Nilufer Yanya is less interested in naming emotions than in learning to trust them, which isn’t always a straight path. Her songs cycle through a variety of themes and emotional states, and she has a way of finding warmth and purpose in the in-between where others see a maze of unanswered questions. “There’s nothing there/For you and me/I’m not going anywhere/Till it bleeds,” the London-based singer-songwriter sang in the chorus of “Shameless,” a highlight from her superb 2022 LP. No painAnd that same sense of meaninglessness and nonexistence creeps into her latest work. My Method ActorIt’s unclear whether it’s a storm or some kind of certainty she’s after, but Yanya steps into it with a deeper confidence and purpose. And that motility is as essential an element of her music as anxiety or exhaustion. It begins with a declaration: “What are you looking for? / If you’re not sure, shut up and raise your glass.” The nature of Yanya’s songs is often interpersonal, if not conversational, but “You” represents something much more than one person. It’s as much about self-discovery as it is about community. “People like you and me get bored / The dreams of people like us fade,” she sings on “Method Actor.”
Yanya knows that these people tend to listen. My Method Actor is a record that demands a careful listen. That’s not to say its complexity makes it a difficult or particularly rewarding listening experience; like Yanya’s previous releases, it’s easy to lose yourself in. But like its predecessor, this album further tightens and refines Yanya’s approach, first and foremost by narrowing down his pool of collaborators. Long-time collaborator Will Archer helped write and record the songs in London, Wales and Eastbourne, and Yanya attributes the album’s intensity to working within their creative bubble. It’s also My Method Actor It feels more cohesive and streamlined, but that fact doesn’t dull its impact, rather it gives Yanya more room to focus on the flow of emotion, allowing the listener to better appreciate it.
And when it opens up to other musicians, for example Archer’s string arrangements, the effect is even more pronounced. Yanya is a master at capturing the nuances of human dynamics, and few of her songs achieve this better than “Mutations,” which glides from a light rhythm into what the singer calls “unfettered” open guitar chords, before leaning back with a relentless groove (“Don’t stop, just listen”) and finally, a cello played by ClÃona Nà Choiráin underscores the plea. The same instrumentation underscores “Ready for Sun (touch),” which is searching and more weighty. It’s unsupported by any percussion other than a faint pulse of static, and yet it offers the greatest revelation: beauty in the pain, a chance to fill the void. And Ellie Consta’s violin, expressing an ineffable sense of mourning on “Faith’s Late,” is powerful and clear.
But of course, it’s Yanya and Archer who carry most of the magic here, delivering a richly expressive emotional shift that colors and guides the imagery that guides the lyrics. When she asks, “Can you hear me tearing up right now?” she seems directly inspired by a distorted guitar that breaks through, transforming the crunching sounds of “Method Actor” into the sound of teeth jutting out as well as words. “Just a Western” is a fitting title for its cinematic arrangement, but it’s seemingly small decisions like the classical guitar timbre and Archer’s unexpected backing vocals that give the song its shape. The pair are extremely attentive to the layering of the vocals, with the three lines of “Call It Love” coming one after the other and treated a little differently. This detail and intensity of exploration is, in part, the result of a song that’s been sung by the vocalist for over a decade. My Method Actor Reflects many of the same questions and trends No painBut it’s clear that Yanya is someone else: “You know I’m not ashamed to dive in to find the darker shades of nothing,” she asserts on “Made Out of Memory.” Yanya seems to challenge us: if we end up with nothing, if the end is our only destiny, then what does it matter? Look at all we’ve squeezed out in the process.
