Issue 93 / October 2018

“Liverpool is in
my heart already.
It’s beautiful…
it’s definitely
the place”
a process of distillation through which they become compacted.
Small and powerful is not a contradiction in Niki Kand’s world,
where strength can be found in a light touch.
As I point out to her, absent from Niki’s music are any
impulses towards cathartic lyrical vengeance. Her work is not a
vessel for her pain, but an escape from it. “There’s no hidden or
serious message there. It’s all about having a fun, light moments
when you listen to the song.” When she describes her creative
process, it also contains this lightness: “I can endlessly play
around with chords, melodies and beats, and I can’t even realise
the time is passing by… There’s no seriousness. It’s just an escape
from reality, which is most of the time boring and bitter.”
This is not to say that Niki cannot contend with depth. The
subject, she tells me, that she always unwittingly finds her way
back to is love: “I mostly write about [love], even though when I
first start writing I don’t think about love. I think everything’s kind
of related to love, because we are all very hungry and desperate
to be loved. Like, maybe we’re not always conscious of it, but
that’s at least how I see it.” Niki’s sensitivity propels her creativity.
In Iran, she got her degree in visual arts and fine arts. “Music was
my number one passion, so that was always clear, but I was also
very passionate for other types of art – like theatre, or movies – I
can see the beauty in it. I can feel the beauty in a picture and a
photograph – even in the way you’ve dressed up today, I can see
all the details and I can be touched by it.” Suddenly, I feel very
warm; Niki really has a way of making people feel prized with her
sincerity.
Niki explains to me the process that ended in her deciding to
pursue music full-time. She started playing the piano when she
was 14, but it was too late to join the music school she wanted
to. Left with no choice, she went to art school and bought into the
Bohemian dream. “I was really inspired by that type of lifestyle,
where you belong to no nothing and no one… I wanted to become
the next Picasso or something like that.” Then, there was a
period of uncertainty: “For some time, especially around my 20s,
I was a bit unsure which way to go.” But after graduating, she
redoubled focus on what had been there all along, and was not
wrapped in egoistic ideations: music. “That must be really nice, to
just know,” I say, wistfully. “Yeh? You don’t know? Still lost?” she
asks, laughing. “Don’t worry, you’ll find out.” She reassures me.
I am inconsolable; “I don’t know if I will…” But she fixes her eye
on me and speaks firmly: “You will, trust me – you have to. Under
pressure you always find a way.”
“It took me some time to figure out my sound, but now I’m
confident enough that whatever I put out represents me 100 per
cent.” She arrived at a confident grasp of her craft not through
an epiphany, but through trial and error: “It just took about 50
songs. I’ve got loads of songs just on my laptop that I’ve never
released, and that’s because I was trying to figure out what I like
and what’s me.” Her focus on self-actualisation reminds me of
something she said earlier. “I like what you said before, about
how even if nobody listened to music you’d still make it. I think
you need that type of solipsism, so that you’re not always trying
to predict what other people are going to like.” For her, this
solipsism is natural. “It’s really difficult to figure out what people
like and then go for that. My taste is good enough for me to rely
on. If I’m happy, I just want to put it out and hope that people
like it – you can’t control people. It’s really exciting if people find
them interesting but the very first reason why I started writing
wasn’t to show the world – it was just for me.”
This independence of spirit marks every aspect of her
practice. Thus far, she has produced all of her own music, edited
her own videos and curated her own aesthetic. “I think that’s
just my personality – I don’t know, I can’t really trust anyone. I
don’t think anybody else can do it better than I can.” I like this
self-assurance; Niki may be softly spoken, but her confidence
is unshakeable. I ask her whether she would sign her life away
to record labels if the opportunity arose and she is just as
nonchalant in her certitude: “No. Sometimes I think about it
and I wonder why people need record labels, because we have
enough tools to make something interesting. It’s just a matter of
time and passion.” Her DIY philosophy is very in keeping with
the zeitgeist: “You don’t need anything, you don’t even need a
studio. I work in my closet. I know that part of this whole thing
is business, so for that bit I think it’s probably good to work with
others, but for the creative bit I am happy where I am.”
Liverpool is the perfect match for such a freewheeler, and
she has nothing but good things to say about her four years
here. “Liverpool is in my heart already. It’s beautiful, and the
music scene is great. I think is the best thing about it is that it’s
good quality, but small enough for you to find your place – I like
the fact that it’s not massively big.” I ask her whether she would
ever go to London, as the prophecy seems to go for Liverpool’s
talent all too often now. “No, I don’t think so. I don’t know why
I should.” She tells me several of her musician friends moved
to Liverpool specifically for its thriving scene. “It’s definitely the
place.”
The city, in turn, has welcomed her with opportunities. “My
next gig is on 28th September, for Merseyrail Sound Station
at Liverpool Central Station. I’ll be performing with a choir for
the first time, and I don’t know if it’s my last time, because it
doesn’t happen every day.” As one of the artists who qualified
for Merseyrail Sound Station’s artist development programme,
she has been asked to arrange her songs for the purposes of a
special choral performance as part of BBC Music Day’s Liverpool
activity. “It’s just such a great opportunity. I’m really, really
excited for that.” For those unfamiliar with Niki’s work, this will
be a unique opportunity to hear her perform, and escape into
the meticulous fantasies of this craftswoman. !
Words: Niloo Sharifi
Photography: Nata Moraru / facebook.com/NataMoraruPhoto
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