assisted by chris williams
Sissy Misfit: “Judas Was a Tranny”
This year promises to be a trial by fire: The planet is burning, global fascism continues to rise, and the most liberal Pope in history died and was replaced by an American. On top of that, the Supreme Court in the United Kingdom just redefined the legal definition of “woman” to exclude transgender women, leaving access to medical care, spaces for women, and the future of trans rights in the UK in completely unknown. It’s like half the world is nailing themselves to homemade crosses and calling everyone “Judas” who points out their suffering is self-inflicted.
But amidst all that chaos, Sissy Misfit, the Turkish-born, London-based electronic musician as comfortable at Rick Owens’s front row as a South London warehouse carry at 5am, is crunching it all up in her headphones to create new sounds for a new world. Her second album, Crawlskin, is a noise-driven call to the beyond, reaching past the possibilities of human-made sonic creation to a primordial call that echos the cacophony and stillness of the womb. But what comes after you’ve explored the outer edges and a bit further? I sat down with the musician and producer to talk about the state of the underground music scene, worshiping icons, and what happens when you let sound carry you to a second coming.
Jacquin Cunningham: Tell me about what it was like to produce the video for you second album, Crawlskin, and how it’s a step in a new direction for you.
Sissy Misfit: My debut album rollout was so massive. We did 5 music videos and each video had a huge budget. One of them ended up being a short film of like 15 minutes. I had the funding last year from many things; I was getting a lot of gigs and Rick Owens, the project I did with him was funding a lot of those videos. So, I was able to put together teams and studios and people wanted to work with me.
But then it all died down—but I think it’s the whole underground music scene. There’s just no funding. So, I told myself there’s no way I’m going to make more music videos. Making them is a big joy but I just did not want this album to have visuals because I’m thinking about doing visuals for my next project.
JC: Mhmm.
SM: But knowing me and the way I work, I can’t separate visuals from the audio. So, this music video was just a collage of scenes and little fragments into the characters I portray in the album.
This is the most collage, cut and paste video I’ve done for myself. I call it architectural poetry in the way the visuals work.
JC: It’s interesting to hear you talking about the underground music scene funding, because I feel like it’s true also in New York. It’s really hard to have a night out.
SM: It is dumb, the audience doesn’t have money, the party organizers don’t have the money to give to the artists. Artists who are—I will say I think my profile as an artist is a little bit bigger than a small artist. I’m not really a medium profile artist when it comes to demand so when it comes to people like me, the scene is full of us. I’m not a big ticket seller name, I’m not a sold-out girly. What I do is still pretty experimental and underground.
When it comes to us, the funding has shifted away so fast with the rapid decline of the global economy, it’s not just the UK and U.S. Whenever I talk to my friends in Berlin it’s the same story as my friends in Istanbul. It’s a very weird time to be an independent artist. It reminds me of 2008…
JC: It does feel very similar.
SM: And the recession because the art you see is so exciting. The sounds are crazy, people are making crazy sounds. I’m so proud of everyone and the electronic music scene is thriving in creativity. But there’s absolutely no funding. I talked to some of my friends who are bigger profile artists who get many more bookings, and it’s the same for them. It’s just impossible to live off just music right now.
JC: Do you feel pressure, or have you heard of people talking about feeling pressure to do something more commercial?
SM: I don’t feel the pressure because this is my tenth year as a performer and producer. My line of work has always been the intersection of exploring pop elements through a more grimey, scream-vocally, experimental and noisy way so I never felt pressure. But I feel curiosity, I want to explore pop in a less experimental sense. There are a couple of projects I’m working on which are going to sound really commercial in a very Sissy Misfit way. But I did not feel pressure because I don’t trust being a producer and performer economically. I do different stuff. I wouldn’t say pressure; I just feel curiosity. I feel a need to evolve into a more basic version of myself to discover what’s there.
JC: It’s nice to be in a position where you explored so much of something that is the opposite of commercial. Once you have that vocabulary you can apply it to a sound that is a bit different to what you’ve been doing and that puts you in a unique position versus other people who are trying to make something that everyone wants to listen to right away, but then it sounds like everything else.
