“Pour me over, show me how to begin,” intones Maia Friedman on her lush, immaculate new single “Where The Rocks Are.” Following a breadth of experience as a collaborator and multi-instrumentalist, Friedman’s densely-textured pop is wise and evokes what she wants it to: the sensuality of touch, feeling and image, a sonic form of empathy. The track is accompanied by a gorgeously atmospheric and intimate video, directed by V Haddad (Slopehouse Productions).
‘Where The Rocks Are’ was written in the weeks after watching “Close Encounters of the Third Kind” for the first time. The imagery of the characters climbing the rock formation toward a great, unknown force really resonated with me. It felt symbolic of the search for peace, comfort, love and contentment, and of the obstacles one encounters along the way. The lines “Where the rocks are / going to it // Pour me over / show me how to begin” speak of surrender, of giving oneself over to the invisible forces at work around us. A voice says, “let this flow through me in the way that best benefits myself and the people around me, who I love,” and I do my best to listen. – Maia Friedman
Maia Friedman is confirmed to support The Staves across 25+ North American dates in Feb/March 2022; details can be found here. Her debut album is due in 2022 on Last Gang Records.
Friedman is a current member of Dirty Projectors, having notably co-written the first of their 5 EPs released last year, featuring the soothing earworm “Overlord.” She is also a founding member of Coco, alongside Oliver Hill (Dustrider, Pavo Pavo) and Dan Molad (Lucius, Chimney); the band released their self-titled debut last month.
Friedman’s voice lends a unique quality of comfort that permeates all her collaborations, but on an upcoming solo debut, she presents her full intention. Her role is that of the wounded healer, one who has gained wisdom through darkness and grief. In her empathetic role, rather than share the details of any struggling, Friedman instead sought to build a cloud of safety for those who might have pain of their own. Rather than a depiction of suffering, Friedman’s songs are its antidote.