Nisha on the rocks
Soft notes stroked on the keys of a piano set the trap, and by the time you hear Nishaβs vocals, quiet, but strong, she has you. You are fully invested in an honest tale of yearning for a feeling once hadβ¦except this relationship is a lot like hard liquor. Sweet madness in the moment, until the hangover is served with a side of regret in the morning.
Nisha is probably the best kept secret living in plain sight New York has to offer. When she isnβt locked away in the lab working on her own projects; SheΒ runs one of the NYCβs most successful open mics, Wildfire (which she started out of NYCβs Nuyorican Poetβs CafΓ©),Β she is a vocal and performance teacher at the Clive Davis Institute and for a Billboard charting artist, and an established songwriter in her own right. With all that under her belt and a new evocative electro-pop ballad, written with the lyrical care of a folk song, listeners will definitely await more from this new and curious voice.
Itβs been a minute since the world has heard a Nisha single. What was right about this song and this moment, to the point where you felt comfortable releasing βHard Liquorβ?
I think it was one of the scarier ones for me, even because of the title, ya know. I was very nervous and I felt like I had put my heart and soul into this song for two years. I kinda worked on it and then re-worked the track, re-worked the production, re-worked all the vocals. So, I was kinda playing around with the song for two years till I got it to a place where I wanted to release it and sometimes that can make things very scary. Because you feel like, βIβve spent so much time and invested so much into itβ. But, also because of that I know the song inside out and I was the proudest of it. So, it was the thing that scared me the most that made me know this song was the right decision.
A feeling of longing and need for connection is immediately felt when the listener hears the first words, βFill me upβ. Can you let us in on what inspired you to write such a vulnerable and open record?
Well, itβs that thing right. Itβs like why do people stay in relationships for so much longerβ¦and for me itβs like, when love is bigger than anything else. When how much you love or care about that person, blindlyβ¦and you invest so much time into it. Itβs sorta like losing that or the feeling of losing that canβ¦uhmβ¦really feel like losing someone. Like someone died, ya know? And I have this line, βI wanna raise the deadβ. And thatβs what it was. I mean, for me, the relationship was over, but those feelings were so intense when I had them and I hadnβt experienced anything like them, that it was almost like I wanted to feel that madness again. And thatβs really what the song is about. Kindaβ¦Not wanting to go back to that person necessarily, but wanting to go back to that place.
And also when youβre done with a relationship, you kinda try to go back and look at it from all angles. These are my drunk goggles into my past. Thatβs what it is. Where things are sweeter than they were in real life and moments are more bitter than they were in real life.
You wrote this song with a friend of yours and fellow musician, Terrance Thomas. How did the collaboration come to be, especially with how vulnerable the track is?
We went to high school together, since freshmen year, we spent together. So, weβve known each other since we were barely teenagers. And he doesnβt show up anywhere else on the EP, but for this song. We were in a writing workshop together and we had a song assignment. And he and I, weβre such good friends, so usually when we get into sessions together we spend most of our time talking. But, this time it worked out kinda cool, because we had this assignment; we had this push to finish something for class. I remember us just sitting in a studio in midtown. Literally this tiny studio. Smaller than most peopleβs bathrooms. And it was like a mic, a piano, and a window and it was freezing cold outside. And we werenβt thinking too much. We were just kinda like, β Ok, we need to write a songβ. And for me, Iβm always committed to telling a really honest story. Ya know, really telling the truth, even if it doesnβt make me look that good or maybe shows a more vulnerable part of me. And thatβs what we discovered.
And we had this title and this idea. And I thought there are many ways to write a song about hard liquor, but I wanted to access something really genuine about it.
Your vocal talent is rare, but your ability to write and get a listener invested in the story is on par. Your own background and upbringing was very international and a snapshot of many different places. How has that affected your writing?
Hmmm, I think the best thing that came out of growing up that way was that I love people and Iβm very curious, and Iβm not real scared of new thingsβ¦and I donβt mean that in a dirt way. But, I have a child-like sense of wonder about things, because I didnβt get attached. I didnβt get very habituated to a certain way of living. And the difficult thing about it is, I think thatβs why Iβm so interested in this whole idea of identity. Itβs jarring to move from Lagos, Nigeria to Central Florida. And it took me a long time to understand where I fit in or that it was perfectly normal that I didnβt fit in. And that was the source of me being an artist. The fact that I donβt fit in. The more I tried to be like everything around me, the tougher my life was. And the more I was honest with myself with what I wanted to do, the more fulfillment I got out of it.