SM: This was the point where my curiosity began. I have a friend, I love her so much, I’m not going to name her, she is a doll. Let’s just say she is open with her words and we were at an afters one day and it was very crowded, people were getting to know each other and asking each other what we do. Then it was my turn and I said I was a producer, then I remember both of us being drunk and high and she turned to me with a cigarette and was like “You know what would be really fun? To have some songs from me to play at afters where people could just dance. It would be so fun girl; I want to show your music to people but it’s so scary.” And I just started to laugh. Like, “Yes, I hear you, you want to dance to me but you literally can’t!”
JC: It’s funny to hear that because one moment you’re like “Excuse me?” And the other moment you’re like “Yeah, I feel that, too.”
SM: I wasn’t defensive at all when I heard it. I knew it came from a place of love because she does love what I do and she supports me a lot. It was this attitude of she had enough of me just doing experimental music and she was like can you just make some songs that we can dance to. And I thought maybe it’s time to give back to the community.
JC: That’s such an interesting way to look at it. Because it’s like inviting them into a new space for you.
SM: I feel a great joy when I see my friends enjoy the art that I do. I started to imagine myself in that scenario where I make much more commercial songs and they play at afters with girlies. I love pop culture, I love pop music, so why would I not just explore that part? But this album is not pop.
JC: No, it’s not quite that yet. It’s a journey towards that. But it kind of reminds me of early Grimes, where you’re on that ledge and you can kind of tell you’re about to jump off it into something new. It’s a powerful place to be, is that in-between where you know you can do more, or different than what you’re doing now.
SM: I would be really bored and unsatisfied making the same sounds. I appreciate both types of artists. Some artists show cohesiveness by excelling in one sound and expanding that sound over and over like most alternative rock bands or like Lana Del Rey. It’s like the same sound on different platforms of expression. But then I really appreciate artists who show cohesiveness in the way that they evolve all the time where each project sounds different than the other. So maybe I feel a bit closer to the type of artist who keeps changing their looks and sounds.
JC: I remember when we talked before and we were talking about the visuals for this, and we looked at the deck and you said, “We can push it further, we can do something that’s outside of what I’ve done in the past.” I think that makes sense as a philosophy for you that you’re always embracing change not only musically, but as an art practice as well.
SM: I’m scared of losing myself to conformity. I really don’t want to be that person, but I sometimes feel that I’m going to be.
JC: Really?
SM: It’s just life. Sometimes being on a constant move, change comes naturally for me. But at the same time sometimes I feel like it would be so good to ground myself and be married in a small village town away from everything and everyone. And just be a simple girl. But then I go on vacations and I can only tolerate them for a maximum of 9 to 10 days.
JC: You play that role for a few days and then you realize this isn’t my life.
SM: Nope, I miss the girls.
JC: Yeah. You miss the girls, maybe you miss the gays sometimes if they behave.
SM: Yeah, I do. I really do. I think what I do and who I am is fed by chaos. The chaos that surrounds me. I’m not sure if I’m ever going to be a little village girl.
JC: Yeah…
SM: It would be nice, I’m not opposed to it.
JC: The music and the change can be its own form of escapism from that It’s like when you go dancing and the music is so good that you lose yourself for a moment and you feel like you’re somewhere else. I feel that can be more powerful than taking yourself out of it. Right now that everything politically is a nightmare and the economy is terrible, and we’re all like, what the hell.
SM: It’s bullshit. They can’t handle our freedom and expression. And if they want to say we’re sinners? Fine. Maybe Judas was a tranny! And having all the fun like us, too.
JC: But those dance spaces and being with people in a room is the only thing that can actually feel real.
SM: Especially for me, I grew up in clubs. I moved away from my parents’ house when I was 17 and found myself living with and working for a gang of a bunch of DJs and queer people in Istanbul. I literally grew up in a nightlife setting. That was all I knew about life for a really long time. It gives me a different type of euphoria and the feeling of being completely surrounded by music and people dancing. Not all the time for sure; I think hedonism can get really destructive and I’m like a very surprisingly scheduled, OCD girly who loves her sleep schedule and skin care. So, I indulge in hedonism, benders, clubs and everything but I also need breaks to take care of myself. Yet I can’t imagine a life for myself where I completely give up on being a club girly or going to live shows. It’s just impossible for me, I think.
