Feature: Nilsa No One Decodes ‘Cracks in the Pavement’
What was the creative process like for this particular EP?
Oh my God. Ok, well, there are sort of two parts to this question, because there was the writing process and everything else that happened in between writing and finally pressing record, and then there was the recording process itself. I wrote most of the tracks in 2017 as my first songs ever, started gigging in 2019, took a break to focus on completely losing my mind during covid and until 2023 when I put the band together with JJ on drums, who was a pandemic-era-dating-app find, and Jesse on bass, who’s been a close friend of mine since high school. That summer, we booked a free recording session with a student to record the title track as a single and the recording we got was pretty unusable. I had sent it to a friend from the music scene, Tre Pham, to mix and remember him being like, “this song deserves better,” which stood out to me. So we tracked 4 songs at his house, and our drummer was busy so we got the drummer from his band, Mike Krieger, to play. It didn’t get any more straightforward from there. We chaotically switched mixing engineers halfway through, and we slowly realized that the drums on “Lucid Dreams” weren’t working for us (there was a misunderstanding regarding the feel in the initial take) and re-recorded them a year later with our usual drummer. We had a third mixing engineer mix that track so the guy who mixed the others could focus on wrapping up the other 4. Oh, and I recorded vocals at home because I was too nervous to lay in down in the studio, and it took me 6 months to get over my own BS and get it done. That also gave me the opportunity to throw the outro, “How Can the Flowers” into the mix with a guest feature from my neighborhood birds. So, 8 years of writing and gigging, 4 recording studios, 3 mixing engineers, 2 drummers, and a partridge in a pear tree later we have a 20-minute EP. I’ll definitely do my best to optimize that process going forward.
Were there any memorable or standout moments during the recording sessions for 'Cracks in the Pavement?'
I can’t remember anything funny or interesting really happening at all. It all was just kind of, “ok, we’re here, let’s get to work.” I think the overall, whirlwind process we went through was a lot more interesting than any individual moment that I can put my finger on. I do remember being hesitant to re-do drums on Lucid Dreams, just because my burnout with this project was becoming so strong, but then feeling this rush of hopefulness and pride in my own patience when we finally got JJ into the studio to track them. It was this rush of like, “yep, this is it. It’s all finally coming together” while I listened to him play. I also remember being so ready be done that when it came time to record the 55-second acapella outro track, I just used my first take that I got while my friend was on her way to pick me up for a party. When she got here, I had just had the idea to use the bird sounds I was hearing from outside and was halfway out the window with my condenser mic trying to capture the birds. I was like “I THINK I JUST FINISHED THE RECORD WHILE YOU WERE DRIVING HERE BUT I JUST NEED TO GET THESE BIRDS” and was knocking gear over with my mic cable erratically trying to get the bird sounds. She was like “Oh, ok.” So I guess there wasn’t so much a partridge in a pear tree as a bluebird in a pecan tree, but the point still stands.
Can you talk about any standout tracks on 'Cracks in the Pavement' and what makes them special to you?
“Lucid Dreams,” “Cracks in the Pavement,” and “Eye of the Other” were the first 3 songs I ever wrote, in that order. I was maybe 21 when I wrote them, 29 now, and had been playing guitar for a year. Up until that point I was dealing with some pretty profound insecurity regarding my creative aptitude and basically was afraid that I was somehow lacking an innate quality that would make writing my own music possible. Ironic, now, because I probably take more pride in my songwriting at this moment than my vocals or guitar playing. But I was struggling with that idea of being incapable, and wouldn’t be able to prove myself wrong until I finally succeeded in finishing a song that I thought was good. I had just gotten back from a month long yoga teacher training in Nicaragua and had had a glass of wine with my mom, then went home and “Lucid Dreams” just sort of poured out of me. I was in disbelief and elated, because I had proven my fears wrong and if I could write one song, I could write another. After Lucid and Cracks, I spent maybe a year not showing them to anyone because I was so scared that they were garbage. I gifted “Cracks in the Pavement” (song) to my first band to put a setlist together initially because I was so convinced it wasn’t important, or was a throwaway song of some sort. I saw how seriously the band and audience took it in rehearsals and at our first show, and was like “oh, crap, oops, this is actually good” and realized it was important for me to sing myself (I didn’t sing in that band). I was like, “sorry guys but I’m taking it back.” In 2019, I started playing solo shows, and then obviously 2020 happened and it wasn’t until 2023 that I started gigging again. So, all in all, a long process before ever pressing record. But these songs are super important to me, having made me feel valid as a musician in a time when I felt anything but, and I watched my confidence grow with them and through them. I expressed complex ideas through them that were imperative for me to channel in creative form— the existential grief of climate change in Cracks, feeling out of control within one’s own life & mind in Lucid, and only really existing in reference to other people in Eye.
Can you tell us more about you as an artist?
As mentioned, I was a geriatric guitar player (started at 20). I brought all the damage of someone who’s already been through a turbulent childhood and adolescence into creating and spent my first few years feeling like I was playing catch up. And I mean, I still fantasize about the technical skills I would have developed by now, and all the instruments I might be able to play had I been able to start when I initially wanted to, in childhood. But also, like, how played out is that story? I hope that I can bring a refreshing perspective to my medium as someone who spent so much of my life longing to be able to do what I’m doing now, and that I can be a source of inspiration to others who fear that not fitting into the standard narrative of musicianship is a roadblock. And when I look back, I don’t think that I was ever going to be anything besides an artist of some sort— its all I ever wanted to do, I just wasn’t in a position to do it until I was. I think I’m extra grateful to be able to do this, because I distinctly remember when I couldn’t— at times for external reasons, at times for internal reasons.
What are some of the biggest challenges you have faced as a musician, and how did you overcome them?
Definitely the aforementioned insecurity. I fell into the vibrant mid-2010s punk & metal scene of Austin in my teens, and still credit that for much of who I am today, but not having a musical background myself my appreciation of being included slowly fragmented into jealousy and self-consciousness. My biggest challenge was definitely trying to start initially, as I was beginning to feel like a shadow artist and side character in an overwhelmingly male-dominated musical environment. I was so scared of anyone knowing that I was learning, and of the embarrassment that would follow in the event of failure. I was obviously taking it incredibly seriously, even when playing was only an idea, and I see now that that wasn’t unfounded, as music and playing my own music is still one of the most important aspects of my life. When I was 19 I saved up a ton of money bartending, and ended up deciding to take a year off to learn guitar. I practiced manically, to the point of injury even, and refused to go out or to see anyone almost entirely. When someone did come over, I would scramble to literally hide the evidence that I’d be practicing so no one would ask any questions about it or ask me to play for them. I want to stress here that no one was being mean to me, this was all self-imposed ridiculousness. I wanted to be a virtuoso from day 1. It definitely wasn’t the best or most joyful way of learning, but it may have been the way that I had to do it, as I was fighting my own inner demons as a fought my way through scales and arpeggios. Slowly, I began playing in front of people and eventually started to feel like a “normal” musician, but it certainly didn’t come easily or quickly. Around 2019 I joined my first band with some buddies from high school and was overjoyed to be welcomed back into the world and my community as a guitar player with open arms, and ample opportunity to play with others. Actually, a lot of people didn’t even really notice I had left, and were like “woah, how’d you get so good overnight?” I was like, “Dude, I haven’t seen you in 2 years.”
