Shawnee Dez is a caring soul who values connection above all else. Their music reaches back to pay tribute to their ancestors while fusing new sounds to blaze brand new sonic landscapes. Their soulful voice combined with cinematic, forward-looking production paves a rich tapestry that could be backdrop for any award-winning film. If you see a movie scored by them at the Cannes Film Festival one day, just know you heard it here first. So much of Shawnee’s music feels like reclamation. She sings effortlessly about standing in your truth. It was a real treat connecting with them about their journey, their music, their work founding Black JoyRide and the upcoming Juneteenth ride.
Sofar: Who is Shawnee Dez?
Shawnee: I know that I was born to connect with people. I don’t think the people I encounter are strangers. I think they’re mirrors, teachers. We are literally born to be linked up in some way.
How do you describe your music?
It’s so weird. When I go back and listen to something I’m just like, where did this come from? This is something that I’m working on but I don’t have a deep sense of ownership of my work. In a spiritual sense, it doesn’t feel like it’s mine. When I was starting out my direction was more soulful, very vocal forward, I wasn’t super concerned with the sounds of the music I was choosing to engage with. It’s still in the process of maturing, finding, and growing but I’ve become a lot more concerned with the musical production of the piece itself. The newer things I’ve been working on have a lot of my production direction.
What’s a quintessential Shawnee Dez song you feel most captures who you are?
I haven’t even made the thing that is me yet. I’m still trying to find what represents who I am, all that I am, all that I feel, and everybody that I’m trying to talk to. “FreebodyFreestyle” feels like the closest thing to that. Aside from the hooks, I feel that was the most honest thing I’ve made. It’s so raw and untouched. Shout out to Eddie Burns who is my partner and producer. Shout out to Kenneth Leftridge who plays woodwinds on most of my songs.
Shawnee Dez, Sofar artist and organizer of Black JoyRide. Photo by Adam Jason CohenAs a Black femme-presenting artist, what do you need in order to be successful in the music business?
My journey as a dark-skinned Black, femme-presenting artist has been humbling and a lot slower. Four or five years ago I can remember saying the same prayer: I asked God not to make my path an easy one but to make it one full of lessons that I don’t have to learn when I do have the things I want. I want to take each step intentionally over the time it takes to get to where I’m going. On a systemic level, I’d say just being able to be heard. It’s such a risky business and you really don’t know if you’re going to yield everything you want out of everything you pour in. Really what I want is the resources to make honest music. Music that is not about me objectifying my body or having to show a little more skin in order to get a record deal or to have labels paying attention or getting playlisted because I’m talking about something specific.
What has your Sofar experience been like?
My experience has been very dynamic. From the first entry point and being connected to Sofar it was very easy. I felt like I was received and welcomed. The ability to have conversations with a future audience is really important. Also the sacredness of performing in someone’s home is really amazing.
What is Black JoyRide?
Black JoyRide is a community biking event going into its third year. It really spanned out of the double pandemic. As a Black person from Chicago, you experience this juxtaposed reality of living in two different cities. You typically have to go outside of your community for resources and the idea of this racial pandemic has always been very present. The separation from my community during the Covid pandemic really blew up all the racial things we’ve been subjected to our entire lives. We didn’t have community to call on. I really needed community. I needed people I could cry on and talk to and ride with. That’s what Black JoyRide is for me. It was originally just a way to get people outside safely. It’s a moment for everybody, Black or not, to join a celebration of Black joy. We have to intentionally make space because we are always so flooded with trauma porn of Black death, Black struggle, all these negative experiences of being Black. I’d say being Black is rich, deep, spiritual, connected. I really wanted to make space for everybody to see our joy. You’re going to see us happy, smiling, taking up space in the street.
How would you describe Black Joy?
I can describe it in a day. It’s waking up with a little peek of sun on my face. Praying and thanking God for the day. Not worrying about doing my hair. I can just go outside how I wake up. Walking down the street seeing people who look like me greeting each other. Not feeling a sense of loneliness. Not feeling like I’m at war with my own country. Not feeling afraid of police driving by. I will have achieved premium, top-tier Black Joy when I don’t have to worry about those things. When I’m with another large group of Black people I don’t worry about those things. I don’t worry about being the only Black person in a restaurant or store. I experience that a lot living downtown. Ultimate freedom of waking up and being exactly who I am when I wake up outside of my door. When I can connect with nature without any limitations or barriers.
What do you have coming up?
I have an upcoming show on July 22nd at the Garfield Park Observatory. In August I’ll be releasing my first album called Moody Umbra which I’m really excited about! We started in February 2020 just as the pandemic hit. My ultimate goal is to score a film and one day become a music supervisor. That’s what this project is inspired by. It’s visual, metallic and dark with the intent of showing the listener something.
You can listen to Shawnee Dez on all your streaming services. Learn more at Black JoyRide. Looking for Juneteenth plans in and outside of Chicago? Check our Sofar celebratory shows here.
Words by Steven Rutherford
Photo credit: Shawnee Dez, photo by Jacob King
