BANKS
Vulnerabilities and music as therapy with enigmatic songstress Banks
Mysteriously surfacing on Soundcloud earlier this year, Banks lured bloggers and music obsessives forth with her slippery tones and intoxicating downer electro/R’n’B. Drenching listeners in buttery lust, as her voice verges on the cusp of a quiver in Warm Water, it seems Banks too has lost herself in the moment she has created.
Her enigmatic nature instills the irresistible curiosity of the unknown; one which could drive any fan to stalk her Facebook or Twitter account. Alas, the LA-based singer-songwriter plays no part in the social media merry-go-round, openly stating that such matters are dealt with by her management. There is though, as possible compensation, her phone number. It’s easy to dismiss this as a mere stunt, yet experiencing Banks’ attempts to meet us on Skype, it becomes obvious that isn’t the case. One failed call after another sees Banks’ internet connection finally give up, and so ringing the phone number she leaves so willingly on social media was the only option. “As you can see I’m completely inept!” she cheerfully proclaims as we connect.
Responding to her decision to remain off the social media grid and ignore the online world which brought her to the attention of so many, Banks pleads digital illiteracy. “I want to be able to reach people directly, so I give out my number,” she explains. “I just wasn’t into Facebook and I didn’t have a Twitter, so I was like, ‘well if you wanna reach me, call me!’” Rather than being bombarded with unwanted attention, Banks insists that the texts she receives are largely from fans exclaiming their affection for her music or just kindly asking how her day is going. Her favorite messages are the ones which tell of how much her music has relieved people from their loneliness.
Banks first stepped into the music realm after being given a toy keyboard at the age of 15. The ability to convey how she felt, regardless of whether anyone heard or not, was a salvation. The lifting of a weight from her young shoulders felt liberating, and an addiction to writing music was born. “It’s a form of therapy, it’s a way for me to keep straight.” That she graduated in 2011 with a degree in psychology comes as no surprise. Though her music stemmed from a place of gloomy self-reflection, it’s far from her only inspiration “I don’t only write when I’m feeling dark” she insists. “I write when I feel inspired – sometimes I feel so light, like I’m floating. It’s about raw vulnerability, it’s about real emotion.”
“Those words are all positive in my eyes; womanly and sensual are all good things in my opinion”
But for Banks, such vulnerability comes coated in a sensual allure, an ownership of her femininity. How does she feel about being christened in parallel with an underlying sexuality? “Those words are all positive in my eyes; womanly and sensual are all good things in my opinion,” she quietly muses. “It’s just me. I don’t know, that’s just what comes out when I’m writing something.” She seems sure these factors will only become further emphasised on her forthcoming EP. In terms of subject matter, beats and atmosphere, the new material sounds heavy. Excitement surrounding the release gushes from Banks, to the extent that during our conversation she settles on the EP’s name: London. Guaranteeing that she hasn’t told anyone else why she has made this decision – it’s announced publicly a matters of days later – she unfolds the decision making.
“I had all the songs mixed and mastered and ready before I first went to London,” she begins. “In the time that I was there I grew so much and so quickly, and I was writing things that meant so much to me that I was like ‘I don’t care, we’re switching everything up!’ and I replaced every song but one.”
The new EP also has the influence of DJ and producer Totally Enormous Extinct Dinosaurs, or Orlando Higginbottom, who co-wrote and produced a track. Their managers played musical cupid and the blind date writing session evidently went smoothly, as he has now produced a handful of her songs. Banks has become accustomed to outsiders remixing her work, and as the videos pile up on YouTube she’s content with hearing her work reinterpreted. “I’ve been lucky, I haven’t heard any that make me cringe.” Her next move is an auspicious support slot with The Weeknd across North America, and having performed live for the first time in Notting Hill Arts Club (another reason for her strong connection with the capital) only two months ago, it represents a considerable leap of faith for such an inexperienced performer. Banks is all too aware of the quick transition. “I’m nervous, but I think that’s natural, I’m trying to embrace the whole process. I know that where I’ll be in a year will be totally different to now, and I’m just trying to enjoy every step.”
Though her love affair with psychology may be over, her use of music as therapy never will be. Our conversation continuously weaves in and out of insightful advice accumulated through personal experiences, and though she’s emerged from the trials of her youth, this guidance is unlikely to be discarded. “Sometimes people feel really shameful of any dark feelings they have, they think it’s not OK to feel like that,” she muses. “Have a creative outlet to let everything out and don’t judge yourself for it. Nobody has to hear the thoughts you have or see the paintings you paint or the letters you write, nobody has to see it but you. They’re all your darkest emotions, and they can’t be anything but good.”
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Words: Isis O’Regan
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