When Nilüfer Yanya visits Ireland in a few weeks, it promises to be a homecoming to remember. “My nan is buried in a cemetery in Dún Laoghaire,” reveals the up-and-coming indie artist. “Hopefully I’ll get a chance to see her. It’s very peaceful.”
For the 26-year-old west Londoner, identity and belonging are complicated subjects. Her father is Turkish, her mother Bajan-Irish. On top of that she is a female musician from a minority background operating in the white, male-dominated world of independent rock. And so, as she prepares to release her sublime new album, Painless on Friday, March 4th, and looks forward to a tour that will see her take the ferry to Dublin and her grandmother’s final resting place, her feelings are in a jumble.
She’s conflicted, especially, about the country in which she grew up. Together with her elder sister, filmmaker Molly Daniel, Yanya operates a volunteer initiative, Artists in Transit, which holds creatives workshops for refugee children (Daniel is also her sibling’s official photographer). And yet in Britain attitudes towards refugees at a governmental level have never been more hostile. She wonders sometimes if the UK really is a place for her anymore.
“What is there in this country that I want to set my future in?” she says. “Or that I want to invest in as a person? If this keeps going on the way it does . . . It’s very hostile.”
The secret to getting inside Yanya’s propulsive, emotionally gory alternative pop is understanding she is an outsider. She is reminded of this all the time, in many different ways. Because of her bi-racial background, people in the industry often incorrectly assume, for instance, that she makes r ‘n’ b.
“Sometimes people say r ‘n’ b or pop,” says Yanya. “It’s definitely not r’n b. When someone says that it feels like I’m taking up space from another artist.”
Double standard
Then there is the fact she is a woman who plays guitar. When she toured several years ago with Interpol, the dapper, doomy alternative quartet from New York, she was struck by the awe directed at that group’s guitarist. As a female musician she has never received anything approaching that sort of reverence. Not that she would want it anyway, but hero-worship is clearly just for the boys.
Yet at the same time, Yanya feels this isn’t something you can pin entirely on music. It is a wider issue. “There is still a double standard. There’s still not equality,” she says. “[But] when it comes to being an artist, it comes with more of a choice. I can be as laid back as I want. I can dress up if I want. It’s about remembering you have a choice. You don’t have to look a certain way if you don’t want to. If the main thing is the music, people coming to the show don’t care [how you look]. It can be hard to remember that. You can put a lot of pressure on yourself.”
Painless is a lockdown album with a difference. A vehicle for Yanya’s demonstrative voice and taut, sinewy writing, it’s a long way from gloomy and low-key. Instead, it is vividly visceral – full of fervour and urgency and with a big pop energy that packs an irresistible punch.
That thrilling jitteriness is combined with an ear for evocative lyrics. The single Stabilise, for instance, uses the image of a deserted cityscape as a metaphor for spiritual turmoil. Or, as Yanya sings over a nerve-shredding student disco jangle, “There’s nothing out there/For you and me/ I’m going nowhere/Until it bleeds.” For anyone with a functioning set of eardrums, goosebumps are a foregone conclusion.
Fear of flying
If not yet a household name, there is a sense Yanya is riding a swell of momentum years in the making. Rolling Stone praised her 2019 debut Miss Universe for its mix of “scuzzy rock” and “pinprick funk”; Pitchfork has hailed her a “London pop prodigy” whose “breezy” songs “fold the edges of indie rock against pop”.
Not that the journey has been entirely smooth. Nobody was jumping with glee when Covid struck. But Yanya was ready for a break, having toured Miss Universe for so long she developed a low-key phobia of flying (inspiring Crash her 2020 EP Feeling Lucky?) And yet lockdown brought little relief. Truth be told, in those first few months, as a great hush settled over everything, she had trouble staying motivated.
“I didn’t feel very creative. I didn’t have any inspiration. It wasn’t until I started working with producers again [that she rediscovered her enthusiasm]. For the first year, I didn’t even feel like it, if I’m being honest.”
Today, speaking from her rehearsal studios, there is little trace of despondency in her voice. She’s chipper and chatty. And excited to put out a new album and go back on tour (including that Whelan’s Dublin date on Saturday, March 12th). However, she still finds the stage a somewhat unnatural environment – a high-wire act to be negotiated, where there is always a possibility of losing your balance.
“I feel like I’m not really in control of what happens,” she says “I don’t speak too much to crowds. I’m quite reserved.”
Skin colour
Going on the road is an adventure. It’s also a reminder of the assumptions people leap to based on your skin colour. “You don’t think about it too much when you’re in London. You go to other places and people see you’re white [skinned]. And they assume you’re white. And they assume other things. And if I go to Turkey, because my name is Turkish, lots of people will assume I’m Turkish. In Europe, they’ll think I’m Turkish.
“It is strange, once you leave. When I’m in London, it is a bit of a bubble, because everyone is from everywhere. I didn’t think about it too much. It’s just now, becoming an adult I guess [that she has started to think about the subject]. Realising things . . . In America, people just don’t mix as much [and so are much more focused on race]. And my label is in America.”
The release of a new album has meanwhile caused Yanya to consider once again how different the rules can be for female singers. And reminded her of the importance of knowing where to draw the line. As a young artist, the most powerful word is “no”.
“Most of the stuff I’ve done outside music, it’s been something I’ve been in control of. If it’s something like a photoshoot – editorial or magazine stuff – I do feel, ‘Oh this is a bit different’. You can be . . . not a different person. Maybe you feel, ‘I’m going to have fun with this.’ But I’ve definitely said, ‘that’s not going to work’. If you’re not careful it is very easy to be swayed by other people. You need to put your foot down somewhere.”
Painless is released on March 4th. Nilüfer Yanya plays Whelan’s in Dublin on Saturday, March 12th
