By Amanda Nordqvist
After spending a lot of time and energy on a variety of projects, Swedish-Iranian composer Shida Shahabi felt fed up with the complexity and technicality of the music she had been involved with, and ventured on a path, to her, untraveled – a more honest, less produced way of composing. This led Shahabi to her debut solo production, built entirely around the piano, situated in the most intimate of settings – ones’ own home. Appropriately named, Homes is an album where depth and substance trumps ambition and technology; “These little pieces are really just about playing the way you play things and letting them sound the way they sound”, says Shahabi, “Accepting limitations and allowing yourself to create the musical states and ideas that you have without over-thinking, commenting and criticizing too much.”
This simple but utterly self-exposing way of composing culminated in a glorious collection of tracks. Jumping right into the thick of things, Abisme starts off without ado, an undeterred elegancy in the flow of the movements. The highly individual footprint of the composer is immediately introduced – it’s like a language, completely owned by Shahabi, lending the music a sort of soul or personality, instantly evident and utterly apprehensible. The piece softly wanes and settles onto a darker path, the one monotonous tone in the background growing subtly and increasing the uneasy sensation. Alone, in my own home, I should feel perfectly safe – and yet I’m overcome with an urge to call out, not knowing if I want an answer or not.
The eerie feeling is not long-lived, as the romantically simplistic swell of Smygkatt settles around me instead – a blissful loneliness takes hold of me now, as I imagine some distant stranger, dancing a lonesome waltz in their own kitchen, perfectly at ease. After the intelligently jolly Petula, a track that stands out with its vintage vibes, comes one of the major attention-grabbers; with a playful sense of running up and down the walls, Pretty In Plums has an intricate pattern looped and gently built upon, with no sense of rush or obligation. The piece stands boldly and securely, knowing the attention won’t be turned elsewhere – and truly, it’s impossible to look away. The piece perfectly symbolizes the unpretentious simplicity Shahabi was going for.
Later in the album we hear a glittering intro leading into a heavy handed, heavy hearted piece, as Vassen elaborates slowly and cautiously: like someone laying their arms out, asking to be seen. Every step seems carefully calculated and there’s a fearlessness in the trembling – with every minute the confidence grows and I am mesmerized, fully captivated, by the raw honesty of having someone lay their soul bare, with no impersonal glorifications, no attempts at grandiosity.
After the range of emotion throughout the album, the Afterword sums it up quite well, sounding like someone trying to convince themselves; going this and that way, doubt landing like a feather only to be blown into the air, and slowly settling once more. Homes certainly seems like a glimpse into someone’s everyday life – the simple sways of emotion, the day-to-day, small but noticeable differences in feeling and expression – and I can only say that I am grateful to have been allowed a peek into Shahabi’s home and mind, and hopeful for whatever she will go on to do next.