The Gothic Blues of Adia Victoria
Adia Victoria, the brilliant artist behind the mesmerizing genre fusion known as "gothic blues," brings together the best of rock, blues, punk rock, and country in her music. With haunting melodies, powerful lyrics, and a commitment to staying true to herself, Adia Victoria takes us on a musical journey that knows no boundaries. Her ability to blend diverse influences creates a one-of-a-kind sound that captures the heart and soul.
Adia's journey in music began when she picked up the guitar at the age of 21. Initially captivated by the sounds of Johnny Cash and Hank Williams, she soon discovered the blues, which would forever shape her perspective. Through the blues, she discovered the power of connecting mind and body, intellect, and muscle, and embraced the innate knowledge and wisdom residing within her own being. The moment she encountered the music of artists like Skip James, Adia felt seen and understood, as if a spiritual advisor had appeared to guide her through life's complexities. The blues became a powerful force that didn't ask her to be anything other than herself—an unfiltered expression of the raw human experience, both troubling and beautiful.
Shaped by Adia's profound musical journey and the transformative power of the blues, our interview took place. From the complexities of womanhood, and being a Southerner, to defining purpose and embracing the art of living, our conversation touched upon the very essence of human existence.
Pilar Alvarado: There is a constant theme in your body of work: belonging. You exist as a person, as a woman, as a black woman, and as a Southerner. What does it all mean to you, how do you define belonging?
Adia Victoria: I think the reason I write about it so much is because it's something that I didn't feel growing up. It's something that I struggle with feeling, I didn't belong even within my church and my family. I think belonging means knowing that someone can see you, knowing that someone can see themselves in you and in your experience. That you are not an aberration, you are not this offshoot of everyone else. I think belonging is a nurtured commonality between people — and that's something that's very hard to come by in this world, past a superficial level.
Pilar Alvarado: Do you feel that sense of belonging and understanding with everyone around you who listens to your music or collaborates with you?
Adia Victoria: I should hope so, but I think the greatest gift that I've received being an artist is that I now belong to myself. And from that belonging within myself, I don't necessarily go out looking for anymore. We are all human beings. We all go through this life once, and it's a unique experience for each and every one of us. That's what helps me find common ground with people and create a sense of community. It doesn't matter if someone is a musician or not, or if they look like me or come from the same place as me. What matters is that we're all going through this very similar human experience, where none of us truly know why we're here. That's the common link between all of us, and ironically the one that’s the most denied to us.
Pilar Alvarado: Yeah, absolutely. Has the transformation that you’ve undergone, where you now feel a sense of belonging to yourself, also influenced your career?
Adia Victoria: Yeah, I think I've evolved as a human and as a woman, and at the same time I've evolved as an artist. I've become a lot more comfortable in my skin as I've gotten into my thirties and accepted myself. And once I was able to do that I need fewer other people to accept me. You know, it's like it's nice if you do, but at the same time, if you don't that's not really my problem. And the same goes for my art. It's like, yeah, of course, I want people to accept my art into their lives and support me and whatnot, but that can't be my final mission.
Pilar Alvarado: Sometimes I feel I need to be less emotional and more objective with what I say because I am a woman. As you've evolved as an artist has that changed within you, do you repress less what you want to say and show up as authentic as you are?
Adia Victoria: If anything, I would say my work can sometimes be too subjective, I don't believe in objectivity. But no, I think that men have the same issue too. I think that's something that men have used to be dominant in a higher-up social hierarchy. They've tried to claim objectivism as their own and say it's just stated eternal truth. It's, well, very convenient that objective truth happens to align with your agenda and your needs, you know, and your desires. So I think that men are just as repressed as women, if not even more repressed because they have more to, "lose" if people are to truly start seeing this commonality between all of us.
Pilar Alvarado: So do you think being a woman gives you an advantage in that way?
Adia Victoria: I think it is an advantage if you're willing to claim it for yourself. One of the things that bother me a lot about women in music is they want to be equal to men. They want to be men and have the same advantages. But the last thing the world needs is more people thinking with a male masculine mind because that's what's gotten us into this mess in the first place. I feel that as a woman, there is power there, as a black woman, there's even more power because you are so removed from the center of power that you have a greater perspective on things. There's nothing innately magical about being a black woman. What I have as a blessing, was initially the curse of being a black woman on the outside of things. But I decided to use it to my own advantage. I'm not going to write the same songs about the same things in the same way that people do.
Silences, 2019 Via: @aidavictoria
Pilar Alvarado: I can't remember where I read this but you said that human nature is funky because it's hard to explain and convey what it means to be a human being.
Adia Victoria: Yeah, it's like, "How would a fish describe water, you know?”
Pilar Alvarado: I think the human experience is about surrendering to life.
Adia Victoria: You know, we are all born and we all die, all nature around us understands this. We are all in a state of flow. Human beings are the only ones arrogant enough to think that we have some claim on permanence. So, what are we here for? If you can divest from all of the shoulds, you realize that nobody knows what they're doing. When you understand that there is no higher power outside of nature, you are a lot freer.
Pilar Alvarado: So, if I ask you “what’s your purpose in life”, what would you say?
