a song i liked: Self aware self-destruction on Tei Shi’s “Disappear”

a song i liked is an essay series that both reviews a new song and interrogates how it may either relate to other musical works or fit in to broader, more personal experiences

The first time I listened to Frank Ocean’s Blonde I was twenty years old and living on my own in Seattle. I had rushed home from somewhere, not sure where, my memory has lost everything B.B. (Before Blonde). I remember buying myself a pint of vegan chocolate ice cream and a bottle of Diet Coke. I set up my MacBook’s Photo Booth application to record the whole “experience.” I decided for the first time that night, laying on unfurnished hardwood floors, that I actually loved being alone. The quiet intimacy and vulnerability of Frank’s music colored my perception of my solitude as intimate and vulnerable. I held on to this feeling for years following, always turning to that album as a retreat, knowing how to nestle within myself for comfort.

One of the many lyrics off Blonde that echoes in my head like an iPhone alarm when I’m overwhelmed is “White Ferrari”’s ‘Mind over matter is magic, I do magic.’ While Frank’s whispered, desperate reminder of self-empowerment will be consistently comforting, I love the relief Colombian-Canadian artist Tei Shi’s “Disappear” offers on this very concept. Nestled in the middle of a 5-track EP released on July 17th, 2020, Tei Shi grounds her project “based around the apocalypse” (Tei Shi, 2020) on this acoustic bid to self-induced defeat and resulting escapism. After a few extended play releases between 2013-2016, Tei Shi released her debut album, Crawl Space, in 2017 with Downtown Records. The New-York based independent label’s roster also includes alt-indie favorites Santigold, Smino, and Tommy Genesis.

The first couple songs preceding “Disappear” boast Tei Shi’s compelling ability to produce distinct atmospheres with her music. “Johnny” sounds like it draws from the bright, rhythmic quality of Latin American dance music and the airy bounce of ‘80s Nigerian house music. “Die 4 Ur Love” returns to the electronic, indie-pop that runs consistently through Tei Shi’s discography. Both tracks explore her strong feelings for an other--an object of her affection or pain. When we arrive at “Disappear,” Tei Shi turns inward. The first verse of the song reveals an exhausted admittance of defeat:

Lately I got my mind set on failure

Wish someone appreciated my bad behavior

The circle I was running was a downward spiral

Made it to the bottom now I’m getting higher.

She admits, to the listener and herself, that her mind has led her to dark matter. Tei Shi opens on vulnerability, recognizing that she’s fallen claim to self-destruction. It can be hard and shameful to recognize that oftentimes a side effect of pain is how addictive it becomes. Cycles of sadness turn so familiar they grow comfortable. There are phases when even your best coping mechanisms fail you, but it’s even more alarming to discover when your behavior is actually self-destructive: “The circle I was running was a downward spiral.” Luckily, Tei Shi also knows that hitting rock “bottom” means she can now go “higher.” The bright side is often fleeting, though, and she spends the rest of the song desperately calling to “disappear”.

What’s more interesting to me, still, is Tei Shi’s beautiful juxtaposition of her self-awareness with her selfishness. Looking again at her first verse, while she describes her failure to avoid emotional defeat, she also yearns to be loved through those shortcomings. In fact, she yearns to be loved for her “bad behavior.” She knows she isn’t doing well, that she’s being bad, and can’t help but not care. The chorus even implores the person who’s disappointed her:

If you wanna disappear

Maybe we can disappear

If you wanna disappear.

We can disappear.

I first heard these lyrics as simply helpless forms of self-gratification as a result of suffering, but she then continues in a later verse, “I fucking desperately need your attention.” It’s suddenly clear Tei Shi is yearning for unconditional love. In the depths of darkness, the safety of unconditional love is a savior--and she deserves it.

On “Disappear,” Tei Shi and her co-producers Daniel Ledinsky and Filipe Castañeda rely on the stripped back acoustic-style production as well as a consistent chord progression and beat to highlight the lyrics and the monotonous nature of how she’s feeling. This production choice also highlights the lovely, melodic quality of her voice in her always expertly crafted harmonies. The track’s sonic makeup was interesting in contrast to Tei Shi’s usually more emphatically produced work that weaves her voice into the instrumentation. The song is instead produced to move more intentionally through her emotions and bring the listener down onto the couch where she’s probably lying, staring out a window, wishing she could be anywhere else.

Back in 2016, Frank Ocean reminded us that mind over matter is magic. While nothing in the U.S. has ever been comfortable or equitable for everybody, Frank’s words certainly preceded some unprecedented instability and collective mental chaos. Now, in 2020, Tei Shi offers a sigh of relief for our exhausted country, mid-pandemic and fighting against fascism. “Disappear” is a track that validates the emotional claustrophobia when matter crushes the mind.