"I had no money, no car, and no plan," she says, "but it ended up blooming into one of the most beautiful times of my life."
Through a gradual evolution—a shedding of scar tissue and skin amongst the sandscapes and snakes lurking outside LA, in isolation and freedom—Sela wrote these songs of self-reconciliation.
The four avant-pop songs on Snake Mother tell this autobiographical tale against a restless backdrop of rusty beats, lean piano lines, and melancholic melodies. From the stutter-step samples of "Nothing But Dreams" to the come-hither keys of "Ready For Love," it's as if we've been drawn into a radio dial that exists outside of time and space.
"Jazz standards, folk, and soul are at the center of my songwriting," explains Sela. "I am interested in raw, vulnerable expressions of emotion because I feel like I don't see them enough."
Sela's brash storytelling digs in deep and doesn't let go, channeling lucid memories—both good and bad—of long, neon-streaked nights spent in Las Vegas, New York, and Hollywood. She draws on bold and iconic expressions of femininity, like Cindy Sherman, and paradigms of servitude and romance like Cinderella.
"Snake Mother," explains Sela, "is about the road between the world of vanity and materialism and the deep inward world of the spirit. The deals we make with ourselves to thrive in both worlds simultaneously."