Nisa
In the central scene of Agnès Varda’s 1988 “imaginary biopic” film Jane B. par Agnès V., Varda asks Jane Birkin why she never looks at the camera while being photographed. Birkin replies, “It’s too personal … Like staring at someone.” To which Varda suggests, “Maybe it’s a mirror,” underscoring just how difficult it can be to truly be at peace with oneself.
On her debut album Shapeshifting, Brooklyn-based singer/songwriter Nisa Lumaj, who records as Nisa, embarks on a journey towards self-acceptance, self-actualization and a coherent sense of identity—the kind that strives for an empowered, prolonged stare in the mirror, rather than a habitually uneasy glance. As a daughter of Albanian immigrants, Nisa grew up listening to traditional folk music, but as a young person living in New York City and studying in London, she eventually became immersed in the world of English-speaking pop music and enamored by artists like Björk, Peter Gabriel and PJ Harvey.
Shapeshifting is a reflection of this interest in forward-thinking sounds—encircled by disorienting processed electronics, chunky guitars, gauzy vocals and unusual melodic choices. With an ear towards the daring boundlessness of experimental pop, the immersive connectivity of club music and the stylish immediacy of rock, Nisa and frequent collaborator Ronnie DiSimone (aka Torna), who produced, mixed and co-engineered Shapeshifting, crafted something transcendent—simultaneously weightless and lush. These sounds are something of a departure for Nisa, whose debut EP Guilt Trip and follow-up Time to Plant Tears, both released in 2021, were buoyed by sparse indie rock and hinged on towering chorus hooks—largely a reflection of the music being made by her New York City peers. Her third EP, 2022’s Exaggerated, produced by Water From Your Eyes’ Nate Amos and peppered with sharp electronic beats and bubbly synths, marked the first step towards a textured pop palette and a truer encapsulation of her tastes.
The recording process for Shapeshifting began in January 2021 in a small 4x4 room wedged between two auto shops in the industrial Greenpoint neighborhood of Brooklyn. On the one hand, she felt physically restless and stuck—strumming a guitar and fiddling with a MIDI sampler in this cold, windowless room—but she also felt that way emotionally. At the time, Nisa had just graduated college and was grappling with the tough decision to seriously pursue music as well as a deeply personal reckoning with identity. Her junior year in London kickstarted the latter quest, introducing her to the idea of transnational identity and providing new experiences, which fed into a newfound sense of self. Though this post-graduation period brought challenges, she also felt her fully realized self coming to the fore—and with it, the ability to finally communicate honestly and access intimacy.
So it’s only fitting that Shapeshifting opens with the liberating jolt of “Ready Set!”, which Nisa describes as her most “literally this is me” song. “What is this aching in my bones?” Nisa sings tenderly about explosive emotional metamorphosis in the track’s final lines, with her voice slowly morphing until it’s rendered unrecognizable. At its core, Shapeshifting is about movement and transformation, and the way self-growth can feel simultaneously exhilarating, disorienting and uncertain. The rest of the tracklist is more abstract—characterized by visceral, urgent images signifying an inner upheaval, like elastic lungs and aching bones, and inspired by the vividly intimate poetry of Sharon Olds and the economical yet affecting lyricism of Tirzah.
Much of the writing is directed inward, such as “Pressure Principle,” which recounts a debilitating anxiety attack and provides calming instructions to “breathe through your teeth” and name “five things you see,” or “Vertigo,” which unpacks long-buried trauma about the destabilization of identity and being vulnerable with others. “Below me things feel hesitant / Painting with my fingertips / All the places we said we’d go / Is it free to be on the edge all on your own?” Nisa sings on “Vertigo” in a hushed voice over an acoustic guitar—cementing the record’s theme of swallowing fear and diving into the emotional deep end. “Dreamspeak,” a flowy, sneakily unconventional pop track, also finds strength in examining one’s hesitancy and ruminating on the painful isolation that emotional growth often necessitates.
Crucially, her lyrics also project an outer confidence, like on “Crossing,” which is a resolute affirmation of boundaries, and “Breach,” which opens with powerfully poised assertions: “Cut the shit and walk right in / A hall of mirrors / No illusions / No forgiveness.” By the final track “Trance Form,” it’s clear that a molting into a newly embodied self has taken place, but there’s also a wise acknowledgement that pain hasn’t been fully vanquished, but rather better understood and lived in. “Discover something new / Break alone / Heal in two,” Nisa sings with an arresting tranquility over amorphous gurgles and hisses.
Nisa’s music is as much a reflection of transformation as her lyrics. Her voice is often drastically distorted, and the prickly beats and jittery synth work make it hard to predict a song’s trajectory, like the futuristic patchwork pop of “Currents” or the dissonant synth-rock of “Breach.” Nisa and DiSimone describe her music as “post-pop” for its postmodern collage of sounds, inspired by everything from The Cars’ guitar tones and Charli XCX’s bold textures to Mica Levi’s experimental film scores and Kate Bush’s analog wizardry. Even songs with more straightforward structures, like the sultry grunge-pop of “Dance Alone” and the sweet, hook-driven rock of “Smokescreen,” have dazzling, unexpected sonic touches, and as always are anchored by Nisa’s graceful, magnetic voice—blanketing the record with a warm, softhearted glow.
The summer before Nisa recorded Shapeshifting, she watched Jane B. par Agnès V. for the first time and was gripped by Varda’s deconstruction of Birkin’s alluring, it-girl facade. It made Nisa reflect on her own masks and people-pleasing tendencies, but it also spurred a path towards the uncovering of her true self—an excavation richly captured by Shapeshifting, which serves as both a paragon of eccentric post-pop and a mirror for Nisa to proudly gaze into.
Connect:
itsnisamusic.com
Contact Management:
tom@hitthenorthrecords.com
Press:
tom@showyourbonespr.com
