Name: Sham-e-Ali Nayeem
Nationality: Hyderabadi (Deccan) Muslim American
Recent release: Sham-e-Ali Nayeem's Moti Ka Sheher is out February 03 2023.
Recommendations: Books - The Trauma of Caste by Thenmozhi Soundararajan, Rebel’s Silhouette by Faiz Ahmed Faiz (translated by Agha Shahid Ali), A Map to the Next World by Joy Harjo. Music - Myrrh by vhvl, Jazz Codes by Moor Mother, World Galaxy by Alice Coltrane, The Sufi Queen by Abida Parveen.

If you enjoyed this interview with Sham-e-Ali Nayeem, visit her official website for more information and updates. She is also on Instagram.



Where does the impulse to create something come from for you? What role do often-quoted sources of inspiration like dreams, other forms of art, personal relationships, politics etc play?

My impulse to create comes from inspiration in nature, dreams, human experiences, relationships. Creating offers an opportunity to cultivate places and spaces that are liberating, dignified— places of life, love, healing, truth and peace. For example in the song “Place of Birth” (ft Gabriela Riley) creation came from imagining how the infinite connection of an ancestral land can transcend exile.



Growing up listening to a massive and wide range of music and constantly reading books and poetry I was taken to these spaces and places by other artists. They were a safe haven and a sanctuary for me as a young Hyderabadi American Shia Muslim. They were the places to make sense of a world that often doesn’t make sense. This encouraged me to create. Make my own worlds. Imagine my own spaces.

Dreams also play a big part in my impulse to create. I kept a dream journal starting in high school where I would document my dreams each day. This practice helped refine my ability to remember my dreams in great detail and also find inspiration, patterns and messages in them. Often our loved ones who have moved on to the Hereafter appear in our dreams and share ancestral transmissions and messages. It is a gift and a blessing to meet in that space with them and remember and document what happened.

Music and poetry are a means of liberation, a prevention of erasure, a space to grieve, to witness and be witnessed, to archive memory and a means to remember. They are a means to imagine. Poetry is a form of distilled life, a space where we can assert our humanity in a landscape of dehumanization and music is a language of secrets, emotion, a wordless topography of spaciousness joy, love and truth. There are so many truths in both mediums. And they are deeply interconnected with each other.

My dearest poetic inspiration, Sonia Sanchez has said, "Poetry is a language that says, 'stay alive, do not die on me, do not move away from life.' Because poetry is life, and it keeps people alive." This encapsulates what is central to my creative practice and impulse for music and poetry.

For you to get started, do there need to be concrete ideas – or what some have called a 'visualisation' of the finished work? What does the balance between planning and chance look like for you?

I start from the emotion / feeling or something I’m grappling with or curious about. I do have a vision or an intention of what I want to set out to do but not as a finished final work. I don’t know exactly where it is going to take me, but I have a sense of my intention. I know the feeling. I allow the feeling to expand as it needs and allow the story to be told. I am a storyteller at heart.

For me the planning is the showing up. The practicing. The discipline and the persistence. The willingness to explore and make mistakes ... to take risks and find the path that feels right with attempts to execute the idea.

The rest is what some would describe as chance but I don’t see it as chance. I look at it as allowing myself to become a conduit to the story, the feeling and truth that needs to be told. An understanding. It’s part surrender and part deep listening and flow.

Is there a preparation phase for your process? Do you require your tools to be laid out in a particular way, for example, do you need to do 'research' or create 'early versions'?

Yes. I create many early versions from experimentation and play. I research all kinds of things. Like in “Goddesses and Doormats” (ft Gabriela Riley) I researched doormats and what they are made of.



Many are made of fibers of the coconut husk. So that led me to research the coconut palm. And I spent time with this dignified tree that is the foundation and essentially the essence of a doormat — the guts of Cocos nucifera. Strong, pliant, resilient, grounded. I spend time dreaming, researching and thinking about things in preparation. Then communicate and execute through the music and language.

