Abend(b)rot

By Ngozi Nwadiogbu

 

Up-and-coming artist Murielle is taking some time in Berlin to get to know herself and the new direction her music is taking her in. Throughout our conversation, the existential crisis-inducing question of “who are you?” came up many times. Germany, it seems, has made her more comfortable with not having all the answers.

 

How would you define the music that you make?

 

My problem has been pre-defining my music before even making it and feeling it out. For a long time I said R&B. I’m definitely R&B influenced through my voice, but at one point I had this awakening where I thought “I’m an Afrobeat artist.” All last year I thought that, and then I realized that’s not who I am. So when people ask me now I just say I’m R&B and soul influenced with the styles I gravitate toward, with melodies, and the way I sing. I bring in other influences though, I’ve been playing with electronic. I’m still in the process. Like live drums or not? Synth or piano? Figuring out what your sound is takes time.

 

What would you say is the best way for an artist to find their voice or their unique place in the music industry?

 

I think being confident in what you’re making and taking the time to be confident in what you’re making is important. People are so quick to want to release but it’s quality over quantity, not just release, release, release. It takes time. Like, I don’t think anyone really knows who they are as an artist until later. Unless you’re like Lorde and really fucking lucky. The people I see myself looking up to and listening to a lot, oh my god, their pen is so honest. Everything they’ve written down shows they’ve been through it. They believe in their music and in themselves, their experiences. They’ve overcome them or are overcoming them and are so comfortable with those experiences that they’re willing to share. Like SZA’s album is a diary. If you really look into every single one of the songs, she’s really telling you what she was feeling, what she went through in those years. She’s like 28 now. Solange is 31. NAO is 29. Lianne La Havas, who I really love, is in the same range. Issa Rae. All these people are popping off. Man, your 30s are your 20s.

You get closer to it as you get older. With life comes experiences, and you need experiences in order to write. Lauryn Hill? I always go back to her. She’s someone who’s an older soul, probably has lived a few lives. She had been through a lot by the time she was 24, she had already had her first child. So if you watch these interviews where she lectures people, she has been through it. That’s why she was able to write that way. We have not been through the half of it at 19, 20 years old. We still have shit to talk about and write about, but the hunk of it? Being able to write about your shit retrospectively and communicate that through your art? Are you kidding me? We have not reached final form.

I definitely agree that vulnerability and a willingness to share are super important to really good, honest music. How have these things factored into your own process and self-discovery?

 

For my first two years at Clive I was so excited to just be here. I had always been performing. There was a point in time where I had so much stage fright, around the time when Michael Jackson passed away, and I was like “why have I stopped singing in front of people?” I used to sing in front of people others when I was five and then I hit these mid-childhood years where I got really shy and was insecure about it. But then I realized no, I want to do what Michael Jackson did. How could he make people faint and cry through his body and through his words and through his songs? I wanted to be able to do that and I just needed to start, so literally from age thirteen I was like “how do I get on stage?” Choir, musical theater, dance. Then I got to Clive and I kept being like “how do I do this?” I was onstage all the time. I did backing vocals for people’s shows, I sang at our end of year concert, I sang at South by Southwest. I performed at the Tisch Gala and had Randy Jackson come up and praise me. When I was six years old I thought Randy Jackson was going to discover me on American Idol and now he’s standing in front of me at 20 telling me this. And then everything just ended. The school year ended and then with it, all that hype just came down in May. Nothing followed up and I just sat there and wondered what I was doing wrong. And then I had a realization this summer. I was like “I don’t know who I am.” And the reason nothing has come through was because literally the universe, or God or whatever you want to call it, was telling me “you are not ready.” I just wasn’t ready because I hadn’t addressed a lot of the things I had been through. I wasn’t writing honestly.

 

I used to think I loved the aspect of writing for other people and about their experiences. But it was my form of escapism from whatever I was going through or whatever I was feeling that I didn’t want to address. Once I realized that I went to the people I look up to, the people I idolize. My favorite works of theirs have always been when they have come to terms with who they are and what they want to express. Janet Jackson’s Rhythm Nation, where she talked about politics, about how the world was making her feel. Lauryn Hill with “To Zion,” about how people told me to abort her baby. Beyonce with Lemonade, saying “this is what I’ve seen my mother, grandmother, black women experience.” Solange, “this is what I feel.” SZA, “this is what I feel.” I could keep going. Alicia. Michael Jackson’s “Man in the Mirror,” there’s a reason I love that song.

 

So I was like, okay step back, how do you address your own emotions? I knew I had to stop acting like I was okay all the time. If I’m not okay, I’m not okay. That doesn’t mean I’m going to be making sad girl shit all the time. Being honest with myself was the first step to figuring out who I am, or was, or will be as an artist. This performance we’re doing? It will literally be the first time that I’ll be singing a song that I truly feel. Every lyric I wrote is how I really felt. It’s going to be weird.

 

How has Berlin fit into your development as an artist? Do you think it’s made you more honest?

 

Getting to know yourself in a different context is so important. I got to know myself in New York. I got to know myself in the D.C. area. I got to know myself, when I was ten, in Minnesota and I got to know myself in London because my parents moved there. Coming to Berlin you just get to know yourself in a different context which makes you a little bit more introspective. Berlin has taught me a lot just through interactions with people. It’s tested what I thought I already knew about myself, my ability to be organized and my self-confidence being one of the few women of color and still having to feel good about yourself when everything on the outside is telling you not to. It’s tested me in the way of asking “how much do you truly love yourself, how much do you truly put yourself first?”

 

On the music side of things, too. I always knew I loved electronic and house music. I mean I always talk about NAO but I love Mura Masa, I love Cashmere Cat, I just love deep house and techno and shit. But I always loved house I guess because of that R&B influence. So coming to this city and going to OHM or Renate, and listening and being like “fuck, I can incorporate this into my music!” You know, it’s not so foreign anymore. Coming to Berlin made me realize I can put this in with my R&B vocals and issa bop! It feels good. It taught me what else I could be inspired by. I’m so grateful that I came here. I’ve learned so much about myself that I didn’t know I needed to know! It’s so important to be tested. I’ve just had a lot of beautiful experiences here that I’m really happy for.

 

Check out Murielle on Instagram!