Inside the world of Maya Law – an exclusive interview

Maya and I arranged to meet at ‘Moorish’ – Norwich’s main falafel joint – for this interview at 1, but both of us are a bit late.

When I finally get there, she’s still nowhere to be seen, so I quickly dash to the ‘Birdcage’ to use their toilet. I open the door and, what do you know, Maya Law’s name, sitting at the top of several others, is staring right back of me on a poster for an upcoming event.

Five minutes later Maya – wearing a baggy burgundy jumper, making her way through the spitting Norwich rain – walks in. Everyone behind the counter gives her a warm welcome. They turn the music down for us and jokingly offer to play Maya’s new album, Her Or Him.

We haven’t even sat down, and yet Maya’s sheer eminence in Norwich is already there to see. This is a place that recognises local musical talent, bursting with a kind of creative, bohemian culture, and the 17-year-old clearly lives at its core.

“Everyone knows each other, so you just – whenever you’re doing a gig you know everyone else who’s there, who’s playing and stuff. Like Zach [Lambert], CABRAKID. People are just very closely knitted together.”

This is what everyone says about Norwich. You could spend five minutes by the markets and spot at least ten familiar faces. For some, that’s a torturous prospect; but for Maya, such connectivity has created a platform from which her musical life thrives. Take It From Me hit over 2,000 plays in less than 24 hours after its release and 4,000 after three days, with hundreds of people bombarding her Twitter mentions, showering praise on the new track.

The starkest illustration came with her album launch last month: a packed venue, all her friends there – alongside many fans – singing the lyrics from Safe and Sound as she rounded off the most memorable set of her life. Maya’s eyes light up at the memory. She smiles and looks at the floor, reflecting on that evening.

“It was the best thing that’s ever happened to me. It was incredible. They’ve done everything for me, and I wouldn’t be doing the things that I’m doing if it wasn’t for them.”

And when I tell her to pick out one moment to relive before she dies, I already know the answer.

“I think it would have to be the album launch. The moment of singing Safe and Sound – the last song of the album – in front of everyone and everyone singing it back to me and holding hands with Allergy Kid. That would be it.”

Everything Maya does appears to be serenaded by other people. I’d met Maya a handful of times before this interview, but this is the first time I’ve seen her without company. One thing struck my mind preparing for this interview: when a gig is done, or her friends have left, and it’s just Maya, in her room – how does it feel?

“I hate it. I’m really, really dependent on company at the moment. I’ve been writing about that a lot. I used to be very content with being alone – like, I loved it, and I could spend hours by myself.

“And then I joined college and surrounded myself with people that I liked, and all of a sudden it was like: I’m going to have to see these people every day. When you go to college and you have that stage where… I had a lot of stuff going on and I needed people to, like, distract me from it.”

And yet, for all its importance, Maya’s relationship with Norwich only tells a fraction of her overall story. Before diving in to music, I wanted to know more about her background, and we immediately go down the path of her Israeli roots.

“My mum is half Israeli and my dad was English, so we were very much split between the two families. Obviously that means I have a very divided culture in terms of – like, I don’t enjoy either culture, because they’re so different. And you have to deal with people being like: ‘Ah you’re half-Israeli’.

“A lot of people have the idea that Israel is very calm, but then you have people just ripping Gaza apart – which is 100% true; I’m not disregarding that. But also, a lot of people don’t take into account that when you’re in Israel it’s not like a calm environment at all.”

Listening to Maya talk about her Israeli background, it becomes clear that this sector of her life has been more influential than anything when it comes to forming the girl that sits in front of me right now. It’s an area she explores in great detail, doing so a slightly sombre manner. Such a background, she notes, has even had implications for her musical career.

“I was made to realise that, at some point, I was going to have to deal with the whole Israeli thing. I had a meeting with this guy – he’s sort of like a manager – and he said: ‘I don’t want to bring anything negative into this but you’re going to need to deal with the whole Israel thing.’ And suddenly I was like: Uh, I’m going to have to deal with this ‘disadvantage’.”

This is a gloomy upshot of Maya’s dual heritage, and one that I didn’t expect. But as the interview goes on I begin to realise that this duality embedded in Maya’s persona makes sense in the context of her music.

