The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Michigan in Color
6 — Wednesday, March 9, 2022
Growing up as a young South Asian
girl in a small city in Michigan, find-
ing representation in music always
felt nearly impossible. I had two easy
options when it came to listening to
music. I could either listen to whatev-
er was trending in the U.S., or I could
listen to the South Asian music my
mother would blast on her phone while
cooking. And as much as I loved lis-
tening to A. R. Rahman and Dhanush
while helping my mother roll out her
chapatis on a random Tuesday night,
I never felt seen by their artistry. It
wasn’t music I could dive into, get-
ting lost in the melodies, replaying the
lyrics over and over in my head like a
trance.
My knowledge of Tamil is very
limited. I can understand basic con-
versational Tamil and repeat back a
whopping 14 words. So understanding
fluent melodic Tamil was already a
challenge, but being able to sing along
to the lyrics was unimaginable. So I
did what 11-year-old me thought was
my only option — listened to the radio.
98.7 was my channel. I’d get into my
mom’s car from school and immedi-
ately pause the Tamil song she was lis-
tening to since I couldn’t understand
the lyrics, just to put on Detroit’s 98.7,
which played whatever was trending
on the Billboard Hot 100. Through
the years, this radio obsession quickly
switched over to whatever song my
brother played in the car through his
phone in middle school, eventually
then jumping to whatever my friends
listened to or what Spotify recom-
mended to me in high school. I could
understand and sing along to every
song I heard. But gaining this meant I
lost any form of the musical represen-
tation that the Tamil music gave me.
So a few years back, I fell into a Spo-
tify playlist searching frenzy, finding
South Asian artists that I could listen
to, enjoy and relate to. After finding a
few that I featured in part one, I decid-
ed to continue my hunt. Here are some
more of my favorite artists so far.
Nikhil Ramani
Nikhil Ramani is originally from
Chennai, a city in South India, where
my family currently resides. Both he
and his roommate, Luke Duckworth,
have been creating music together
and releasing it on Spotify since 2020.
Through this, Ramani has accumu-
lated over 1,500 monthly listeners. I
stumbled upon Ramani’s music last
October when I heard the duo’s song
“seventeen.” The song grapples with
the end of one’s youth: the period of
shifting from adolescence to adult-
hood, reflecting on all the fun times
they had as teens. The lyrics paint
a clear story about Ramani and his
friends when they were younger, filled
with imagery about the “Chennai heat”
and the “salty breeze” that loomed
around Ramani growing up. This
was one of the first things that made
me gravitate so strongly to Ramani’s
music. The lyrics were so direct, let-
ting me follow along to his story as if
I were there. It made his music feel
so homey and relatable. As if he was
someone you knew, could talk to and
listen to for hours. The music felt raw
and less manufactured, almost like a
home video, something so hard to find
nowadays. To get into Ramani’s music,
start by listening to “seventeen” and
“Halfway Across the World.”
Anjali Taneja
Taneja is an Indian-American artist
releasing music since 2017. Her latest
single, “How It Feels,” has been play-
ing on rotation in my Spotify playlists
since its release in January. Her music
takes a unique spin on R‘n’B through
a more indie sound, creating a flowy
feeling that cannot help but bring out
a deep calmness. The equal blending
between the music and more relaxed
vocals drew me into Taneja’s music.
“How It Feels” is a song that imme-
diately makes me close my eyes and
forget every pressure in my life for
two minutes and 18 seconds. Her song
“Paradise” has become another one
of my favorites. The song title itself
describes the vibe of the song, exud-
ing a light and airy feeling. To get into
Taneja’s music, start by listening to
“Paradise,” “Keepsake” and “How It
Feels.”
Shravya Kamaraju
Kamaraju is a singer and songwriter
who first started out by making covers
of popular songs on TikTok. She would
add desi influences, like adding Bolly-
wood mashups to the covers which led
to her rise in popularity. From TikTok,
she began creating her own music. Her
most popular song has amassed over
220,000 Spotify streams. I first lis-
tened to Kamaraju this past summer,
when she released “Fire Hazard.” The
song focuses on the outside world pres-
sures she faces as both a young adult
and college student. With lyrics like
“carrying the weight of the world on
my shoulders” and “all in good time
/ even natural disasters subside,” the
song centers on how she’s falling apart
with too much on her plate, but still
wanting more but with the hope that
eventually this feeling of dread and
pressure will pass. The upbeat music
contrasts with the feeling of mental
exhaustion translated through the lyr-
ics, highlighting the hope that things
will get better. To get into Kamaraju’s
music, start by listening to “Fire Haz-
ard” and “Night to Remember.”
hrishi
With only five tracks released on
Spotify, Indian American artist hri-
shi is quickly gaining popularity. He
brings his desi music influences into
both his TikTok covers and his origi-
nal music. hrishi was trained in Car-
natic music, a traditional style in South
India, for over 10 years, and highlights
this talent in his music while creating
Carnatic remixes of popular songs on
his TikTok. His song “20somethin”
begins with clear Carnatic vocals. The
song was released in May 2021 and
has already picked up over 130,000
Spotify streams. The lyrics focus on
young adult life and how it isn’t always
the life of the party society paints. To
get into his music, start by listening to
“20somethin” and “Paul McCartney
(superstar).”