JC: They’re going to be wheeling you in when you’re 80.
SM: No, for real. Whenever I see older people coming into clubs, because in London there are some raves that attract older generations of ravers, I live for them. I have a couple of friends in Istanbul in their mid 40s, I even have a friend who is in her early 50s. They still love the music as much as they did in their 20s, they still get a huge euphoria listening to DJ sets and exploring new artists. They’re all healthy as well, they found a middle ground where they can still practice this life in a healthy way. It’s inspiring. I really want to be like Madonna at 65—still jumping, performing, and screaming on stage.
JC: Being an icon forever.
SM: Yeah, I don’t think I’m ever going to stop.
JC: You get to a certain point as you age where you unlock new things. I
also think of someone like Michelle Lamy, right?
SM: Yeah. These icons like Michelle Lamy, Madonna, Grace Jones, they defied aging, they are still really quirky artists and people who keep pushing for innovation in looks, art, music, and performance. Those type of artists really inspire me more than the artists who grow to be more grounded. Especially when I look at people like Grace Jones, she doesn’t actively make music or perform, but she’s still so actively herself.
JC: Yeah!
SM: You see her interviews and the way she walks and talks. She was never playing a character, she’s always been out of the norm. JC: Their fan bases have a religious quality to them as well where they worship these women as guides and leaders.
SM: Exactly, because they see how committed they are to who they are as artists and people. Not everyone has commitment to themselves. Being committed to themselves and seeing that is very punk.
JC: It is very punk, and one of the biggest things that people in music and people in the creative fields sometimes deal with is this sense of nihilism. But I feel like when you look at Björk who’s wearing her full outfit with a mask and the hair but she’s DJing in a Reykjavík coffee shop for like 20 people. It’s cool to care about things, it’s cool to be invested.
SM: Exactly. I met Björk after one of her shows in London just recently this year, and I can confirm she is so cool.
JC: Really?
SM: Just being around her, I felt amazing. We just said “hi” and chatted for a short time—but just being in the room with someone like that, a great artist of our generation and hopefully many more decades to come. Just being in a room with someone like that and seeing that their energy is authentic. I felt almost blessed to be in her personal presence because she is a huge inspiration for me.
JC: I’m sure. It’s interesting that she started making music as Björk in the UK.
SM: The UK is really that girl. I feel like I’ve been in many different circles in Europe, the Middle East, the Balkans, and different musical cultures. Every city has something really cool about it when it comes to music and culture, but the amount of collaborations that you can create with different kinds of people, it’s so interesting in London that most of the people you talk to in this scene, most of them do some really cool shit that makes you say, “wow.” London has a way of bringing out the best creativity out of you. London is a bridge between European culture and American culture. It’s a middle ground, this island country, cold and distant, isolating. But even that has a different rhythm in itself to inspire you to work on stuff.
JC: It kind of makes you sit in a room and think about things.
SM: It really does, moving to London is not an easy experience.
JC: Yeah, I moved there when I was 18, I don’t know when you moved there.
SM: 4 years ago.
JC: But you’re right, once you do get there, everyone is down to do something because everyone feels within themselves that they need to do it.
SM: It’s such a fast paced city. I always say London is the place where people come to be “someone.” Some people just want to be underground alternative artists, some people come to London to be mainstream artists. But I think everyone comes here to become somebody or just show the world who they are because it has great exposure and platforms. It feels really big and small at the same time.
JC: It’s a comfort, but you can also get in trouble because of that, which is fun. But you know…
SM: Of course.
JC: How long do you think you’re going to stay in London? Do you think you’ll stay forever?
SM: I don’t think I can stay here forever. For now, I’m not sure because when it comes to me making decisions, it’s not just the dream part but also the logistics part in terms of the visa and residence permits. I’m going to be here for at least three more years because that’s the length I can ensure myself to get through protocol. I’d like to spend five more years ideally. That would mark ten years in this city. I think giving ten years to London is enough.
JC: Yeah, it’s very generous.
