Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Feathers. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.
Hi Feathers, thanks for joining us today. Can you open up about a risk you’ve taken – what it was like taking that risk, why you took the risk and how it turned out?
I used to be in a pyschedelic doom metal band that was known for its live shows to be more of a circus. It garnered attention wherever we went. Guaranteed to have heavy sounds with a beautiful female lead vocal, dancers using LED hoops, fans or ribbons, and a light show on top of that with a smoke machine. Always a spectacle. I was really happy to be in this project as we were invited to festivals, prominent venues and interviewed in Rolling Stone Magazine and Revolver Magazine. We felt on top of the world.
But I had my own songs I wrote that had nothing to do with this band that would never fit the feel of what we were doing. And on top of that, I loved to play guitar and come up with melodies that really suited my voice. There was no room for another guitar in this metal band; at least the kind of rhythm player that I am. I tried to do both projects, but my first priority was always the bigger band that had more fans, more pressure and more expectations. Slowly I started to yearn for stages to showcase my own personal music and lyrics where I wasn’t expected to be spooky or creepy, or metal. I yearned to sing different songs and different words and to wear different outfits.
After five years in this band, I made the choice to leave. It was one of the hardest decisions to make and to pull the trigger on. To tell this band I considered family that I didn’t want to be a part of it anymore. To find someone else to replace me. I was going to take the risk and go out on my own. It was extremely scary to tell them and crushing to let something I’ve poured all my heart and soul into for years. But I was determined to get my own music out in the world. To unleash it. To try it out and not have the “what if” in the back of my mind.
Cue the Covid-19 pandemic which hit me really hard. I couldn’t go to shows, I couldn’t go to open mics, I only had the internet. But I did spend that time writing and learning how to use Logic Pro to be an amateur engineer for myself. I got to a place where I had some ideas on a midi keyboard and my voice and once it was safe to start going out again, I hit the ground running. I did not anticipate how hard it would be to rebuild a whole community. I wasn’t in the genre of metal anymore. I was a new face to the singer songwriter community. I was a nobody. But I kept at it and showed up.
I started to see familiar faces and go support their shows to make meaningful connections. It took a long time and the songs I started with weren’t the songs I play today, with the exception of one. I learned how to go to events by myself, to not need to drink each time so I could drive myself, and go with the confidence that I might not talk to anyone. But I found it to be a joy and part of the process to be in uncomfortable spaces and see what happens. It’s part of the journey to this day and meeting artists all across genres. I have solid friends from before all the bands that are with me to this day and their support is crucial to getting by. And the friends I make along the way.
Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.
Singing was always a part of me. When I was younger I sang all the time, but I thought I’d be a writer when I grew up like an author or a journalist. I really love story telling and this was a huge part of how I took in the world around me. I started a rock/jazz band with my best friend in high school who picked up guitar and this is where I first started to share my writings, through lyrics. After wrestling with pragmatic thoughts on job security, I realized I needed to follow a passion to see where it took me and pursued a Bachelor’s degree in Theatre Arts and Dance. While I was highly focused on acting, teaching dance, and behind the scenes production, I was still making music outside of school. I joined a few music projects that didn’t really go far until I landed in a psychedelic acid doom metal band.
The band was called “Old Blood” focused on heavy guitar riffs, lasting visuals, and the occult nature of all things that are and could be. It was unlike anything I’ve ever done and allowed me full creative freedom in singing, lyric writing, costumes, and stage production for live shows. We got called a traveling metal circus a few times and I was really proud about that. It was the first band I was in that I realized I didn’t have to be in a casting call or audition to land a role I really wanted. I could create the role I wanted.
Before I joined that band, I had started to learn guitar to accompany myself singing. Just for fun and purely to aid my voice in finding melodies when I was by myself. It took a while to get decent at at singing and playing because I was self taught, but over the years I improved. There were songs that would never be used in the metal band because the subject, or words themselves, just weren’t a good fit for that project. The more songs I made like that, a little part of me yearned for me to focus on those songs. It got larger over time that they didn’t see the light of day, until I made the decision that I needed to shift my focus to give them a chance.
Starting over without a band and in an entirely new genre of music was a little bit of a culture shock. No one knew me, I was alone, and I wasn’t 21 years old anymore. I knew I needed to play my songs in front of people to at least practice and get to know people so I started going to open mics local to me. This was one of the best decisions I made. Cold calling venues and promoters to get in shows was exhausting, but networking with other artists who valued original songs was the way to go. Going to new events, sometimes alone, in different areas was also nerve racking, but essential. To show the community that I was down to put in some effort, to show up even if I wasn’t going to play my music, and also to listen to theirs. Join their world, be vulnerable, and maybe, just maybe, they’d show up to mine one day.
I learned a lot about the singer songwriter community in Los Angeles and about myself which has been a huge gift along with the support I’ve gotten along the way. I know the artists I like working with share their art with love and humility; who share their art because they dig it and believe others will too; who not only consider themselves allies, but who advocate for communities that need it. Most of all, I’ve learned that I want to create something that will move people. Move them with a groove so they dance, with a tantalizing line that gets their mind thinking, or the overall sensation of a song that might even grant catharsis. If someone gets a melody stuck in their head I’ll call that a win. This is my gift and I’m trying to give it. I hope whoever is listening will take it.
What’s a lesson you had to unlearn and what’s the backstory?
Listen to those in power because they know what it takes and can help you rise to the top. This is something I wish everyone could go into the industry unlearning. Because of my background in theatre, dance, and music I’ve had many opportunities to observe and work with a variety of producers, directors and managers. Some of them worked extremely hard to get where they are and cherish their team. Others abuse their power or belittle those around them and they only stay in power because no one has gone against them. I’ve taken a gig where a director was award winning and known in the community for working with great talent, so of course I wanted to be a part of that legacy when I was offered the gig, even though the pay was little.
Multiple times throughout the production I didn’t feel right about the treatment of the team, myself included. I worked for 3 months with this person daily and was a crucial part of this production. I was putting in the most hours with some of the lowest pay for this project, but worked as hard as I could to help this director’s vision come to life. When it all was coming to a close, I got little to no acknowledgment in group settings or even one on one. I was shocked because I thought we had a decent professional relationship. A year later when I ran into them at another event, they acted like they didn’t know me. I never expected to gain something directly from this director, but I realized I didn’t have anything to offer them and therefore I was a nobody again to them now that our production has finished. I don’t respect people like that and I firmly believe that will only take you so far. To protect my time, my energy, and my heart I steer clear of those who take all they can and give nothing. That gut feeling is extremely accurate and we should believe people when they show us who they are.
Is there something you think non-creatives will struggle to understand about your journey as a creative?
Unless you have a wonderful opportunity to focus on your craft 24/7, most up and coming artists have to have a ‘day job’ to make ends meet. Working on their craft in addition to a regular job usually results in artists having close to 2 full time jobs. It’s just not playing music, it’s the networking and showing up to support other events, having a presence online or creating content and the administrative side of it all. Throw in family and friends apart from all that? You get someone who is filled to the brim on their schedule, strapped on cash to do big events or travel, and might never commit to impromptu or last minute get togethers because we still need time for ourselves to recharge.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.feathersandco.net/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/f_e_a_t_h_e_r_s__/
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/featherzzz
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@_f_e_a_t_h_e_r_s_
- Other: https://musicwithfeathers.bandcamp.com/

Image Credits
Photography by Elin, Bo Raquelsantos