There are, of course, two parts to each person: one that everyone sees – a kind of modified, public face. And then there’s the real part – the part we struggle to show to anyone but ourselves. But as you listen to Her Or Him, that authenticity – that raw, truly powerful part of Maya’s personality – comes to life, so much so that the Maya I hear singing feels like an entirely different person to the Maya sitting in front of me, smiling and leaning back in her chair, talking in a half-engaged, half-relaxed manner.

“Really?” She says upon hearing this, in a higher tone than usual. In the 30 minutes that we’ve been speaking, this statement has pricked her attention the most. She leans slightly forward and looks at me for a moment, simultaneously fascinated and reflective, weighing the idea up in her head.

“I don’t know… I don’t get that vibe – maybe it’s because… yeah I’m definitely more comfortable when I’m singing, so even if I’ve had a bad day I’ll have a gig and it’ll all suddenly be fine. It’s always a happy place, regardless of what’s going on.

“I think the most important thing is that you make sure it’s your own voice and then people will like it.”

For most people, music is an outlet – a place to escape and, to paraphrase a really overused and corny Bob Marley quote, feel no pain. And for Maya, music has given her a chance to explore herself, to make sense of her own world. Perhaps this is why she views Take It From Me – a song that explores the struggles of growing up as a bisexual – as “special.”

“I remember writing the line in Take It From Me that is the ‘gay’ one and, um, being like: wow, I’d never say that in front of anyone but I’ve written it down. I remember singing it out loud.

“I was sent the instrumental, I sang along to it, and the first thing that came out was that line. It was something that I was hiding for a while. But I’m proud that I did it eventually. I think when you start speaking the truth it comes out very easily.”

For a while, though, it wasn’t easy.

“I think it was something I internally struggled with because I’m not very patient and I wanted to know what I was now, but I had to wait to figure it out.

“I was never bullied in high school or anything like that. I think sexuality is something very difficult to explain in terms of the fact that I could say I’m bisexual, and I could go for hours explaining how I feel about each person, but it’s never very specific.”

But music, she notes, provided a clearer, more refined understanding of her own sexuality.

“Writing it down and seeing everything that I thought was much easier.”

This is, at least in my opinion, what characterises Her or Him above anything: an unreserved, truly crystalline reflection of Maya herself, brought to life by a voice mixed with intensity and blunt sentiment.

But it should be noted that Her Or Him was not crafted by Maya alone. When I mention Allergy Kid, one half of CABRAKID and creator of the instrumentals for each song on the album, her eyes light up once again.

“Allergy Kid is the most incredible man that I’ve ever met. He’s so talented. He makes that whole thing (the instrumentals for Her or Him) and he does it so quickly.

“And once we’d finished it I’d tweeted asking for people to send me instrumentals and he just sent me loads more and said: ‘I’m your instrumentals guy; don’t get them from anywhere else.’ And now he’s at Bristol studying music production and, um, hopefully we’ll be involved together. He’s so talented.”

So, what next for Maya? And what next for Allergy Kid? Will they end up making more music together?

“Well I’ve got this new thing happening at the moment. Like, I don’t think I can speak about it too much right now. I’ve already spoken to people about Allergy Kid still being involved because I wouldn’t like to be alone – he’s like the best person ever.”

But whatever happens next, Maya can look back on the past year and smile.

“I wasn’t going anywhere,” she says when I ask her to sum up where she was this time last year, shaking her head slightly. “I was not doing anything productive at all. I was doing – I was recording shitty acoustic songs on my Mac and putting them out. And if I got 100 plays I’d be happy.”

And where, I ask, is she now?

“Now I have an album and I’m going to do this thing that’s really cool that I can’t talk about,” she responds, almost disbelieving of it herself. “There’s more music coming with different people and it should be very big and exciting. Hopefully next summer. There’ll be something out.”

Listening to Maya talk about ‘this thing’, you sense that Her Or Him is far from her zenith, but perhaps just the start of something bigger.

By Leo Nieboer, 18 (@leo_nieboer)

Follow Maya here: @mayalxw 

Listen to Her or Him for free here 

Buy Her or Him for £4 here 

 

 

Introducing… The Garden

Born eight minutes apart, twin brothers Fletcher and Wyatt Shears have been pretty much inseparable since birth. It was this innate companionship that first led to a band named The Identical Heads which since then evolved into what we now know as The Garden.