The research allows for specific details, for example based on the research of the coconut palm in “Goddesses and Doormats”, I wanted to make sure to have some earthly grounded husk-like sounds along with the synths… so I used pistachio husks.

Do you have certain rituals to get you into the right mindset for creating? What role do certain foods or stimulants like coffee, lighting, scents, exercise or reading poetry play?

I learned to see the world in poetry from my late dad. I learned to listen to the world as music from my mom. My mind is constantly going with different creative ideas all of which go into the ether if I don’t show up, capture, follow up and spend time with them. Give them care. Show up for them. Listen. The most important thing for me is to show up. Even if it’s for a little while.

I’d also say going for walks. I go for walks or a run daily. That time with the land and in nature is essential to work things out unconsciously. Whenever I was stuck my dad would advise me to go for a walk and whatever it was would resolve itself. He was right!

When I’m creating I like plants around and warm soft light. Sometimes a candle, sometimes agharbathi (sandalwood, copal or frankincense). A glass of water or herbal tea. I don’t need these things— but they don’t hurt.

I created “Strangers on a Train” with harsh lights above me and my synth plugged into a guitar amp while sitting on an uncomfortable floor. So if I’m focused on something, the environment doesn’t matter.



What do you start with? How difficult is that first line of text, the first note?

I start with Bismillah. That’s for everything. And then it’s setting an intention. After that it’s showing up. It’s allowing space to mess around with the feeling or idea. It is giving yourself a chance to begin. That first note or line of text is always exciting for me.

The more time I take to practice and experiment, the more enjoyable that first note or line of text can be.

When do the lyrics enter the picture? Where do they come from? Do lyrics need to grow together with the music or can they emerge from a place of their own?

I begin with the poem. So the poem’s energy comes from a place of its own.

The music becomes a home or a landscape for the poem to dwell. An extension or sonic interpretation of the poem. A mirror. The poem and music become reflections of each other. The music expands the poem’s emotional reach. It is the place of wordless secrets, codes, maps and math. A means to find our way.

Often, while writing, new ideas and alternative roads will open themselves up, pulling and pushing the creator in a different direction. Does this happen to you, too, and how do you deal with it? What do you do with these ideas?

This happens to me and I am ok with it. I keep a parking lot for these new ideas and alternative roads. They can be stems of musical directions I’ve gone in that are muted or words that I keep in a doc called parking lot.

I’ve gone back to these and used them for something else. In some instances, if the new idea or alternative road makes sense for what I set out to do with my intention, I’ll take the new road.

There are many descriptions of the creative state. How would you describe it for you personally? Is there an element of spirituality to what you do?

One can only aspire to be a conduit to the Divine in the creative state. To me it is a spiritual act to create. I approach creating with reverence.
 
Especially in the digital age, the writing and production process tends towards the infinite. What marks the end of the process? How do you finish a work?

I could possibly edit something down or work on something both musically or written until forever. But sometimes you know when it’s just done from an intuitive place and if you don’t finish the work at that point, you then begin to erode it away.

Once a piece is finished, how important is it for you to let it lie and evaluate it later on? How much improvement and refinement do you personally allow until you're satisfied with a piece? What does this process look like in practise?

It’s good to step away and let a piece breathe before returning to it from a fresh place.

I can get a little obsessive with how much refinement or improvement I might allow. But it’s important to listen to one’s intuition when it’s time to let the piece go as a finished work because after that point you may wear away the whole piece altogether.

Creativity can reach many different corners of our lives. Do you personally feel as though writing a piece of music is inherently different from something like making a great cup of coffee? What do you express through music that you couldn't or wouldn't in more 'mundane' tasks?

Yes, though a great cup of coffee is enjoyable to make, creativity is different than a mundane task like that. It requires your full presence. Presence of mind, heart, body, spirit, breath and soul. It’s invigorating. Healing. A spring of life.

We express life through music— and as Sonia Sanchez said poetry [and music are] life and keep people alive.