabled me to hear myself on bluetooth speakers, I felt ready to start creating soundscapes that others could hear. It was and continues to be for me, first, like any art that I create—sharing it, was just an added bonus.
My first gig was at Blind Barber in the East Village, for Almost Studios first Casual Brenda Social Club. The idea for the party came from Odes’ alter ego, Casual Brenda, a person who just wants everyone to dance, have a good time, and make new friends.
I’ve shared a lot of work that I’ve done over the last 15 years of my life, but sharing my cultivated musical taste was a high I’d never experienced before. To know that my sounds would provide a backdrop for someone’s evening, gave me a grounding feeling I rarely experience with other art forms. It might not be a big deal at all, but there has to be at least 1 other person in any given space who is paying attention to the music, and knowing that alone, gave me a thrill.
I started to think more about why I wanted to put myself in these often dark spaces to play music, and realized that all I wanted, was to feel the exchange of energy, firsthand. I wanted to be the reason someone learned something new about how they express themselves through movement, to engage them in a sweaty ritual of self love that emanates to all their surroundings. I wanted to bring people to tears of joy in the same way I’ve been brought to tears by a moment. I don’t know if I’ve achieved that just yet in the year that I’ve been doing this, but I’m working on it.
In the last year, I’ve spun at nearly 75 different events and venues around New York City, met some incredible humans, and connected with communities I didn’t think I could ever connect with, all through music. I’ve called myself a purveyor of sounds, a sonic seamstress, a musical storyteller. I’ve learned how to sit in anxiety and watched it transform into adrenaline. I’ve learned how to show up to places alone, and enjoy my own company, in the space of others. I’ve become an extremely quick problem solver, panicked in the face of disasters, learned how to have a plan B, and discovered entirely new modes of communication. As someone who works with words, the wordlessness of a house track, or Arabic percussion, and the ideas that each song in a set can represent, provide me with a limitless playground of opportunity for expression. It’s important for me to sit down and write this post because I need to reflect and acknowledge this growth.
Ultimately, none of this would have happened without the help of my friends, and Casual Brenda Social Club. Thank you, thank you so much to this community and to anyone who has supported me since day 1.
This Friday, we celebrate 1 year of community, 1 year of creativity, 1 year of new expression. As you may or may not know, Odes started Almost Studios with the mission of getting friends together to create fun shit, outside the confines of a day job—encouraging us build and create for ourselves. I think each of us has done that in the last year, and I can’t wait to see what we all create in the years to come.
