Conformity and convention have rarely been the winning traits tucked away in an aspiring musician's arsenal. If we stick to the notion that music is an art form (more than a commuter's distraction), then it needs to grab us; make us think, let us feel, and leave us wanting more. Perhaps Brooklyn-based Elliot Lee's original musical intentions are not so lofty, but when put down on paper and recorded, they come out splattered on colour-shocked canvases, with her latest effort "Pink (Freak)" acting as a stark example.
Honest and untethered, she unloads a stream of criticisms at the world that dares to assume her identity—"I've tried to be what people think of when they see me | That gave me an ego that wasn't even mine though". And just as you get comfortable with the hard-hitting lyricism and robust percussion, she flips it on its head and breaks out into a melodious bridge. Softly cooing tender "la-la"s, she briefly steps out into an open space where singular piano keys slowly devolve into rambunctious drumming once again. It's a constant push and pull, juxtaposing the bitter with the sweet in an audial and visual pursuit to set the record straight on what sadness (and depression) look like.
"The video has two very different visual portrayals of how I feel, one very dark and hopeless and the other bright and energetic, but these juxtapositions are portrayed as being both part of me simultaneously," she shares over email. "It's meant to show that I can be three-dimensional as both a person and an artist, and how you interpret me depends on whether or not you judge how I'm feeling based on how much pink I'm wearing." Because if the colours blue and pink can start transcending gender roles, why can't they do the same to emotional states?