The Garden is a band that pretty much escapes all genres, though conceptual punk is where it’s at, if it needed to be somewhere. But The Garden are so much more than that. They are special in a way unlike any other, for it is not so much that they create undefinable music, but that this music comes as an aural extension of a whole made-up universe, a personal philosophy and genre called Vada-Vada. Everything the brothers create comes out of the Vada-Vada, sometimes this simply means “a creature in own its habitat doing its own thing” while at others it has been defined as “an idea that represents pure creative expression, (something) that disregards all previously made genres and ideals”.

Vada-Vada was born out of a childhood obsession with Alvin Schwartz’s cult storybook Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark and the horrific and controversial illustrations by Stephen Gammell that accompany it. And so it is that narrative becomes a large part of the brothers’ creative process, forming images and characters to occupy their strange fabricated reality. There is Aunt J, Eight Foot Tall Man, Paperclip and The Face. While this visual process might evade some people’s understanding, it is from this curious conceptualism that The Garden’s music thrives.

The music is dirty, raw and unstable, a frantic concoction of bass and drums that is forever evolving, abrupt, depraved and seductive. But these qualities along with the strange nuances of the Vada-Vada aren’t lost on everyone, for following the release of their new album Haha on October 10th with Epitaph/Burger Records the band will set out on a world tour. For The Garden’s live shows have become acclaimed for being furiously urgent and experimental. They avoid explanation as they draw their Vada-Vada universe closer and closer.

The video for All Smiles Over Here, the first track to be released from the new album offers a different and more sedate experience of this fantasy universe. Orange County becomes a hallucinogenic and slightly sinister playground for a drum beat that won’t quit and vocals of angry authority. Of the other tracks already released Egg stands out, for while Haha brings to mind Warmduscher’s debut Salamander, Egg takes us somewhere else entirely. It is less furious, more contemplative and without that distracting electronic quality, in other words it is more real.


The Garden live in a world apart. They make their own and live how they like, their philosophy being something beautiful – “I don’t know why you would force yourself to grow up”.


by Poppy Frean, 18 (google her!)

A Culture Guide (for any emotion you might be feeling) – LDN, September 2015

Feeling…

😰💔 Disheartened by the ongoing refugee crisis and growing anti-immigrant sentiment?

Adopting Britain at the Southbank Centre

This highly topical, interactive exhibition at the Southbank Centre delves into the contribution and experiences of immigrants in the UK’s recent history. Subject matter spans from exploring the music of former asylum-seeker M.I.A, to dispelling the myth that Britain’s Polish community is only a recent phenomenon. Closing this weekend and free to all!

http://www.southbankcentre.co.uk/whatson/adopting-britain-1000878

🎺💃🌍 Groovy?

Tony Allen Review at the Southbank Centre

The Southbank Centre’s Africa Utopia festival is refreshing in its celebration of the music and art of a continent whose culture is often eclipsed by its socio-economic struggles. With a vibrant and varied programme, the highlight is a performance by the legendary Tony Allen – drummer to the late Fela Kuti, who also boasts collaborations with Jarvis Cocker, and being a longtime inspiration to Damon Albarn, demonstrating his versatility and artistic longevity. In addition to Allen’s funk and highlife, Toumani Diabaté will be performing traditional music from Mali (the little-known genre is impressively, but rather poignantly, the forerunner to Southern American blues) and French rapper Oxmo will provide a contemporary aspect with his socially-conscious rap music.

Sunday 13th September. Tickets from £15. Concessions available.

http://www.southbankcentre.co.uk/whatson/tony-allen-review-93077

💸 Strapped for cash?

The Colour of Money Film Season at the Barbican

This film season at the Barbican is dedicated to the contentious topic of money, with films and debates discussing themes such as inequality, bonded-labour, greed, and crime. Screenings range from classics such as American Psycho to lesser-known films like Hyenas by Senegalese master of cinematography Djibril Diop Mambety. At £5 per ticket for under-26s the price is pretty reasonable too.

