In 2019, Isabeau Waiaʻu Walker quit her job as a teacher with the aim of becoming a full-time musician. Despite the disruptions of the pandemic, Waiaʻu Walker has succeeded. Waiaʻu Walker, who sometimes sings in her native Hawaiian, released her second album, “Heavyweight,” last month. Waiaʻu Walker joins us in the studio for a conversation and performance.
Note: The following transcript was transcribed digitally and validated for accuracy, readability and formatting by an OPB volunteer.
Jenn Chávez: From the Gert Boyle Studio at OPB, this is Think Out Loud. I’m Jenn Chávez. Portland musician Isabeau Waiaʻu Walker has been embracing music fully since 2019, the year of her early retirement from teaching, with a goal of doing music full-time. And through the thick and thin of the pandemic, she’s done it. And now she’s out with a brand new record: her second LP, “Heavyweight.” For the rest of today’s show, we’re hanging out with Isabeau and friends in our studio, to talk about the new album and hear some songs. Isabeau Waiaʻu Walker, thank you so much for being here. Welcome.
Isabeau Waiaʻu Walker: Thank you for having me. Thank you for having us.
Chávez: Yes. I can’t wait to get into the music, but I just have a quick question first. So the cover art on your latest record, “Heavyweight,” has you sitting in the corner of a boxing ring. You’ve got a shiner. Three people surround you, coaches maybe, giving you advice, a sip of water before you perhaps return to the ring. You’re looking at the camera, and you’re almost smiling. What does this image communicate about where this record comes from, and what it’s about?
Waiaʻu Walker: Yeah, I do have a shiner. I’m glad that you mentioned that. Because the imagery for that album cover is … I mean, it’s a display of how these last few years have felt. And, as you mentioned, the pandemic, yes, that has been a part of it. But the years have been difficult on a very personal level, my family, and then I feel like if you go out into the tears of the community further and further out, it’s mimicked the same difficulty. But I didn’t want these songs to be a surrender. So the shiner, the exhaustion, the sweat, the kind of collapsed shoulders of that album image, it is how I felt. Life has taken quite a toll. But I have felt very stubborn and persistent to keep on. And there’s a lot of good, there have been a lot of good ones, a lot of good people, and a series of really beautiful moments that have made it feel like it’s worth, I guess, in this case, getting back in the ring.
Chávez: Yeah. Thank you. I love that. So I want to get to your first song, and it is a beautiful tune called “Plant in Spring.” Before you start playing, could you introduce the fine folks that you have with you in the studio today?
Waiaʻu Walker: I have some of my band, some of the Noise Boyz here: Alexander [Thomas] and Ayal [Alves]. You’re gonna hear them. You’ll hear their voice, you’ll hear their instrumentation. But I’m really glad that we’re all here together.
Chávez: And, sorry, real quick, can you tell us – is there anything we should know about this song before we listen to it?
Waiaʻu Walker: Oh, this will land with anyone who’s beginning again.
[Waiaʻu Walker, Alves and Thomas performing “Plant in Spring.”]
It’s time to wash your hair, dear girl
hot water, cold water
wash off the week
I would take my own picture but
the neighbor’s bedroom
Window is too close
And I’m too shy to play
Beautiful in public
Windows open
My body naked
Safe and warm on our new floors
Windows open
Breeze to bathe us
Never known freedom like this before
Fight demons
Burn bridges
Draw up plans
Plant in spring
Hot water, cold water
Wash off the week
Time to wash your hair, dear girl
Hot water, cold water
Wash off the week
Could I bother you to take my picture?
Let myself hope
My hair done up
For my own sake
Something to prove I am awake
Hallelujah, Amen
Hallelujah, Amen
Hallelujah, Amen
Hallelujah, Amen
Windows open
My body naked
Safe and warm on our new floors
Windows open
Breeze to bathe us
Never known freedom like this before
Windows open
My body naked
Safe and warm on our new floors
Windows open
Breeze to bathe us
Never known freedom like this before
Fight demons (fight demons)
Burn bridges (burn bridges)
Draw up plans (draw up plans)
Plant in spring
Hot water (hot water), cold water (cold water)
Wash off the week
Fight demons (fight demons)
Burn bridges (burn bridges)
Draw up plans (draw up plans)
Plant in spring
Hot water (hot water), cold water (cold water)
Wash off the week
[Song ends]
Chávez: That was so beautiful. Folks, we’re listening to Portland musician Isabeau Waiaʻu Walker. That was the song “Plant in Spring” off her newest album, “Heavyweight.”
OK, I noticed a couple of things. First of all, “washing your hair” shows up a few times on this record. And also this lyric in the song you just played is so relatable to me: “My hair done up for my own sake. Something to prove I am awake.” I feel like there’s something there about like the basic things that we do for no one but ourselves to remind us that we’re still alive, still moving.
Can you talk a little bit about this, the symbol of like washing your hair? Especially when you said before the song that it would sound familiar to anyone beginning again.
Waiaʻu Walker: So I have a lot of hair on my head. Literally, hair washing is a scheduled weekly thing for anyone with a lot of curly hair. It’s not a daily thing, but it is very laborious, and somehow I’m always wanting and needing it but deferring it. And so it is an actual task that I defer, but it is also – at least in these songs, and probably why it’s showing up, and I didn’t even mean for it to show up as often as it did – it is a ritual to take care of oneself. And if I’m pouring out my cup on behalf of others, as I hope I will, and as I hope we will for others – like, show up – I have to return back and fill up my own cup. And, for me, that is the ritual, tending to my hair. There’s no way to rush it. I mean, there is a way, but then it will look and be unmanageable. So to do it right is to take care and slow down. And even just the treasuring myself enough to do that, and to do it with care, and to look forward to it. So, yeah, the hair washing, especially for “Plant in Spring” is there. And then I think “Confession” is the other one.