Adia Victoria: I think that I don’t have a purpose. My purpose is to be. Just be. I have to be at peace with knowing that maybe I'll never release another record, or reach a certain status in my career or that I will lose my mind one day. I don't know. What is even the purpose of trying to have a purpose?
Pilar Alvarado: I think people sometimes lose themselves trying to figure out what their purpose…
Aida Victoria: To me, that sounds like a miserable way of living. I remember as a kid feeling enraged at the idea that so much of my time was not mine. And I began rebelling against that, and I still feel that so much with people, like you said, running around trying to find their purpose. Are you not worthy unless you're doing something? I think that mindset is a very American way of thinking that we've sold to the world.
Adia Victoria: We matter just by virtue of existing. I'm just so tired of being told you have to always be hustling and grinding. I wouldn't want to have a career that eats up my life. That's not what I want my life to be about. In America you actually feel guilt for pleasures, you always have to be striving towards an invisible horizon and its exhausting. I don’t want my life to be a fight, I don’t want to struggle and if being in the music industry takes my peace away I have to be fully prepared to walk away from it.
Pilar Alvarado: What are the ghosts and demons that you have to fight with every day and how do they inspire you to create music?
Adia Victoria: I think that the ghosts and the demons that I fight with are the ones that have followed me since I was a little girl. That voice that says you can't trust people with yourself or that no one's going to listen to you. No one's going to recognize you. You're never going to seem normal. You're always going to seem alien. And I have to practice a lot of patience with that part of me because if I give in too much into that, it shuts me down. I have to be patient with my inner child. I have to give her time to air our grievances but I also have to let her know that she's safe. I would say that like my greatest demon: not feeling safe within my own skin.
Pilar Alvarado: What would you say were the tools that helped you get to a point where you feel safe and trust yourself?
Adia Victoria: I've always been good at calling bullshit. And so one of the reasons why I've been able to find safety with myself was looking at what society had to offer me, what they called safe. "If you're a nice woman, if you behave, someone will take care of you. People will love you if you're nice and polite and don't make people mad." That's a lie that's been sold to generations of women as a way to make them stay invisible. So I thought " I don't want what the world is telling me, so whatever it is that I can find within myself, it can't be anything worse than what they're trying to sell me." I had to define what success, security, happiness, and fulfilment looked like for me. And the minute that you outsource that to anything outside of yourself, you're kind of a sitting duck for a catastrophe.
Pilar Alvarado: What you just said, really translated into your music and your lyrics, where do you draw this power from to hold yourself in this space and express yourself in such a profound manner?
Adia Victoria: I work every day on trusting myself. I'm not trying to hold myself up as some role model that's got it all figured out. This business of being alive is tough. It's confusing, it's nasty. It's it's beautiful, it's tragic. And I have to trust myself to be open to all of it. I can't close down certain parts of me that are vulnerable. I have to remain curious until the day that I die. I can never reach a point where I think I've got it all figured out. I want to maintain that childlike curiosity and wonder about the world. That curiosity thrives in me and encourages me to ask questions and not always have answers.
Pilar Alvarado: How’s your writing process? How does it all come together?
Adia Victoria: The process is very entwined with my living. I get my best ideas when I'm walking because I’m not so much in my head. For me, the music has to start with the body, the blues lives in my body. I like to go and read some poetry and then go for a walk with the words, and just see what they bring up in me. Or finding a blues harmony that speaks to me. It’s just all about me remaining alive and present in the moment.
Pilar Alvarado: I'm not sure about your perspective on this, but it's something I've been contemplating. When we consider Southern music, there seem to be two contrasting ends of the spectrum. On one hand, there's the deep-rooted folk, blues, and roots music. On the other hand, there's a wide range that includes country music and more. Do you think there's currently a movement towards decolonizing blues and folk music, where artists like yourself are reclaiming and bridging different influences?
Adia Victoria: I'm not taking it back because I never gave it up. You know, it's always been mine. The question has just been, who gets to make money off of it? Who gets to be seen as emblematic of certain genres? And I can't really speak for the industry, I try to mind my own business. But for me, I feel that there is more of a willingness in audiences. They want stories told by a wider swath of storytellers. They're sick of hearing the same stories by the same people that look like them, that have been marketed to them. People want more breadth, more depth to their art.
Pilar Alvarado: How would you explain the south to someone who is unfamiliar with it?
Adia Victoria: The South is a place that is extremely human, much to its own. It's where humanity was betrayed and revealed itself. I think that it's where humanity has confused itself for a place where gods walk on Earth in the bodies of white men. And I also see the South as a place of the indestructibility of the human spirit. My ancestors came here, you know, 400 years ago to South Carolina. By all means, I should not be here. By all means. I am a freak of circumstances that I should survive and live the life that I do. And it's not on me it's not by my own doing that I sit here and then I'm able to talk to you. It's because I embody the spirit of resistance and joy and determination of my ancestors. And so I think that the South is a place of deeply embedded truths. I think that this land that I grew up on and I grew up in is haunted. And it is still unrest and unsettled. And I think that these truths, they are in the nature around us. They are in the ground, they are in the air, they are in the people, and they are waiting to be acknowledged and cleaned. And I can only imagine what force the South could be if we finally get over ourselves, get over our fears, and face the truths that are in the air around us.