Find Your Truth with Becca Stevens

Self-awareness is highly overrated.

Some kind of horrid confluence of Dr Phil, the demonisation of mild child abuse and the invention of hot yoga has been spreading like a virus through western society since the late 90s, resulting in the mass delusion that being honest with yourself about yourself is a good thing.

But in getting to experience the heady pleasure of all the self-denigration and vague depression we should have grown out of in our late teens, it’s easy to ignore the more damaging outcomes of supposed self-honesty, like validating an evil bald Texan without a medical license, children cooking their hands on every figurative stove they encounter and sweat-drenched white people using the word ‘chakra’ as a defence for not deodorising themselves in a public space after pledging physical fealty to a convicted rapist.

It’s also resulted in the proliferation of indie music which, perhaps at one time, actually represented a complex and varied array of music independent of commercial label group think, but has come to be defined by a nonthreatening mid-twenties-to-thirties person with a quirky haircut, a tiny guitar and a future serenading corporate wellness conventions.

There’s no sense in fighting it. There are far worse and more prohibitively expensive mass delusions in which to participate. So get acquainted with Becca Stevens.

Singer-songwriter Becca Stevens will deliver an exclusive set from her home in Brooklyn as part of the Royal Albert Home sessions. Since making her debut with the 2008 album Tea Bye Sea, the multi-instrumentalist has won plaudits for her distinctive blend of genres including jazz, Irish folk and indie-rock. Her latest album, 2020’s Wonderbloom, is a groove-heavy, dance-ready sound infused with elements of pop, funk and R&B.

Humans are fluid beings doomed to eternal confusion stoppered by death and have no inherent truth.

But goddamn if that bridge about the folkloric Shakespearean fairy queen sang over random out-of-context shots of Tanzanian people dancing around a fire followed by an intertitle about the systematic murder of albino children didn’t really make us feel like we truly realised something about ourselves.

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