SM: At the same time, you never know. Something massive can happen to my career that makes me stay here too. I’m really open to possibilities, but I’d like to stay 4 to 5 more years and move somewhere warmer and cheaper.
JC: Warmer and cheaper.
SM: I’m fully a Mediterranean girly.
JC: You’re going to end up in Rome or something?
SM: I would very much like to live in Spain. That would be dreamy.
JC: A little Barcelona moment for you?
SM: Oof, I would love. I just really love Spain a lot.
JC: Yeah.
SM: It speaks to me, I feel it’s very similar to my culture as well: The way that people share food, cook, the way there is a vibrant rhythm in the music. The way people socialize with each other and the way that everyone is just so hot.
JC: The Spanish really know how to do it.
SM: It’s a beautiful culture.
JC: What did you grow up listening to?
SM: So many different things. I first adapted my parent’s music. I grew up in a very musical house.
JC: Really, how so?
SM: My father was really into arabesque, Turkish classical music. My father was very much in that world, he always rejected Western culture. He never wanted me to get adapted to Western culture; he was very critical of it. He’s a true OG Marxist, communist, a very harsh left wing girly. Just very strong minded. Whereas my mother was just obsessed with pop stars like Grace Jones, Madonna, Kylie, Beyonce, Gaga. We had MTV Turkey and she used to play it from—I’m not kidding—8am to 10pm. She would always buy bootleg compilations from the CD store. She was just very into pop music. She would always read tabloids and watch celebrity gossip shows. She was very much a pop culture girly, so growing up I was just getting the best of these two worlds.
And then when I grew a little older, like 11 or 12, I was just a very depressed kid, like a full doom and gloom kind of kid and I discovered metal music by myself through the archive of my cousin when we visited their home one day when I was 12 and he was 16. He would listen to Slayer, Opeth, and Children of Bodom. I heard that harsh sound, with guitar and scream vocals and just said, “This is me.” So I was a big rock music fan until I suddenly saw a woman on my TV. She has a music video and song called “Bad Romance.”
JC: Ahh!
SM: I saw Gaga on TV, I’m like 14 or 15, she just released “Bad Romance.” I’m like, “What in the intersection of Marylin Manson and Britney Spears is happening on television right now?” I was like hold on, she has a techno beat, she looks like a freak, it has a massive chorus, she looks really hot, like I thought I was gay but I’m really into her. And from there I was like okay, being really dark and really pop is possible. So I kept listening to “Bad Romance,” I was studying the production like, “What the fuck is happening in this song?” Like the hoover sounds, the hard bass with the techno kick. I was more interested in the production than the lyrics or vocals. It was the music video and production that opened my eyes. Before that I was a sound genre fascist, like the most pop I would go was Avril Lavigne. No pop music or no electronic music, but that moment completely changed my mind.
SM: I was a bit shocked because when she did “Bad Romance,” no one was being a weird girly.
JC: Yeah it was kind of after the recession, and everyone chilled out.
SM: Yeah, right after the recession, 2009. She came onto the scene at the same time as
Skrillex. So, it was this really weird time that I got into Crystal Castles big time, Crim3s, Grimes, Aphex Twin. I was just discovering a lot of electronic music and after two years, that’s when I lowkey ran away from home to hang out in electronic music clubs.
JC: Mhm.
SM: I was discovering drum and bass, hardcore, ambient music. I was like “Yeah, I think electronic music is where she’s going to end up in the future.”
JC: It seems like it’s a welcoming home for a lot of different people.
SM: Yeah, it really is. It’s one of the more freeing spaces in music. Because if you look at punk, rock, or metal music, those spaces are limited to certain groups of people. Not the music itself, but the community that comes with it. When you really get into electronic music, it’s the most innovative and experimental out of all types of genre communities. And it makes sense because making electronic music requires you to get on with the latest technologies and like sound design. There is a huge culture that says you can’t consume electronic music without consuming drugs which I don’t agree with personally; I find it harmful. But unfortunately, it’s the history of electronic music. Like house, techno, acid house are all very linked to upper usage. But getting out of yourself to have a sensory feeling can help open doors in your mind. There can be an alternative state of being even if it’s for a couple of hours.
