Thao Nguyen’s first album in six years represents a deceptively difficult journey toward “full embodiment.” It’s basically an effort to stop observing life from a safe distance. Easier said than done, as it means acknowledging past pain and fully embracing anger and vulnerability in the present.
Nguyen’s debut LP under the simplified Thao moniker, Show Me (Kill Rock Stars) was self-produced with longtime collaborators Nate Brenner and Merrill Garbus of Tune-Yards. The product of divorce, its songs confront desire, family estrangement and queer identity with a directness Nguyen once found difficult to embrace—and she has help from Neko Case, the Linda Lindas, Adrian Quesada and others.
Moving between intimate reflection, indie rock and hip-hop and dance-floor grooves, Show Me caps an unusually varied six-year stretch that’s only reinforced the multifaceted Bay Area artist’s appreciation for songwriting.
“Interviewing other artists for the Song Exploder podcast and PBS’ Southern Sounds series helped reignite my excitement and appreciation for making music for a living,” says Thao. “Writing a score, filmmaking, musical development and book writing help me process all these ideas and find the medium that’s the best fit.”
Thao had a recent chat with MAGNET’s Hobart Rowland.
Would you elaborate on the “full embodiment” thing?
In a sense, this album is a real-time document of me resolving to be more awake in my life, more fully open to feeling the wide spectrum of emotion, acknowledging desire, the need to be in relation and true connection with people. That I’m a person who wants to live life on Earth, who needs things, who’s not just a floating observer.
You’ve dropped the “Get Down Stay Down” from your name because these songs feel closer to the bone, and yet you’ve spent much of your career making intensely personal music. What did it mean to simply put “Thao” on this collection?
I have made intensely personal music. But in a way, it hasn’t been personal enough, if you can believe it. In the past, I’ve been very open about past pain and trying to move forward, but I’ve employed lyrics to obfuscate truth around needing in the present-day sense—around what it is I want in the modern day, what I want out of life moving forward, how I want to try. I was tired of my bullshit.
“Take It Easy” is written in the voice of someone you were once married to. What did approaching the lyrics from her perspective allow you to acknowledge?
It helped me understand all the ways I needed to be accountable—all the ways I wish I’d conducted myself differently, and my gratitude for her grace.
On a similar note, “Nguyen Nguyen Lose Lose” addresses your estrangement from your father. What makes addressing such a painful topic necessary right now?
I’m at the place where I’d like to experience new life, out from under the influence of trapped past pain. I’d like to be open to the range of emotion as someone who doesn’t need the coping mechanisms of my younger self that were so vital but aren’t necessary anymore. I needed to tell my father how I understand, how I recognize what my inheritance from him might be—and how I’m trying to refuse to be like him, and to wish him well in this life.
Though you came out publicly years ago, this is the first time you’ve really written about sex and queer identity. What took so long?
Sometimes I ask myself that same question, and sometimes I have a lot of compassion for why … a lot of old stuff to work through. Artists being out and free and incredibly candid in their work is still a beautiful surprise to me. Times are so vastly different now in this sense. I’ve had to metabolize a lot of what I grew up with, and how difficult it was to be out when I first entered the scene in 2008. There was fear of professional backlash for being out—and despite of your highest hopes for yourself, you could find that you were holding back your truest parts so you’d have a shot at building the career you wanted. The same went for me being Vietnamese. The imprint of that weight is powerful. Sometimes it can freeze you in amber, and sometimes it takes a while to completely thaw out and claim your full dexterity.
See Thao live.
