Nilüfer Yanya, the 26-year-old indie singer and guitarist from London, is the embodiment of modesty fifteen minutes early in an Amsterdam café. Even in her comfortable sweater and with a messy bun on her head, she is instantly recognizable. She has the same wavering modesty as the night before, when she played the stars of heaven in a sold-out Paradiso Noord.
Yanya released her acclaimed debut in 2019 Miss Universe out, an album full of impressive guitar playing, performed by a young woman with a warm but bruised voice who sings about broken hearts, dreams and promises. She quickly became the darling of music critics, from an interview in The New York Times to the rare listing 8.3 from the strict music platform Pitchfork† The album released in March painless has been received even more enthusiastically than her debut.
The success story is in stark contrast to the introverted, searching person sitting at the cafe table, searching so carefully and patiently for answers. Or as she sings herself in The Dealer: ‘I need some time to work out who this is, I need to know now who I’m dealing with. That’s the kind of patience that breaks your heart.’ (“I need time to figure out who this is, who I’m dealing with. This is the kind of patience that breaks your heart.”)
How can an artist who seems to doubt himself so much be so productive? In the past four years, Yanya released three great projects: in addition to her two albums, in 2021 there was also the EP Inside Out† Her need to always be productive is part of being an artist, although she would like to take a little more time for her projects. ‘I feel guilty when I’m not productive, to compensate I work fast and a lot. Afterwards I sometimes wonder whether that leads to the best work.’
She attributes this guilt to the inner critical voice she hears when she is not creating. “The less I create, the louder the voice gets that says I can’t do it, but as long as I keep making it, she stays silent.” She does not know whose voice it is, but she is not entirely ungrateful to her. ‘As a result, I constantly challenge myself and look at myself critically.’
Anesthesia
painless is about the pain that comes with feeling nothing, suppressing the numbness of your feelings. ‘Since my EP I haven’t been able to write anything for a long time, I haven’t had any deep feelings that urged me to make music. Only when I started working with my producer Will Archer (producer of, among others, Jessie Ware, Sudan Archives and Celeste, red.), everything came together. The lack of feeling was a great source of inspiration for this album.’
She is frustrated that artists are often expected to suffer suffering before their work. ‘The more pain, the more the media and the public absorb the work. You also see it in talent shows on television, where they edit sad music to the life story of a candidate. While creativity can also come from a safe and happy state of mind. The romanticization of the tortured artist can lead to dangerous situations.’ She can now be heard on the song Boys in Movies by the Danish band Liss, who lost their 25-year-old frontman Søren Holm last year.
From an early age, Yanya was urged to be creative. Her Turkish father is a visual artist and her Barbadian mother would have liked to become a professional pianist. ‘Her parents didn’t allow her, so she encouraged me to go to school. From the age of 10 to 18 I sometimes played the piano for three to four hours a day. I mainly did that to keep my mother happy.’
She also picked up the guitar when she was 14, but she couldn’t manage to play the piano every day. It was therefore natural that she would study at the prestigious Goldsmith College in London, the school of fine arts and social sciences where, among others, Damon Albarn (Blur, Gorillaz) and John Cale (The Velvet Underground) studied. But Yanya decided to put a stop to it. ‘I purposely filled out my application forms sloppy and probably didn’t even get accepted for an audition because of that. My mother was shocked that I had been rejected after all these years of studying. I have not yet dared to confess that it was deliberate sabotage.’
It shows her conflict-averse nature, a trait you wouldn’t expect when hearing her music. ‘I try to avoid confrontations in daily life as much as possible. Music is the only place where I can honestly say how I feel, it’s a form of rebellion for me.’
She never blamed her mother for chasing a dream that wasn’t her own. ‘I learned to understand music early on. Many of the melodies I write come from my skills as a pianist. It has brought me to where I am now, although I had to adjust it a bit to make the music I release now.’
It was Yanya’s guitar teacher Dave Okumu, singer and guitarist for the rock band The Invisible and guitarist for Amy Winehouse and Tony Allen, who encouraged her to sing in her teens. ‘He quickly noticed that I was writing lyrics and he said he was sorry that he hadn’t started singing until late in his career. After all, no one can sing my lyrics as well as I can. Not because I have such an interesting voice, but because my voice is tailor-made for my lyrics.’
Authenticity
However, authenticity does not exist, according to Yanya. “Everything I make is something I’ve heard somewhere and I’m playing it wrong. I think that’s what making music is. You hear a melody and years later you play your own version of it, while you no longer know where you know that melody from.’
Finally, she gives her definition of authenticity: ‘That you don’t have to ask permission for your creation, without reason or external reason. That no one has asked for your work, but that you still feel the need to make it. I think that is the most authentic form of creation. So you don’t limit yourself by measuring the work against a quality yardstick: you make it the way you want it, whether it’s good or bad it doesn’t matter anymore.’
Her music is therefore mainly intended for people like herself. People who find it difficult to stand up for themselves and avoid confrontation, even if she doesn’t have much in her environment. ‘Many people around me are not afraid of confrontations. I seem to be attracted to what I don’t have in myself. It is also a misconception that because I am an artist I am extroverted. Just because I have the confidence to be on stage doesn’t mean I have that confidence in every aspect of my life.”
As soon as the weather allowed, Yanya’s agenda was fully booked with shows. She has just completed a European and American tour, culminating in a performance at the popular Coachella festival. Despite her fully booked live schedule, the stage isn’t necessarily where she feels most comfortable. “Sometimes it feels like a waste of time to keep telling myself I like performing. Live shows are not the reason why I wanted to be a musician. It’s not for nothing that I think my shows get worse the more I do.’
Yanya is the example of an introverted personality who can make the most beautiful music through her attentiveness and sensitivity, but who struggles with what it takes to be an artist: presenting your work and yourself. Making music all her life is the ultimate goal, she finds her comfort zone in the studio and preferably when she is alone. “I’m happy with all the collaborations, but I know that my best work is done when as few people as possible are involved.”
When asked when something is good enough, she replies that she finds it difficult to celebrate her success anyway. “There are plenty of people who deserve success before me, who practiced piano ten hours a day and still haven’t gotten to where I am today, who weren’t born in the same place or given the same opportunities as I was. Luck plays a big part in success.’
Nilufer Yanya will play on Sunday at 5:30 PM at Best Kept Secret, Hilvarenbeek.