The first time I heard Sophia perform was while I was working as a vendor at the Queer Bazaar for Outfront Magazine, and in an admittedly vulnerable moment, teared up hearing "Kissing Girls in Church Parking Lots" for the first time. What makes Sophia special is not only her distinct style, and almost celtic voice, but her ability to effortlessly incorporate parts of herself that mirror experiences many of us can identify with. Catch her performance at Sapphic Market, March 9th from 12:30-1:30pm
Check out her website below for upcoming shows and more!
photo credit: Jo Babb
SM: Can you share some insights into your journey and how your identity as a queer woman has influenced your work?
SE: Claiming my queer identity to have an exceptionally large influence on my work doesn’t quite resonate with me - I fear that doing so would put me in a box that I've spent so long trying to break out of in the first place. I truly believe that there is no singular “way to be gay.” While I find tremendous comfort and joy in being part of the queer community, I hope that the messages within my music are not limited by a queer label placed by my name. I would say my queerness influences my music just as much as any other identity that resonates with me; such as being a younger sister, a curious and goofy human, and a fiery Sagittarius. Music has always been a beautiful outlet for getting feelings off of my chest and a medium for articulating stagnant memories. My queer identity is just another facet of those lived experiences, but not the sole foundation of my practice. While I certainly have a number of sapphic love songs under my belt, I derive a lot of happiness from breaking conceptions of what it means to be a queer artist by writing songs based off of whatever seems to inspire me at the time.
SM: What is your creative process like, from conceptualization to the finished piece?
SE: Writing a song feels like a tidal wave roaring in my tummy. I get antsy and find myself a bit on edge - eager to find a moment alone to sort through whatever seems to be circling my mind. While I have a soft spot for co-writing, being home alone when inspiration strikes is absolute candy and my favorite way to songwrite. It feels so luxurious to be in solitude and play the same guitar riff over and over again. Repetition and memory are generally huge aspects of my creative process. If I have a hard time recalling lyrics, I’ll often take that as a sign to fine-tune or alter whatever I am trying to convey. In many ways, my songwriting process correlates directly to my somatic practice as a dance instructor. The sensations I experience while writing music serves as a compass for what is and isn’t landing right in my body. A song doesn’t feel “finished” until I can float through the piece with a relaxed mind.
photo credit: Linnae D'Auria
SM: How has your musical style and approach evolved and what factors have contributed to your evolution?
SE: I treat each song like a physical being and listen to them very carefully. I try to remove my critical voice from the room and allow my subconscious mind the space to roam wild. I’m an avid journaler and scribble down several pages in my diary before getting out of bed each morning. This ritual directly impacts the clarity of my thoughts, and in result, continuously shapes my songwriting. I find myself more willing and excited to experiment with new ideas on days I’ve emptied the “white noise” of my morning brain.
Earlier this year, I had the pleasure of catching Anna Tivel perform locally at Swallow Hill Music. She got up there, shared incredibly witty stories, and casually launched into the most heart-wrenching songs. I laughed. I cried. My arms were covered in goosebumps. Despite the fact that Anna Tivel has the voice of a literal angel, she effortlessly moved an audience to tears with just a guitar in hand.
I often feel like a little guppy when sharing a bill with full bands. I keep Anna Tivel’s performance in the back of my mind for safekeeping and pull that memory forward whenever I need a reminder of the power of a stripped-down, one woman show.
SM: Have you faced any challenges that have helped shape your music?
SE: Songwriting is innately very personal. Because of that, there are a lot of pieces I’m still not yet - maybe will never be - ready to release.
SM: Where did you learn to make music, and what drew you to your instrument and genre?
SE: The very first instrument I picked-up was the trombone. The only reason I stuck through two years of band practice in fifth and sixth grade was to annoy my sister. My trombone journey was sweet, short, and ridiculously loud. My uncle gifted me a ¾-sized Yamaha guitar when I was eleven years old. My cousin taught me my very first song, which was “Primadonna Girl” by Marina and the Diamonds. From there on out, I fell in love with guitar and how much flexibility it gave me as a vocalist.
I attended music school for my first year of college, but otherwise, never received any formal training. My relationship to music feels very homegrown. It’s been a big journey of tinkering around and slowly figuring it out as I go. I owe my love for folk and country music to the CDs I grew up listening to in the car; a sprinkling of Carrie Underwood, Martina McBride, and Colbie Callait.
photo credit: Jo Babb
SM: Why do you think it’s important for the LGBTQ community to be represented in music?
SE: As a young teen, my guilty pleasure was singing “I Got A Girl Crush” by Little Big Town. I would get really into the parts where she confessed, “I've got a girl crush / Hate to admit it but / I got a heart rush / It ain't slowin' down.” I would recruit friends to cover the song with me and intensely watch their body language to see how the lyrics made them feel. I’d suggest “I’ve Got A Girl Crush '' back-to-back with another country song to try and cover up my queer tracks. You and I both know that I was a sucker for Little Big Town because I was crushing hard on girls, even if I was crushing from a distance.
Recently, I attended Joy as Resistance’s Gayla at the Mercury Cafe. Watching queer youth at the concert casually weave through a packed house full of queer adults made me a blubbery mess. I found myself simultaneously overjoyed and deeply jealous of the young kids. While I was growing up, there were few queer musicians portrayed in the media. In the past few years, it's been so incredible to watch a general rise of queer representation. As an LGBTQ+ musician, I dearly hope that my songs bring people a sense of queer belonging as they sort through the nitty gritty strangeness of navigating their sexual identity.
SM: How do you hope your audience responds to your music, and what kind of impact do you aim to make?
SE: I like to picture my audience belting “Kissing Girls in Church Parking Lots” into their hairbrush as they smear sparkly make-up across their cheekbones. I hope a giggling gaggle of friends sing “Birds!” everytime they see a pigeon fly overhead. I dream of “Pears & Honey” playing in the background of Sunday morning kitchens. I imagine bodies sunbathing beneath tree canopies while “Intro” gently escapes from speakers propped by river rocks. Whatever storyline my songs exist alongside, I hope that my music lands softly in people’s hearts.
SM: What are your aspirations as a musician in the future? Are there specific projects, themes, or collaborations you hope to explore?
SE: My biggest aspiration as a musician is to enjoy, celebrate, and appreciate every little step of the way! I’m a happy camper as long as I’m writing, singing, and sharing my heart songs. I just released my first album “Pears & Honey” and am looking forward to recording my next project. Recently, I’ve been writing a lot of songs about bugs and curious little critters. Within the next year, I’d love to work with a producer to bring these buggy songs to life.
photo credit: Linnae D'Auria
SM: What advice do you have for your younger self?
SE: If I could go back in time, I would tell my younger self that she isn’t silly for having a big fat crush on Meg from Hercules.