So, you just came off another showcase with BMI. Youβve done shows and work with them in the past. How did that come to be and what can we expect in the future?
I love BMI. Theyβre like family to me. And the people who represent BMI are a huge part of the reason I am where I am, and Iβm working with a lot of the people Iβm working with. Its because of the support and the sorta development theyβve given me. People like Jake Simmons and Samantha Cox, who believed in me when I had a couple of demos circling and was gigging constanstly in the East Village.
Uhm, in the future, more writing, more co-writes. Iβm working with, Alyson Stoner, Toby Gad (who co-wrote John Legendβs hit song βAll of Meβ). And Iβm coaching with Daya, And Iβm just starting to kind of expand my work as a writer and as a vocal producer which is really fun for me. Iβm working a little bit more at, not just being the artist, but also being someone who has creative influence on other peopleβs projects. So, itβs exciting to start to do that, as Iβm releasing my own work. Cause I feel like I can finish my own stuff and still explore different identities, and different people, and other relationships through writing for other people and working on their projects.
You mentioned coaching with Daya (who recently reached top 25 in Billboards Hot 100 with her singleΒ βHide Awayβ). But, you also have a long history of mentoring and teaching, which has, lead to you currently teaching at the Clive Davis Institute in NY. How did this gift come to be?
So, with Daya I act as a vocal and performance coach, and as a bit of a friend, then a mentor. I just think sheβs a really direct and genuine person. And Iβm excited to see someone like that doing radio music.
As for Wildfire and the Clive Davis Institute and mentoring; thatβs something that came naturally. I never set out to be a mentor a teacher. In fact, consciously I think itβs something I maybe shied away from. But, it was one of those things where I loved listening to artists. Thatβs why I started the open mic, because I love that sense of community. And I think it just comes as a natural progression, when you are someone who is committed to building a community and being there for artist and helping artist along the way. People start asking for opinions and advice. I think that there are a lot of things artist are trying to figure out in the new context of the music industry and our biggest resource is each other. And thatβs really where I teach from. Itβs really about the relationships you develop.
I think thatβs what also makes me rigorous with myself. Like I havenβt released work as an artist in three years, because whatever I can offer the people around meβ¦Iβm so much harder on myself, ya know? And I think itβs important, so I can speak from experience. From trying and seeing what works and what doesnβt. And a lot of times students, itβs not that they need a teacher; they really need someone to listen to them. Just to act as a soundboard and hear what they really want.
And you mentioned it has taken 3 years to release music. Something had to change, why now?
So, I gave a Tedx talk recently and it was about the βArtist Identityβ and I came to the realization in the last year, that youβre not an artist if you donβt have an audience. Itβs one thing to be an artist in practice or an artist in development, but you donβt really feel the impact of it and it doesnβt really become real, until you have an audience and you have a relationship with them. So, I kinda realized thereβs no right time. And to spend all your time in the lab and never release work means you never really get to experience that relationship. And then your music really isnβt about other people and the impact you have on them, right? So, for me, I realized that there really is no right time. Ultimately, who I will be as an artist will be developed in a relationship with my audience, trying things out. And once I realized that, it became easier to say I love this song and I hope people hear it and like it. Plus, it was my birthday, so that seemed like a pretty good reason.
Now that we have the first single, what do you have in the vault planned for the world?
Well, Iβve got a couple songs that Iβm finishing up, which I love. Iβm writing. I mean. I write every week and Iβm in a period in my life where I feel very creatively inspired. So, my goal is to write as much as possible.
And for the new listeners just hearing about you and your movement, and new music; what will they receive from Nisha the artist?
Itβs funny, because itβs really different for me, as an artist, than anything else. Itβs where I get to go and be messy and imperfect. And itβs almost like itβs a relief. I think in order to be an independent artist, you have to support yourself, so Iβm pretty disciplined as a person about what I do and how I live my life. But, when I get to go be creative, I get to be messy, and imperfect, and do the wrong thing. And thatβs what I love about my work and thatβs what I want it to be a space for. Like itβs an escape from having everything together.
We all have those days where you just want to scream or take someoneβs head off, and the only place I could ever tell the truth was my art. So, yeah itβs messy, itβs imperfect, itβsβ¦yeah.
-JT Tarpav