7th-20th September. Tickets start at £5.

http://www.barbican.org.uk/film/series.asp?id=1492

🎬🇫🇷 Like an introduction to urban French cinema?

Screening of La Haine and Girlhood at Oval Space

La Haine and Girlhood, two instant-classic, art-house films, which provide an insight into the gritty reality of Paris’ suburbs, will be screened back-to-back next Friday. Released 20 years apart, both follow a tight-knit group of emotionally-detached youths, while discussing a myriad of social issues as diverse as their cast.

Friday 11th September. £8. French with subtitles.

http://www.ovalspace.co.uk/events/view/oval-space-cinema-presents-la-haine-and-girlhood/

Abiba, 18 is your culture guru

DIY – the scene that creates itself

EASY LINKS FOR WOULD BE DIY-ERS

Why the best way to fight capitalism is to put on free gigs:

Live music is a blessing so it is no wonder that since the birth of punk in the 1970s, people have been doing it themselves; putting on their own shows and creating their own scenes regardless of the conventions of the mainstream. D.I.Y was born as a rejection of consumerism, an attempt to create something pure, something uncorrupted by the greed of the music industry. Today, we see a return to this ideology. 2014 alone saw the closure of such seminal venues as The Blind Tiger in Brighton, The Cockpit in Leeds, as well as The Peel, Madame JoJo’s and Buffalo Bar in London. With more and more live venues closing down people are seeking an alternative, taking things into their own hands, and doing it for love rather than money.

D.I.Y music is about self-sufficiency. It is recording, producing and marketing your own music, booking your own shows and doing your own merch; all with limited means. A great example of this is Royal Forest, an experimental band from Austin, Texas. Their album Spillway is a combination of field recordings, the locations of which comprise of an aeroplane flying over Texas, the depths of a WWII submarine and the midst of a lightning storm in the Monahan Sandhills. The band recorded, produced and released the album themselves on their own D.I.Y label, King Electric.

However, arguably the most exciting thing about D.I.Y music is the D.I.Y scene it inevitably creates. America seems to be thriving with such at the moment; Speedy Ortiz heralding from Boston’s scene, while Twin Peaks emerge from Chicago’s. The consensus of such bands is that D.I.Y creates a community that is inclusive, stimulating and above all supportive. Yet D.I.Y is not confined to the wide streets, large houses and cavernous basements of America. Leeds saw the birth of Eagulls (pedantically described as ‘post-punk’ (a word that thoroughly annoys me and is in need of a replacement immediately)) in dubious house shows and basement gigs. Furthermore the band’s first release Songs of Prey was on cassette, a D.I.Y medium that is far from obsolete. Looking back to the Riot Grrrl movement of the early 1990s, cassettes like zines were a rejection of consumerism and an embrace of communal creativity. Burger Records (“the answer to what happened to Rock ‘n Roll” Kim Fowley) follows this ideal, releasing music on cassette and unknowingly reinvigorating the format. The label began as a way to put out the music of their own band Thee Makeout Party as well as their friends’ Audacity. Now they have over 500 artists on cassette, even reissuing long lost masterpieces like Roky Erickson’s Evil One, as well as continuing to support Orange County’s thriving garage scene.


So what about London? Where’s the D.I.Y ethic, this communal goodness? Well the answer is everywhere, especially in the South East; you just have to know where to look. The Fat Whites’s notorious Slide-In was my introduction to the scene. Suddenly, I realised live music didn’t have to be confined to the protocols of specified venues; that in actuality a pub, a basement, a living room provided the exact right kind of claustrophobic excitement that live music thrives off. As I went to more and more gigs I began to see the community inherent to the music, and experience the belonging it fostered. Now I could distinguish Bat-Bike from Meatraffle, Telegram from Sleaze, Pit-Ponies from Phobophobes (all names which never fail to amuse my parents).

In 2012 the Live Music Act declared that live performances in venues holding fewer than 200 people could be staged without a special entertainment license. This was an attempt to claw back the diminishing and ever necessary D.I.Y scene. January of this year saw Independent Venue Week, a celebration of small music venues across the country. While Palma Violets took on Scunthorpe (er – that’s a town in North Lincolnshire apparently?) the Fat Whites returned to Brixton, to The Windmill.