JC: That makes a lot of sense because I guess electronic music is welcoming and expansive in part because it’s about reaching beyond what a person can do by themselves. You’re really trying to find something outside of yourself. Whereas if you just have a guitar and are strumming with your hand, you’re still connected to your own body.
SM: I don’t know, there’s just something about electronic music. I can’t talk about this without being logical because I don’t have the knowledge to speak about this, I’m just speaking with emotion and feeling. But I feel like hearing sounds outside of the acoustic norms, like the sound of a guitar or piano, vocals, strings or acoustic drum, hearing a distortion in the way that you consume sound can really play a big part in the evolution of your thinking. Because you are welcoming really out of this world sounds to your brain—unusual sounds and expressions. Because to me, the sound of a guitar or strings have an acoustic quality and when you hear them, they feel more human. It’s when you put in those synthesizers and effects and distortion, it’s almost like you’re interrupting the signal with distortion and noise. That can really elevate your brain and the way that you think.
JC: That can make you more open to other people too.
SM: Really, how so?
JC: If you’re listening to music with other people and they’re also experiencing these new frequencies and new sounds and patterns together for the first time. And when you’re in a space where that’s happening in real time, it can be resonant—
SM: I think that’s what makes it so exciting—sorry to cut you off.
JC: No, please do.
SM: I do feel that electronic music is the new punk, for sure. Because punk is a state of mind where the word got found when they were doing that type of music back in the day. But I don’t think it’s necessarily connected to a sound, punk can be anything. I really feel like a girl with a laptop who is just making really noisy music is the most punk thing that can exist in the space of music at the moment. Especially a trans girl with a laptop. A trans girl who produces is the most punk it gets at the moment. Especially in today’s world, it’s crazy.
JC: Yeah for sure. It’s the most powerful way you can take up space.
SM: Yeah I think so.
JC: Because sound really is space. It fills space.
SM: It’s also the most consumable form of art if you think about it. It’s the only form of media we experience even before we are born. When we are in the womb we experience the heartbeat of the mother. It’s so powerful, musical expression is really powerful in that way. It’s something really primal to being a human being.
JC: Funnily enough, my own mother got speakers when she was pregnant with me and she would play Yo-Yo Ma, the cellist. He plays Bach, Beethoven and other well-known classical music, and she would put that on her stomach when I was in the womb.
SM: I love that!
JC: And then, growing up I started to play the cello which is kind of weird.
SM: It’s scientifically proven that we consume music and sound when we are in the womb. It makes total sense, even the plants consume sound and move with sound. There was a time, maybe in 2015 or 2016, where people were just obsessed with experimenting with plants and mushrooms with synthesizers.
JC: Connecting them and playing stuff through them?
SM: I don’t know if you remember, they were watering plants, one plant would be played metal music and another plant would be played classical music. I remember there was a resurgence of these experiments being made on plants and animals with music, it’s the tea.
JC: Totally, you can’t escape sound, it’s everywhere.
SM: Yeah.
JC: Especially when you’re in a dark venue and it’s kind of hot and there’s so many people and you’re listening to something maybe you’ve had a lot to drink, maybe you’ve taken something or maybe you haven’t. But it’s really loud and you can’t hear everything that well, and it’s like you’re floating in the water inside your mom when you were a baby.
SM: Yeah, that’s true actually.
JC: Electronic music has that ability more than other genres to connect you back to that sense.
SM: I think so too. I don’t know how and why but I think it does. Because electronic music can be really nonvisual. When you put live instruments on stage, like going to a rock show is different because it is more of a visual performative act. Whereas electronic music can be very discreet in the way of where it’s coming from, how it’s sounding, or who even is playing it. You can flow through it.
Crawlskin is availible wherever music streams and on bandcamp. Mixes availible on Soundcloud @sissfymisfit.
images
cael devers
styling
chris williams
make up
frankie baumer
set design
femiola o’brien-dele
photo assistant
samuel gurung
styling assiantant
yokai de guzman
production assistant
anju kusamoto
cael devers
styling
chris williams
make up
frankie baumer
set design
femiola o’brien-dele
photo assistant
samuel gurung
styling assiantant
yokai de guzman
production assistant
anju kusamoto