Sne
With only 203 monthly listeners,
Sne’s music is severely underrated. Her
most popular song, “Honey,” show-
cases Sne’s smooth and sweet vocals.
Every time this song plays through
my earbuds, I can’t help but just fall
back in bed and lie there all day while
the song sits on repeat, losing track of
time in her melodic golden voice that
perfectly flows across the music and
immediately sends me into a trance.
The lyrics focus on fantasizing about
someone — the thought of them con-
sumes your mind the way Sne’s voice
does, echoing in the back of your head.
Where being with them becomes the
only wish and thought you have. Even
with only four songs out, Sne has
quickly climbed my Spotify hierarchy
and become one of my most listened to
artists. To get into her music, start by
listening to “Honey” and “Miss You.”
Dameer
Dameer is a singer and songwriter
born and raised in Bangladesh. His
Bangladeshi roots mix with the West-
ern musical influences he heard grow-
ing up to create his modern sunshine
indie sound. His song “Michelle,” with
over 700,000 Spotify streams, diffus-
es a happy feeling every time it plays.
Hearing the song for the first time sent
me into a spiral of queuing every one of
his songs over and over, until I could
quote every lyric. Dameer’s first 2018
releases quickly created buzz, lead-
ing to an album release in 2019 called
“For We Are Distant.” This past year,
Dameer has gone independent, break-
ing away from the label he signed
with as a teenager, releasing “Bashbo
Bhalo,” his first independent song as
well as his first song fully in Bangla. To
get into his music, start by listening to
“Michelle” and “Air.”
All these artists have given me music
that I can dive into. Music whose mel-
odies I can get lost in. Music whose
lyrics I can replay in my head. Music
that I can lie in bed all day and listen
to, daydreaming to the sound of their
voices. Music I wouldn’t mind play-
ing in the background while I help my
mother roll out another batch of chapa-
tis on the weekends when I’m home
from college. But most importantly, it’s
music that I can listen to and still feel
close to my South Asian roots. They’re
artists who represent me and artists I
can relate to. I have compiled a playlist
with all of the mentioned songs as well
as other South Asian artists I think you
should start listening to. I hope you lis-
ten and enjoy.
South Asian artists you need to start listening to! Pt. 2
Where are you from?
I have often been quite wary
of the question, “Where are you
from?”
Mainly because I felt like there
was no answer that accurately
informed the inquirer about who
I am or what has formed me.
You see, I could answer with a
good selection of locations, yet all
of them result in more questions,
more doubt, more confusion and
none of them provide the clarity
that you, the asker, might be look-
ing for.
I am a habitual victim of the
question, “but like where are you
really from?”
So much so that I refuse to
answer with a location at all.
I am from my father’s house, I
say
A man who arrived in the
United States at the ripe age of 29
as Adeoye but whose colleagues
currently address him by John
You see, I am no stranger to
assimilation
A month prior to my senior
year of high school, my father
informs me that we will be mov-
ing back to the states from Mapu-
to, Mozambique
My first day of school senior
year, I was introduced as “Sarah
from Africa.”
I had a strong accent that has
since been rid of
My Portuguese slang was not
quite understood
I am from throwing away parts
of my identity for the comfort of
others.
I am from my mother’s aspira-
tions
A woman who never fails to
plan
Who puts everything into her
children
Who taught me what it looks
like to be a good friend
I come from good friends
Around the world who know
me better than I know myself
Who are willing to give me
advice in English, in Portuguese,
in Yoruba, in whatever language
will make it stick that I am loved
I come from love.
I come from writing love
poems to boys who will never
read them
Writing lines like
“I don’t believe in scripted
prayers but the part about you is
pretty much the same every time”
Or
“To be honest sometimes I just
felt like your moon, an empty
beacon by which your light shone
through. I loved that I could
show the world what it was like
to be close to you.”
I am from looking for love in all
the wrong places.
I am from my paternal grand-
mother’s confidence
A matriarch who was the first
young girl in Ikere Ekiti, Nigeria
to pass the exam into secondary
school without status and with-
out wealth
I, too, am familiar with the
feeling of being in rooms that
people wonder how I got into
I am from constantly proving
that I am worthy.
I am from constantly saying
goodbye
Never getting attached
Always wondering when the
director will say cut
When I will be plucked out of
this scene and forced into anoth-
er.
I am from the theatre
A performer, truly
So much so that I no longer
know the difference between
who I am and who I pretend to be.
I am from a Black woman that
came from a Black woman that
came from a Black woman
Or whatever Rihanna said.
And I will give birth to a Black
woman
I am from amazing mothers
I am from never doubting my
appearance because generations
of men fell in love with women
that look like me.
I am from pretty brown skin
That people write poems about
I am from constantly writing
poems but never calling myself a
poet.
Courtesy of Sarah Oguntomilade/MiC
Design by Roshni Mohan
ROSHNI MOHAN
MiC Columnist
SARAH OGUNTOMILADE
MiC Columnist