Honesty first and last for working songwriter
Two years ago singer-songwriter Shannen Petersen left Manawatu¯ for the big smoke, with a guitar in hand and a dream in mind. Rachel Moore finds her carving out her own definition of success.
Venue fees, ticket sales, rental rates, studio time, streaming stats, the number of people standing in a dimly lit room staring at a stage – there are a lot of figures and sums in themusic business if you go looking for them.
Shannen Petersen doesn’t, or at least she tries not to.
The 21-year-old says there is an allure to the idea of being a commercial artist and being able to make a living from her craft.
But she is wary it can also be a quickway to lose sight of what is really important.
‘‘At some point you must stop making interesting music, because you are focused on making money and selling it.’’
What could be mistaken for shyness is a considered and calm demeanour. Her words come from a thoughtful place, which shines through in her music.
She writes about the trials of life, with slices of regional references and an affinity for bird imagery.
‘‘I am writing for myself at all times. It’s entirely selfish.’’
It’s a labour of love and has been for as long as she can remember. She has been spilling her thoughts into notebooks since she was a child, turning the words into songs.
Taylor Swift’s Fearless album, released in 2008, was a key discovery, fuelling the songwriter within Petersen.
The pop princess was her idol, but Petersen has since grown into her own style. Nowadays, her sound oozes indie folk and rock influences.
Inspiration comes from Los Angeles’ wu nd er kind Phoebe Bridges and her supergroup side project Boy genius, though Swift still garners the odd listen.
Writing is Petersen’s creative outlet, but it wouldn’t be as satisfying if she couldn’t share the songs.
The validation of positive feedback is fulfilling and evidence she is connecting with people. That’s what makes it worth it.
Her introduction to music was through classical piano, which she learned from her grandmother.
Petersen was in her school choir and took a few guitar lessons before deciding it was the instrument for her. ‘‘Piano was a lot of discipline for a 7-year-old who didn’t want to practise.’’
Petersen’s first band was called Pixie Dust. She played acoustic guitar and it was how she learned to work with other people.
‘‘It served its purpose and then I moved on to other things,’’ she says, laughing.
Like many childhood projects, it has been blocked from her memory.
Fruit Juice Parade would be her first ‘‘real band’’, an indie-emo duo forged at Palmerston North Girls’ High School in 2015 with Tharushi Bowatte. The pair bonded over an urge to play loud music.
Petersen now has seven music projects on the go. Three are solo ventures, where she sings alone, with a band, and with a Deluge portable synthesiser.
She also features in Sports Dreams, a dream pop duo, surf rock band Baby Bell and midwest emo act Welcomer.
Her music is available to stream on Spotify and Band Camp, but the income generated is in cents rather than dollars.
‘‘There is no money in it. What you do earn goes back into paying for travel because you drove somewhere or on your recording fund, or for beers afterwards.’’
Petersen moved to Wellington in 2019 to pursue a career in music, enrolling in Massey University’s music programme.
After a few months she decided she wasn’t getting out of it what she thought she would. Shewas already capable of chasing a music career on her own terms.
She is completing a bachelor of arts in sociology and working parttime at a music store to pay the rent. ‘‘Uni is the side thing. There is not a lot of priority for uni at the moment.’’
Petersen says music is harder to chase in Wellington, compared with her old stomping ground.
You need your own gear, it’s expensive to record and practise, and there is more competition for a slot at a gig.
The scene is saturated, with bands booked to play gigs at myriad venues every Thursday, Friday and Saturday.
She owes a lot to the five years of experience gained at The Stomach, a one-of-a-kind music venue and recording studio in Palmerston North, and her old high school. They gave her a head start on running the music industry gauntlet.
Before each show at The Stomach, the lineup of musicians will stand in a circle and introduce themselves.
What did you eat for breakfast? Who is your band? Why you are here?
She has a lot of connections in Manawatu¯ and has learnt a lot from a range of musicians.
The Stomach manager Harry Lilley has watched Petersen go from a high school girl who wanted to start a band to a seasoned performer. He mentored her through the high school’s music programme.
‘‘I remember when she started she had already been writing songs before she got to high school.’’
Petersen and Bowatte had an undeniable drive. All he had to do was guide them as they did their thing.
Lilley is always blown away by the courage and unbridled energy of high school students willing to give everything a go.
They paste together the influence of their parents, family and friends, and take the risk of making a statement that’s creative and personal.
‘‘Howmany adults would put themselves out there like that and continuously work at it no matter how successful it appears to be?’’
He says what makes Petersen special is her relaxed manner. She is not worried aboutwhat other people are doing, or trying to fit into a commercial mould.
She just wants tomake music for the love of it. ‘‘It’s so much more interesting to listen to, and go to the shows.
‘‘The next piece of work is always a step forward.’’
He says Petersen’s level of maturity at a young age is rare.
She could fashion amusical career tomake money or get played on the radio if she wanted to, but she doesn’t. She would rather be true to her self and her music.
Authenticity is its own success for a musician.
‘‘They can do music because it’s the thing that they do, and have to because it’s an integral part of them as a person,’’ says Lilley.
The artists we remember most, he argues, are not necessarily the ones who make the most money or have themost No 1 singles, but the ones who establish long, creative careers, a daring body of work and strong fan bases.
It’s not necessarily viewed as success by a lot of people, but it is interesting, and it is real.
‘‘It’s just Shannen playing music as Shannen, rather than putting on an act.’’