HURRAY FOR THE RIFF RAFF
Alynda Segarra gets out of New York to prepare a new LP for an America in flux, with reggaeton, astrology and Lou Reed on her mind.
“What is my vision… let’s make that fucking happen!” ALYNDA SEGARRA
ALYNDA SEGARRA was not alone in taking up running during the pandemic; field-recording crows while exercising, however, makes her more of an outlier. One bird collected from her New Orleans neighbourhood is looped on a track intended for Hurray For The Riff Raff’s seventh album, its caw emphasising a political point. “Louisiana is becoming a place where a lot of undocumented people are being jailed,” explains Segarra, “and you combine lyricism about something like that with this crow, and the crow becomes a character. It’s really cool
to watch that come to life – like, collaging my life and experience.”
Ornithomancy is just a fraction of
Segarra’s follow-up to 2017’s The Navigator,a concept album that used the story of future street-kid Navita to explore Puerto Rican history and urban gentrification. “Now this is me saying, ‘It’s OK to be a bit more vulnerable, a bit more exposed,’” she says.
Trauma and healing are key themes. “Growing up a New Yorker definitely raised me to keep hustling, keep moving, don’t think about it, just fucking keep doing the thing – and this has all forced me just to be quiet and to be still.” Voluntary work visiting detention centres also deeply influenced her writing, while a song called Jupiter’s Dance is named after Congolese musician Jupiter Bokondji of Okwess International. “It was making me think so much about how, in astrology, Jupiter brings blessings. How could I write a song that’s giving people hope?”
Segarra partly credits this openness to connecting with Bon Iver/Waxahatchee producer Brad Cook. Working with him was, she says, a “safe space” – at least once she reached his base in Durham, North Carolina. Unwilling to fly and a nervous driver (a trait she ascribes to a New York upbringing), the singer relied on friends prepared to take both a Covid test and a road trip. Once in Durham, though, Cook and Segarra’s Covid-secure studio bubble had unexpected advantages, not least removing a band’s need for creative diplomacy: “It was more about, ‘What is my vision and let’s make that fucking happen!’”
There was also freedom to experiment: “I’ve always been really intimidated by gear and electronic music and making beats. With Brad, it was such a great environment to play and fuck around with his gear and just make sounds.” Segarra’s recent listening has included Beverly Glenn-Copeland (“like this fantasy forest”), the “joy” of Bad Bunny, Colombian-Canadian singer Lido Pimienta and reggaeton.
Yet she soon laughs. “No matter what, I’m still coming from where I come from musically, and there’s going to be Lou Reed rip-offs,” she says. “Throw all that together – and then
remember I grew up in New York City being obsessed with The Velvet Underground.”