Question Love, Reality, and Genre With 19 Masters as Your Guide

In the wake of the Barbie movie, feminism and womanness seems to be a cultural discussion all in the service of capitalism and further plastic production to melt the planet. For those who did not feel comforted by the pink and blue binaries laced with consumerism, perhaps 19 MASTERS could bring some affirmation. Saya Gray, a Japanese Canadian musician hailing from Toronto, is crafting genre-bending and cathartic odysseys with each project. Gray brings empowering feminine energy without any rules or regulations. 

The 2022 Album,19 MASTERS, is filled with orchestral stings, unique percussion, gut-wrenching vocals and echoes of heartbreak. Gray’s vocal samples move from haunting to soothing to scorching through the nineteen-song project. Her ability to channel energy is otherworldly. Coming from a fusion of cultures in her own life, Gray seems unafraid to pull different pieces of genres together, creating pure originality. 

“1/19” begins the album gently, in Japanese listeners are welcomed to Gray’s world in a hushed two-second clip. Gray takes control with a firm yet calm one, two, three, four, count cutting the album to English in “I FOUND A FLOORBOARD UNDER THE SOIL!” Experimental yet classical guitar over a bed of strings flows and builds, yearning for lyrical accompaniment. Gray’s voice moves swiftly with direct accusations. Addressing the subject, “No you’re not sorry, so don’t say it.” Alliteration, a lyrical theme throughout the album, begins as Gray sets a lonely tone. “You said you could handle me,” hangs heavy as the song breaks down and fades with ambiance. 

Finally, the ferocity surfaces in the form of harsh guitar marking the beginning of “CERVICAL CEDRIC.” Ethereal voice effects convey the cutting and sole lyric of the song, “You said you could handle my love” with painful gentleness. Each echo seems to deepen the unabashed disappointment. Anxious tapping, reminiscent of the click of a keyboard, pulls forward with persistence. Seagulls whine in the distance and the percussion morphs into “SAVING GRACE” as intensity continues to build. The album seems to be an experiment with transitions, pushing the limits of harsh cuts that hold the attention of listeners without actually breaking apart the soundscapes. Gray lets electronic effects run wild under her tense tiptoeing melody. Before any true climax can occur the record skips, bumping to the next track. Swelling strings fill the soundscape before the vocals cut into a completely different melody and “WISH YOU PICKED ME…” laments someone who deserves better. 

The heavy mix of digital effects underneath the melodic patterns of classical guitar and vocals forms a groundbreaking sound. Gray’s ability to mix patterns of the old with the effects of the new is remarkably fresh and hypnotizing. 

Photo by Jennifer Chang

Switching gears sonically “GREEN APPLE (EVERY NIGHT I RIDE NIGHTMARES)” fills the air with unease and introduces the first use of parentheses in the song titles. These details communicate more to those who do learn the song names and create a sense of intimacy. Each added message is supplemental and seemingly abstract information. The overall effect is much like a photo zoomed in so close that you cannot depict the actual image. Gray’s lyricism generally builds this effect, as the somewhat disorienting lyrics may hold surprising honesty. 

Raw honesty continues, taking a dismal turn over mechanical whirring transitions and the album’s first mention of color: green. Though the song is under two minutes, it crawls with languid vocals seeming to stretch time or pause reality. “I’m depleted” Gray laments through vocal distortion. Breaking from the melody, the stark use of electric guitar crescendos with heat and slowly morphs into the first traditional drum solo. 

In contrast “2019 WAS AN EMPTY CARB” begins with a blip of a more traditional sound, likely Japanese drumming. This also happens to be the first mention of family on the album. Gray describes that she fights for her family rather than herself. This tack also highlights Gray’s brother and father who helped with the album’s instrumentals. Playing into an uneasy nostalgia “9/19” consists of a haunting melody, sounding like something out of a vintage jewelry box moves over distant bells. 

Awakening from the distant dream “TOOO LOUD!” marks the halfway point of the album and takes the listener’s full attention with over seven minutes of playtime. “Too loud,” echoes vocally, almost hiding the words within the overlapping melodies. Though each song is ripe with emotion, this phrase seems to tap into something deep. Whispers of Japanese draw attention to volume even further. Perhaps Gray was told she was too loud by society and this is her rebellion? Alternatively Gray sends a message to those who are culturally dominant, encouraging more equilibrium.  

Vocal distortion breaks down the track and fades to complete and thick silence. Slowly singing bowls, or crystal bowls generally used in Tibetan meditation, rise from the absence of sound. Spoken word nestles into ringing bells, “Saya you don’t need to conform,” assures a female voice. 

Flashing back to reality “11/19” cuts in with a man on the phone who seems to be discussing a deal for Gray while she is in the room. Warm horns are introduced, further expanding the variety of sound across the project, and in spoken word, the parentheses from a previous song title are read aloud. “Every night ride nightmares, bareback, no saddle,” leaving an ominous sense to the strumming guitar. Gray seems to address her daily pains through the guise of abstraction. A voice cackles before shouting “Asian representation!”

Waves of emotion continue, each accompanied by a unique yet smoothly transitioned soundscape. “PAP TEST” resurges the discussion of Gray’s femininity directly mentioning the procedure to check for cervical cancer in women. The discussion broadens in scale, tying in some existential thought. “What we have won’t be here for long, Before we know what we know, will be long gone.” Within this is a fourth wall break describing the pain behind her songs as well as the reality that her pain has brought her success. 

Gray moves from feeling to feeling with speed uncannily. “LITTLE PALM” rises with heat and a Hawaii steel guitar (or at least effects mimicking one) for just a moment before the loneliness creeps back in vocally. “SEEDLESS FRUIT(S OF MY LABOUR)” questions the work we put in, both in life and in love, and what we get back. 

Bringing the emotional roller coaster to a close “IF THERE’S NO SEAT IN THE SKY (WILL YOU FORGIVE ME???)” leaves no stone unturned. The sonic climax, building from simple guitar strumming to an amalgamation of sound, demands that listeners acknowledge reality. A sense of urgency rings deep under Gray’s intense vocals and thunderous percussion. “This is my last life. This is the last chance for you and I,” Gray calls. Birds deepen the soundscape while echoes build confusion and multiplicity. “I’ve never felt so misunderstood,” Gray admits with a moment of calm, the eye of the storm. 

Self-proclaiming as the “image of your enemy” angst surfaces with a wail. 19 MASTERS closes with honesty and begging for forgiveness. As a woman, I hear deep frustration in this project, in the case of Gray, likely a cross-cultural frustration as she exists within a complex cultural space. When the world expects the impossible of you, forgiveness seems like the only moment of respite. This project is insanely brave and empowering as Gray opens herself to the world and demands answers. 

Check out Gray’s newest project QWERTY on Spotify or look for her playing bass with the legendary Daniel Caesar.