Photo credit: David Terranova
After releasing her breathtaking homage to oppression, “Marionette,”and the waltz-inspired “Wheels Within Wheels,” Selett eagerly drops her full EP today.
“SELETT has no real rhyme or reason to it, funny enough, she explains. “That isn’t because it doesn’t hold meaning or that I don’t have anything to impart about it. The thing is that I wanted to put out a full length because I have all these songs, but sometimes you just have to start somewhere.
This EP is a testament to the power of vulnerability and self-discovery. Thematically this EP is just a taste of what my creative being is about. I’ve been blessed in being able to work with David Terranova, Charley Drayton, Parker Kindred and others whose artistry has enriched the layers of sound and meaning within each track.”
In celebration of her self-titled release, Selett’s also reveals the visualizer to the subtly magnificent, “Hey Hey.” Selett further notes, “In ‘Hey Hey’ I’m delving deep into the human quest for dignity and meaning. It’s like a dance, intimate moments unfolding, kissing away fog, and passion expanding into the cosmos. There’s a lot of metaphorical guidance and searching. It’s a poetic journey, inviting you into this shared mystery, where each heart finds echoes of its own history. It’s emotional, it’s transformative, and it’s all about resonating with the messy, beautiful human experience.”
In the depths of a basement apartment nestled within New York City’s East Village, Selett diligently scrawls her thoughts upon a crowded canvas of paper. Amidst a landscape littered with cigarette remnants, a scattered ensemble of musical instruments, and an assortment of pens and journals, she gently sweeps a stray, golden curl from her eyes, pausing in contemplation before weaving another verse. In this moment, one would scarcely divine her extraordinary gift.
Yet, as Selett carves out a niche amidst her couch, cocooned in a labyrinth of books and fragments of paper, she reaches for a six-stringed oracle and undergoes a transformation. In just a few eloquent notes, Selett becomes transcendent, and the transformation is astonishing and entire. The thoughts she had laboriously penned mere moments ago—scribblings on thwarted romance, feelings of alienation, and the discordant, misfiring desires of love—morph from the common anguish of a twenty-something into Selett’s archetypal masterpiece; ancient pain reconfigured into seductively fresh music. A soul-stirring, melancholic ballad emerges, delivering the sensation of a first kiss, both surprisingly new and hauntingly familiar.
As Selett continues to play, she transports us to a realm beneath the smoky spell of her voice. All the while, she effortlessly accomplishes the miraculous feat of making her story our own; each plucked string becoming a resonant chord within our hearts.
Finally, Selett completes her composition, gently places the guitar aside, and a girl named Ashley inquires, “So, did it suck?”
