It’s almost a shame, but to make music like Okay Kaya you have to be as glamorous as she is; a Cool Modern Woman: self-aware, a bit sad, beautiful. On Baby Little Tween she asks: Where are we without our adolescence? Do those feelings ever leave us, or are we wedded and weighted with flotsam of worry and hurt long into our lives? If we can, we can make soft and lullaby songs, or other art that takes shape vaguely like those muddy feelings, as she has. She finds the poem, the tune, moves them into her voice, which swings and swoops skywards, dipping down over other hummings of her lovely singing, small bumps and beats. Ascend and Try Again is one ringed hand rubbed and twisted into the other, leading and gently pulling herself out of the lukewarm pond into the soft mist from the waterfall of self-improvement. A trusting bass stirs like seaweed under a man’s speaking voice, her Nordic voice, a guitar. Hopeful, a veil that softens the bitterness of the first song. Okay Kaya is nearly too cool for this to be good, but not quite. Her voice like a gull is too winsome for that.
Image: via Dice