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It’s extremely rare for an artist to accomplish t
heir dreams, even over a career spanning several decades. There are certain milestones that, when starting out, can feel as far away as the stars that illuminate the velvet night-sky above. A place where our hopes for the future reside until it’s time to make them a reality. It’s remarkable, then, to consider the tremendous accolades and once-in-a-lifetime opportunities that Zambian-born, Limerickbased artist Denise Chaila has achieved this year, long before releasing her outstanding debut body of work, the aptly titled mixtape, Go Bravely. We first heard from Denise Chaila in 2016 on the compelling song, Isn’t Dinner Nice from Rusangano Family’s debut LP, Let The Dead Bury The Dead, the first (and only) hiphop Irish album to claim the coveted Choice Music Prize award. On it, Chaila delivers a deeply emotive spoken-word poem centred on the continued cycle of injustice and abuse women face around the world. She commenced with the line, “I have promised myself that the only time I will ever allow myself to be seen and not heard is when I am leading by example,” a pertinent address that would set the tone for her career as a songwriter. From there, in the midst of studying English Literature and Sociology, Chaila released her critically acclaimed debut EP, Duel Citizenship in 2019. In the space of ten minutes, she challenged preconceptions of gender and race before further stating, “What’s Irish rap? It’s a sound you can’t predict.” Throughout the early days of establishing her style as a solo artist, rapper and poet, Chaila worked closely with the people with whom she first discovered the thrill of making music with; God Knows and MuRli. The latter has been instrumental in producing her material, finding just the right beat for her words to bounce off. She continued to deliver sublime lyricism, driven by her nuance and conviction with the infectious Chaila, which arrived in May of this year. The song features on her mixtape, released earlier this month, and is just one prime example of Chaila’s ability to completely captivate her listener. When she speaks it is as though everything else stands still. Her ascent marks a turning point in our cultural landscape, melding formative experiences from her upbringing in both Zambia and Ireland, where she relocated with her family as a child. In this regard, Chaila’s music proffers reevaluations of identity and home (“Home is where my art is. Home is where my dreams are never going to be at risk”). Furthermore, the cornerstone of Go Bravely, which seamlessly marries her past and present, also provides an overarching definition of Denise Chaila’s artistry as asserted on Down, where she declares, “I dance on the grave of dead traditions.” From the moment you press play, it’s apparent that this is an introduction to a deep thinker and visionary. Someone who, having found her voice, is giving strength to those searching for their own. “This is the music I was looking for when I was growing up,” she says when asked about her approach to writing, especially now, as someone with the potential to instill confidence in her audience. “I put myself in a position where I want to hear the music I didn’t have. I see gaps in the market; things I wish were said but aren’t or versions of the same story that haven’t been told. I want to say them. If I represent something or someone through my music, it’s by accident. Right now, I want to represent myself properly. The older I get, the more I realise the intense variation in people. With that in mind, I’m trying to make enough space for my difference so that someone else’s difference can come along with me. I’m not trying to represent anything other than the right to not feel ashamed of yourself or your story because it’s very particular and no one else can tell it. Just because you haven’t heard someone else say it doesn’t mean it’s not the same.” In 2020 alone, Denise Chaila’s story is an I’m trying to make enough space for my difference so that someone else’s difference can come along with me. impressive one. Throughout the year, she has been omnipresent, her presence bringing boundless joy during a universally difficult year. When we meet on the first autumnal evening of September, our conversation takes place on the eve of her Late Late Show appearance – of which snippets of her speaking eloquently on the show dominated social media the following day – and a few weeks before she took to the stage of Dublin’s National Concert Hall for a live-streamed ‘Imagining Ireland’ concert. Leading up to those events was a succession of career highlights. She entered our homes via the National Gallery of Ireland with an outstanding performance for the Other Voices #Courage series, an initiative from the organisation to fill historical and cultural landmarks with the music of Ireland’s most exciting acts while their doors remained closed during the pandemic. This was followed by Chaila being named Limerick Person of the Month in August, becoming the highest-charting female artist in Ireland and ranking #1 in the Irish Times’ ‘Best 50 Irish Music Acts Right Now’ list, beating stalwarts of the scene, U2 and Van Morrison. “I was dumbstruck,” she says, an inflection of surprise remains intact in her voice of the latter achievement, “because I’m in such awe and gratitude that this industry I’m in has an awareness of me that goes beyond simply knowing what I’m doing but actually regards my music as something to be appreciated to that extent.” She continues, “After years of battling with that voice in your head which appears to doubt yourself with questions like, ‘Am I living up to my own expectations? Are my parents proud of me? Am I proud of myself? Am I doing things cleverly? Do I have enough money saved?’ All these questions build up inside and you become a different kind of person through that entire process. So, if you reach a point where you’re acknowledged for the work you’ve been doing, it’s really rewarding to feel as though the stars are aligning and you’re where you’re meant to be and you weren’t silly taking a risk on yourself. That’s where I find myself; I’m processing all of these big moments, in real-time. Simultaneously, I’m also processing how, at a time, I didn’t believe that any of this was possible for me. But I’m here.” 18