Take a disco: dark, sweaty, neon pink and electric blue, speakers so loud you can taste it, glitter makeup dripping down your face, sequins scratching your skin, thick air, your platform pumps sticking to the dance floor. Now rip the black-out curtains off windows, knock down the walls — sunlight streams in, grass tickles your ankles, clothes hang loose, you can breathe deeply, clearly. That’s Say She She’s new album Prism. It’s sunlight at the rave, clear vocals over deep funk. Rhythm you want to spread out to, bass that feels like a cool breeze.
Say She She, a seven-piece band led by three female leads, is reminding Brooklyn how to dance Le Freak. The band’s name is a nod to Nile Rogers’ “C’est chic!” lyric, with a modern feminine twist. Et aussi chic is the kismet meeting of Piya Malik, Nya Gazelle Brown and Sabrina Mileo Cunningham, the singers at the heart of Say She She. From disparate sides of Brooklyn, the three ran into each other at a house party in Harlem, as one does, and realized their musical chemistry into a full project soon after.
Malik, a former backing singer for Chicano Batman, is partisan to Turkish funk and Hindi riffs. Brown’s concentration was in R&B, and she was trained in classical and jazz vocals from childhood. Cunningham is partial to 80s eclectic progressive groups like Rotary Connection and Tom Tom Club. These three distinct backgrounds merged to create the singular sound of Say She She; a sound, though only inaugurated this year with their first single “Forget Me Not,” that already feels assured in their first album, Prism, releasing Oct. 7.
If there’s a female gaze, such as in the way films like “The Virgin Suicides” and “Portrait of a Lady on Fire” depict love, there’s a female sound in how Say She She describes love and loving in Prism. Their voices are tender and earnest, delicate yet serious; in “Don’t Wait,” even a break-up song is full with solace and healing, wondering about and wanting the best for their ex’s next lover. And all this is set to a rhythmic beat on a funky bassline, making the hips shift, the feet move.
With nature imagery and dreamy vocals, every song on the album evokes the divine feminine. But “Fortune Teller” dives deepest, the layered vocals touching on a host of feminine tropes in the chorus:
“I’m not a fortune teller, I can’t read your mind / I’m not a healer, can’t stop you from going blind / I’m not a fortress, but I will try to protect you.”
Tropes aren’t real life. Sometimes these traditionally feminine roles are aspirations – for people of any genders. Ultimately, we can’t tell the future or heal each others’ wounds. But by interspersing the chorus with beautiful imagery of “the space between the midnight sky,” and “stars that whisper in the night” it feels like all those capabilities might just be possible for anybody and everybody, if only here on the dance floor.
“Better Man,” the album’s closing song, also aims to realize that kind of cosmic love. It’s one of the slower songs on the album, employing strings, muted production and voices layered in complex harmonies. Say She She describes finding a “better man” with the natural imagery of waves rolling in and swimming upstream. Paired with the occasional electronic sparkle, it’s a song Mother Nature would want to dance to.
Key Tracks: Better Man, Fortune Teller, Don’t Wait
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