Chávez: Yeah.
Waiaʻu Walker: I was talking to my friend Julia, who I play in another band with, and we, in the van, were talking about how we would go to a salon just to have someone wash our hair. So like the touch, someone massaging your scalp, it’s so gentle. And this task that’s always deferred to do on your own, that when someone else does it for you, the intimacy of that, it feels very pure. I’m sure my hairstylist is like, it’s not that for you. But it feels so good that I feel like I would just melt in it. So part of my secrets coming out is like, if someone were to tend to me like that, I’d be an open book.
Chávez: Well, that’s another great song, “Confession,” later on the record. But right now, I want to hear the second song that you all have prepared for us today: “Better by You.” And is there anything we should know about this song before we listen?
Waiaʻu Walker: It is not a breakup song. I’m sure others have done this, but maybe my admittance to have fallen short in relationships and not necessarily owning it till afterwards.
[Waiaʻu Walker, Alves and Thomas performing “Better by You.”]
I don’t know if there’s just one but I
know that there are ones who will
love you to the bone
And it feels different, lighter, deeper,
worth fighting for and you return
there cuz their body is a home
I could’ve done better by you
I could have loved you better
Longer patience
And every day kisses
Its endless, the ways you can shut
off and shut down
Avoidance feels safer at the start
Then it boils and it burns and
before you call it, it turns, and
you’re left with “What if I called home?”
I could’ve done better by you
I could have loved you better
Longer patience
And every day kisses
But I didn’t
I could’ve done better
You could have loved me better
I could’ve done better
You could have loved me better
I could’ve done better by you
I could have loved you better
Longer patience
And every day kisses
But I didn’t
Better, better by you
Better, better by you
Better, better by you
Better, better by you
I don’t know if there is just one
But I know that there are ones who will love you
To the bone
[Song ends]
Chávez: That was Isabeau Waiaʻu Walker playing “Better by You” off her newest LP, “Heavyweight.” Thank you so much. I’m just sitting here thinking about how lucky I am to have this job, where I’m just sitting here right now listening to you guys play music. It’s amazing.
I love how you write about love in these songs. Another song on your album, “Love You Back,” you sing about a big expansive love with no borders. And you also write about, I think, platonic love and the support of your friends. And there’s one thing I want to call attention to because I found it really notable. You have this song, “All My Friends Think I’m OK,” which really connected for me. It’s kind of about the difficulty of feeling like you can really share yourself, and whatever maybe dark stuff is going on, with your friends without feeling like a burden or an inconvenience. And I’ll just share, I struggle with that a lot.
And then a couple of songs later in “Am I laughing Yet?” there’s a break in the singing, and this person speaks, and they say in this loving tone, “It’s not in my power to undo those years before, but I’m here now. I’m here now with love for your past. You’re now in the mystery ahead.” It seemed like almost a response to what you were talking about. And I found it very moving. What have you learned about how to share yourself with friends or other loved ones, like even the dark stuff? Because I think that’s really hard.
Waiaʻu Walker: It is really hard. And I don’t think any of these are prescriptions exactly for how to do it. But I do know that when I wrote “All My Friends Think I’m OK” – that last tag in the song that comes a little later that feels like a response, there’s quite a bit of time between writing in “All My Friends Think I’m OK” in that portion. So there was an actual lapse of time where I had to go and reevaluate why I’m having such a difficult time letting people who have demonstrated time and time again that they care about me, and they love me … why it’s so difficult to, at least it was for me, to burden them with another thing.
And I mean, you wake up every morning and you know everyone is just carrying such a load that the idea of bringing mine to the table just always just felt like too much. And then on the other side that was, and if they can’t hold it, then I’ll have to deal with the reality that the people that I love, and that I trust, that I am in fact too much. I almost didn’t want an answer for it. So it felt, yes, safer to just hold it close. I think it’s probably a combination of me doing some really intentional personal work and then, those loved ones, their persistence to keep asking how I am.
And me, just practicing. At this point, I’m still just practicing expressing what I’m feeling. And then when it’s something I want, practicing saying what I want on a small scale and on a big scale, knowing that they’re not meant to fill it. Like me practicing saying what I want, is not me assuming that the person in front of me is responsible for mending, fixing or filling it. But at this point, I just got to get some reps in learning how to say the thing. And, more times than not, people have been wonderful. Those friends have stepped up. And that friend that’s speaking with me, that’s Vaughn Kimmons, and it’s one of my dear friends that has reminded me like to speak up, say the thing. If she can love me in that way, she will by helping me, whatever that need is, or that my burden is not going to crush her.
Chávez: Yeah, I’m so glad that you have that support.
Waiaʻu Walker: Me too.
Chávez: Well, I want to end with one more song. And we might not have time to fit it all in, but I at least want to start it.
But before we do that, I’m going to quickly wrap up our show. So this has been Isabeau Waiaʻu Walker, Portland-based musician, joined today by Ayal Alves and Alexander Thomas. Your new album “Heavyweight” is out now.
Have a great day, and let’s leave you with another song: “Boys and Friends.”
[Waiaʻu Walker, Alves and Thomas performing “Boys and Friends.”]
everyone needs a look out
a tag team “I got your back” now
yeah, for the fight
but more for the nights
when I can’t sleep
I can’t sleep
Sadness will be loud
when told to hide
all of the boys are taught
it’s all muscles and pride
needed a friend
a good one to stay
everyone needs
everyone needs
everyone needs
a team
mate
And we all have em
unmet, unexpressed needs
shamed by the attention
without words
it is tough
to imagine
connection
Sadness will be loud
when told to hide
all of the boys are taught
it’s all muscles and pride
needed a friend
Just one good one to stay
everyone needs …
[Song fades out]
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