“Finding your sound and giving up”, an open letter by Haneri
Photo credit: Nat Ho
I’ve been making up songs since I was probably 3 years old. My little sister is a year younger than me and me making up little melodies always seemed to make her happy, so I constantly had a captive audience who seemed to enjoy my little performances.
Growing up, I lived in a culture where children were meant to be seen and not heard. We were meant to be aids for our parents and to take our education seriously. Our goals were to become successful for our parents and for our next generation. There was no room for feelings. I want to say it was stifling, but in all honesty I was just so accustomed to the social norm I never felt it (you can’t miss an emotion you’ve never had... right?)
But as I grew up, I realized that music made me feel things I had not yet explored. Every chord, ever beat, created explosions in my heart and in my mind that tempted to move me, physically or psychologically and it was an experience like no other. When Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance With Somebody” or the opening number in Aladdin came on I couldn’t control it. I wanted to be a part of it. I was a part of it.
Fast forward a few years into getting to know myself, I realized that music was helping me explore emotions in the most honest way possible. In a way I had never allowed myself in my day to day life. No one was bringing them out of me, I felt them for myself. No one was manipulating these feelings, I was falling in love for the first time- with music.
It was never a thing to do where I grew up: 1. Feeling things/exploring your emotions and 2. Wanting to become a musician. So you can imagine my parents were not thrilled at the idea of me wanting to take this on full time, and yet they would ask me to perform for their friends constantly. I’m sure they hoped it would just be a fun hobby for me that I would eventually give up or at least not try to do professionally. And friends, I should have. Being an independent artist in this industry with no team at all (just a whole group of great friends and a distribution company that I’m so incredibly grateful for) has been a challenge no one could have prepared me for.
One of my biggest challenges on this journey was trying to define my ‘sound’. I grew up listening to the greats like Mariah Carey, Whitney Houston, Celine Dion and watching them as a little girl in my room with my headphones on, my walkman blasting and probably singing at the top of my lungs all the ways away in a little island called Singapore, I always thought I needed to have a particular sound that set the stage for my music. To be recognizable. Was it a look? Was it a sound? And as I got older and understood a little more about music- was is a sample, was it the producer I worked with? Or the co-writers I chose to work with? All of these questions consumed me as life took over and at the age of 25, I was diagnosed with stage 1C dysgerminoma - a rare form of ovarian cancer.
Many other events occurred in that period of time, but let’s stay focused: the SOUND. Prior to getting sick I had started recording vocals for some Electronic Dance Music (EDM). It was my introduction to EDM as I had spent a majority of my life listening and writing either pop music or folky singer-songwriter-y type music. At first it seemed like a fun thing to do on the side for some extra pocket money, I didn’t have to write anything- I’d show up to the session, learn the song, track vocals and get a vocal fee. Easy peasy. But I soon started making little changes to melodies or changing words (when I was asked or it was open for me to do) at recording sessions and getting small cuts on songs which, I’ll be honest with you was little to no money, but it did kick up my confidence in writing on this newly discovered genre.
Soon I was writing EDM, pop, folk, really anything I could get my hands on while I was going through chemo. It was something to do when I didn’t really have the strength to do anything else and it made me happy. All those were good things but on the con side, I was more confused than ever about what my sound was supposed to be.
Soon after finishing chemo, I met a wonderful boy who showed me things about love and myself that I never would have been able to find without him in my life. He was a producer and was bent on authenticity and I will always be grateful for him engraining the idea that I didn’t have to settle for a sound. That I could and should make music that speaks to me, as long as it was and is an embodiment of who I am.
Photo credit: Adam Tun-Aung
It’s taken a long time to really understand what that meant and I’m still learning it everyday because allowing your sound to evolve and change and be more ‘you’ means leaning into the uncertainty of who you are. I’m not sure if I’m doing a good job at explaining this but some steps I’ve taken to getting there is:
- Not letting people in my space who have proven they don’t want to be there, guilt me for them being there, trying to stay and put me down or basically anyone who makes me feel negatively about myself. (Even when you’re wrong, the people in your space that you let in should want to help you grow and learn, and not make you feel bad about your mistakes. We feel bad enough about our mistakes)
- Listen to whatever the hell I want. What you put into your body and mind and spirit is what you’ll put back out. Also music is so healing- so go ham.
- Be careful with what you put in front of your eyes. Listen to yourself, when you’re uncomfortable with what you’re witnessing, do something about it. Walk away or say something but don’t be held victim to a circumstance that you can change.
- MAKE LOTS OF MUSIC, it’s all you, it’s your voice, your heart. You are allowed to hate it or dislike it after you’ve made it. But you can only learn your best if you can look at it or listen to it and pick what you like and don’t and move forward accordingly.
- Make lots of music with friends (More heads are better than one)
- Go on walks or do anything that keeps you active
- Get a dog (this is obviously optional but it changed my life!)
The root of all this is, the more you know yourself, the more honest you can be with yourself and in turn the people around you. Be it in your music or in your personal life. I’m pushing myself in this direction because life is already so complicated. If we could just say how we feel and know how to communicate how we feel in a kind, loving and understanding way (again, to ourselves and others) I feel like that will make everyone a little happier and hopefully make this world a better place.
One last take away I’d like to add: even if you get everything right, there will be bad days. That’s the nature of the life thing. And it’s totally ok. I’m currently writing this after a badass week of interviews, my new song being released and spending time with quality friends. It started on SUCH a high but honestly right now in this moment I feel really sad. But I also know I can just turn some kick ass music on, call my friends, grab a drink and keep going. The trick isn’t to get to the finish line, it’s to enjoy ourselves on the way there.
Be you. Don’t give up.
Sending love, Haneri
Stream “Y Didn’t You Say So” here