Zine #11: Starring Nerika
A New Kind of Pop Star
Photo used in cover by Anna Koblish
The world is beginning to do away with its unnecessary addiction to binaries. The need to label and define is gradually being broken down and rebuilt with nuance and fluidity. It’s a movement that art has foreshadowed for decades. In the mid 2010’s; as electronic music mellowed and melded and pop expanded its set archetypes, mainstream music further stretched its limbs and became more flexible. It’s becoming mandatory to mix genres and step out of what’s been built before. All of our faves are rebelling against their billed sound and experimenting. But with 2021 almost here, it’s time we let brand new faces reign in the change. And there’s no better rising star to herald this new era than Nerika.
Procrastinate isn’t the most apt word but it’ll have to do to explain what working on this article was like. Every time I opened my notes app, I felt completely inadequate. I couldn’t even diary style free form and go back to edit. I was self-tasked with accurately capturing the all-encompassing nature of Nerika’s artistry and it slowly became a daunting task. The thing with Nerika is that you can click in and hear a component from every single genre; we’re talking reggae, dance, electronic, new wave, alternative, old school and new school pop and many more that I’m not well-versed enough to name. But to try to get across to you, the level to which Nerika smoothly blends them all is impossible.
All music is made from emotions, her music is made with love. Music was anchored, growing up, in her father’s passion. “My dad is writer. He isn’t a ‘working’ writer, but he’s so dang talented. He’s always inspired me with that. He would have me sing a lot of the songs he wrote when he was growing up in Jamaica and pushed me to follow my creative path.” Her Caribbean parents also acted as a conduit between her and reggae. Her sound and rooted sense of self flourished with that support and influence but “through [singing her dads songs] I realized I didn’t want just sings songs that someone else wrote, but actually create my OWN voice.”
Her own voice is, as I’ve mentioned, a kaleidoscope of music but her and her dad still collaborate sometimes. They wrote her 2018 single, ‘Runnin’ together. The tracks smoothness is remarkable considering the roller-coaster of sonic aesthetics you’re taken on in two minutes. It hearkens back to self-titled and Master of My Make-Believe eras Santigold but where Santigold nestled in indie, Nerika sprouts in pop and R&B. It’s Nerika’s ability to let a polished pop sound underscore rather than dominate the track, creating a cohesive and stand-out cocktail. Her follow up single, ‘Leave Me Alone,’ from 2019 showed her honing in. It’s a smoky-smooth meld of pop and soul with a hint of Disney soundtrack in an amazingly hypnotic way. Her latest song ‘Bachelor,’ released in July, is a feel-good bubblegum pop paired with dancehall bop and the attitude of early Rihanna sprinkled on top for an addictive-ly tasty treat.
Despite how much her music lives in my head rent free, it’s not necessarily the main identifier she’d use for herself creatively: “I’ve also always been drawn to visual storytelling. I used to make skits / YouTube videos (that are now all private lol). Most times as I’m creating a song I already know what I want the visual to look like. That part actually comes a lot easier to me than the words... Sometimes the words come simultaneously, but other times I have to reverse engineer my mumbles and figure what I’m actually trying to say.” Her music videos use imagery of shared connection against internal expression to convey both story and emotion in short bursts. Each single and its corresponding content parallels her music; the content distinctively matching its song separate from the rest without losing the quintessential Nerika vibe.
With all her mediums and lens’, she puts it best herself: “honestly I’m just an artist and I’m continuously finding new ways to express myself.”
Check out the convo zine with highlights from our chat below! My responses are in italics, and hers are provided as screenshots in the graphics.
[context for first message: in response to Nerika mentioning Missy Elliot music videos]
Random but Missy Elliott’s music helped me stop being a body policing third wave feminist lol. She was so pivotal in young me’s journey to not slut shame. How would you describe your visual aesthetic?
That reminds me of what used to be an echoing insecurity and has since become my favorite compliment when a girl told me in high school that my constant pattern clashing was man repellent. I’m trying to think of a way to ask this without stepping out of place so please let me know if I did, but I notice you say especially as a Black woman. I know pop culture and society paint a very, very restrictive archetype for all Black womxn. And that archetype does not include softness or insecurity or even playfulness. How did you find confidence in who you are as a three dimensional human? And what advice do you have for other Black womxn who are not only trying to take up space, but live in that space authentically?
Such an encompassing & eye opening answer, thank you! I really appreciate you putting such beautiful words together. It’s amazing how much community to all different groups, the internet offers us. I know that’s the first place I found people I could openly talk about my mental health with. I grew up in a very white city with very few Black families where almost everyone’s idea of a Black woman was the “loud, sassy sidekick” and I remember someone at school once noting they found a Black student in our class bitchy just bc she was ‘too quiet.’ It was like with the absence of the loudness and sass, people assumed what was left was fake or nonexistent. I’ll raise my hand and acknowledge I’m still working on actively checking myself and my subconscious assumption that Black women are inherently toughor void of pain. I’d love to counter society’s false imagery and ask you an instance or person which showed you the power and beauty of being soft/vulnerable as a Black woman?
I’m curious, since I’ve never thought about the anxiety of not being the kind of dancer that Black people are expected to be and since we’ve discussed dance vibes in your music, what’s your relationship to dancing on a personal and day to day level?
Oh yeah, I’m similar. Sometimes, I feel like a siren when dancing, other times, I feel like actual garbage lolol but on the topic of feeling free, what brings you joy?
Last question, what kinda situations is your latest track, Bachelor, the perfect soundtrack for?