Oil of Every Pearl’s Un-Insides
Oil of Every Pearl’s Un-Insides, SOPHIE, 2018
Sophie was a visionary. She died this past January after a long fall from a balcony. In her ethereal, exploratory fashion, she was searching for a connection with a full moon when she slipped. It’s a tragedy that matches her unexpected and unconventional life, one that brought both ecstatic smiles and confused brows, always questioning what her creations represent and the life they breath independently.
While this was not SOPHIE’s first project, it was her most official. It was also the first major release that she put out as an open trans-woman. Her friends have said that she felt fear, but she never let it guide her, always opting instead for the ways to fight it, a tendency which brought her music to places others have never imagined.
SOPHIE didn’t use traditional instruments or sounds in order to craft her songs. In fact, listening to most of her songs, it becomes clear that she had an aversion to some types of traditional sounds, instead feeling fascinated by the music that surrounds us in day-to-day life, but which isn’t always recognized as such. These are the squeaks, the crashes, the cracks, the distortions, the unknowns, etc. Because of this, SOPHIE and her contemporary artists, part of what is now called the “hyperpop” scene, don’t feel constrained by guitars, violins, drum sets, or saxophones. Like electronic artists have done for decades, she used synthesizers to synthesize her sounds, often manipulating the sine waves to create ultra-specific qualities. She wanted a mix of what is real, what is yet to be discovered, what is desired, what is hated, what makes us think and what takes us far away. Listening to the song above, “Ponyboy,” is honestly kind of scary the first time you hear it. There are so many sounds (often called noises) that aren’t normally categorized as “musical.” To feel the true genius, you have to ingest it for what it is: experimentation. It isn’t trying to be good music. It is trying to stretch the bounds of what music can actually be.
My favorite song off of the album is called, “Is it Cold in the Water?” It is a fairly simple song, but it is nothing short of haunting. While I have done extensive research that has convinced me that the song is written in 4:4 time, the high synths in the background are polyrhythmic, meaning that the trip and leap over each other throughout the song. This creates a timeless curiosity, one which tries to ground itself in a melody, a melody which can be heard and followed but not caught. The lyrics of the song talk about a similar feeling of confusion, the moment before, if you will. It is about that question: “is the water cold?” The rest of the song contemplates what the meaning of that question really is. After all, if one has to jump in the water, knowing about whether or not it is cold is not particularly helpful. Either way, you’ll find out once you jump in. To me, this song is about memorializing that momentary fear, the anxiety that sticks in our head and often paralyzes us, ultimately labeling it as something which can be felt, but which must be moved past. This song can be interpreted in many ways, something which further speaks to its value as a work of art.
SOPHIE left this Earth with a vision, one that has been picked up by many. This album exists as a testament to that bravery she had and the glorious drive to question everything.