However London’s D.I.Y scene is not confined to the growing yuppie kingdom of Brixton. There’s Steez, the non-profit art community whose monthly gigs are predominately held at the Fox and Firkin in Lewisham (sign the petition to save it y’all). They preach that everyone’s art deserves a place in which it can be nurtured for real, without the profiteering, just for the love, the ethic at the heart of D.I.Y. There’s Mickey Smith, the founder of the Chronic Love Foundation, there’s Rye Wax, there’s Trashmouth Records and there is any number of D.I.Y families I have yet the fortune to discover. 

So why write this article? Apart from my general enthusiasm, the rationale lies in going to arguably the first show true D.I.Y show I have ever seen. It was Thee MVPs 2.5th D.I.Y show (the 0.5 attributed to the fact it was the first venture outside of the MVP house in Hackey Wick). It was BYOB, £4 for four bands (The Whig Whams, Ex’s, Thee MVPs and Twin Peaks (the latter two of which both have music out on cassette – hook it up)) and it was in godforsaken Bow Church. The show was organised by Thee MVPs frontman Charlie Wyatt in a rehearsal space under a gloomy railway arch. It was here that I got to taste the real blood of true D.I.Y. This wasn’t a pub, or a specified venue, it was a space utilised because the bands wanted to play. It wasn’t about money or overpriced pints; for once it was truly just about the music. Stripped of the barriers and high stages of larger spaces, the audience and the artist merged. As Twin Peaks’ Cadien Lake James said I just prefer it, there’s no obligations no sound guys, no techies and no stage, just us and the crowd connecting like friends with no separation.’ So it was that as the screaming vocals of Twin Peaks filled up room and I fought for the better position with the Whig Whams lead, forbearing to save my now thoroughly bruised knees from the edge of the stage. The crowd was righteously inexhaustible, the confined space exasperating their excitement and aggression. Where Charlie Wyatt had bent his body over in tight embrace of his guitar, then jumped into the crowd to stage dive, Twin Peaks were slightly more reserved though nonetheless vigorous in delivering song after song of garage-punk and rock ‘n roll. Somehow it was completely different from any other show I had been to, it was emphatically independent; more like a house party than a gig, the merging of the bands with their audience more natural and complete.


Thus it seems D.I.Y is far from over. It’s everywhere, it just needs to be found, supported, celebrated and loved. With the dominance of consumer culture forever being forced down our throats, it is now more important than ever to nurture these little moments that are outside of the logic of capitalism. So go out and find some D.I.Y music, even better start something yourself. Embrace the D.I.Y ethic, do something you love, forget about the money and start living.


written by poppy, 18, LDN

Rock music and politics – Fat Whites

Fat Whites – I’m not going to go on about how dirty and tired they all look – it’s not their most interesting characteristic. Even if it is relevant, doesn’t it only add to their appeal? Isn’t rock and roll, at its core, supposed to scare and shock and break? SHouldn’t it be mandatory to always be half naked, advisory to masturbate on stage – desirable to smother yourself in shit during a show?!?

The music itself is beautiful. Though they’ve only released one album (Champagne Holocaust) and some EPs (the bizarre, compelling Wet Hot Beef is my fave); there is impressive variety between tracks. Take the slow, intensely repetitive hum of Auto Neutron against the frenzied pop of Is It Raining In Your Mouth? The guitar can be jangly (Without Consent) and the lyrics often provocative – take Cream of the Young: your fifteen year old tongue… yet clearly funny when i look at your face, although it’s rather small.

Their energy and ambiance is at its best live, yet recorded the Fat Whites are also capable of stirring up feelings you didn’t even know you had – frustrations, urges and definitely anger.

The band themselves fill me with hope. Other artists lack a desire to use their influence to spread political or social messages. Harrison Koisser of Peace almost laughed the suggestion of being political off; but Fat White Family are outspoken and driven. Their last Slide In was in aid of Palestine and their infamous ‘The Witch Is Dead’ banner made headlines upon Thatcher’s death. Politics seems to have gone out of fashion, with the decline in support for New Labour perhaps, but Fat White Family could just help bring back political issues to the people to whom politics should matter most.


written in August, 2014