Faye Webster, Interracial Relationships, and the Struggle of Being Loved as an Artist
she's more than a dread loving white woman, she gets me. she just gets me.
.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・・゜゜・
November 10th, 2023. From any bystander it would appear to them that we were at a concert downtown Phoenix with exposed ceilings and black and white tiled floors. But as far as I know, I was in that venue by myself with the artist on stage only thirty feet away from me. As she sang her melancholic lyrics and looked directly at me, I could’ve sworn we were alone. That’s why I let my tears stream down my face naturally. I didn’t care who saw. Me and Faye Webster were having a moment– a parasocial moment if I dare call it so. This connection could have been real or all in my head, but it didn’t matter to me. What was important to me was the fact that I had this deep and profound relationship with this musician and the music she made and to see her live in front of me, she confirmed that all of these complex feelings and emotions I had as a highly sensitive person, and someone who falls in love often and easily, and someone with a yearning to escape the dark depths of modern dating and somehow magically find ‘the one’— someone who seems to be much different from me on the outside, but with a soul only mine matches well with, and possibly distinct differences in their personality and the way they were raised only so we can learn from one another and grow towards something beautiful together, someone to grow old with and be able to be seen and respected as a creative individual by them— that all these feelings are real and valid, and that this type of love is attainable but there will be so much pain and in the end, so much growth for everyone. When I listen to Faye’s music it’s like closing my eyes and reaching deep inside myself and everything I touch is exactly what I’m looking for.
Faye Webster, the 26 year old Atlanta native, surfaced in the Indie/Alt music scene like a bright, curious crab in search for a bridge that connects the emotional and material realms. Her sometimes country twang and hauntingly beautiful lyrics have attracted fans from their dusty, maximalist bedrooms— because something about her music enchants those who like to collect things and have a hard time letting things go. She truly is nothing like no other and that’s another reason why she’s loved so dearly.
Faye’s songs aren’t so much like love songs, as she clearly states in one of my favorites by her – '“Jonny”
“This wasn't 'posed to be a love song
But I guess it is now, isn't it?”
– but even then, they still do hold a decent amount of romanticism, yearning, and a hint of limerence even when she’s talking about the mundane aspects of life or herself. One of the many reasons I find myself attracted to Miss Faye’s music is how most of her songs seem like the overall vibe and message are formed accidentally. Like she isn’t out here making music thinking, ‘oh I want it to sound like this,’ or ‘I want listeners to think or feel this way when listening to my music.’ Her music sounds genuine and intimate— something many new artists seem to lack. Faye clearly makes music to make music and to say how she feels no matter who is listening. It’s just by chance that people like me share similar feelings to her that maybe to her, she once felt were so unique.
When women make songs that get categorized as “love songs” it doesn’t take long before the internet resurfaces who these songs are supposedly about. I knew that Faye was in a previous relationship with a black guy that also helped produce some of her music ever since I first encountered her. And to be honest, I do think this added some type of appeal to her because we rarely ever see black people seen through a romantic lens in modern music, film, or any type of medium without them being over sexualized or stereotyped, especially when the perspective is coming from a white person. So when I found this out, her music started to sound different to me– not because I suddenly saw her differently, but because I began to wonder what it might be like to be the muse as a person of color.
Faye’s previous dating history and the man she wrote “A Dream With A Baseball Player” about has been circling around on Tiktok and has become “big news” that cannot be detached from her name. The type of person someone dates should not become a part of their identity and I do not agree with the people online who have been jumping to the assumption that Faye only dates black guys— specifically “dread heads” especially since we will never know every single person a celebrity has dated and who they are attracted to. So I think it’s kinda crazy that she’s associated with two black guys and suddenly her music and talent gets blurred into a nonsense debate of the type of person she “really is.”
Also! Jesus fucking Christ, like listen to her music. Really listen to her music. Because not every song is a long song. Her songs are barely love songs in the first place. Most of her music is about how she isolates herself and finds herself rather lonely and unlovable because she has all these feelings and nowhere to put them, and struggles with being loved and seen as an artist not only by others but by herself too. She sings of time being ungraspable, how everything hurts and feels unbearable at times, how she feels like she stays stagnant while everyone grows and moves on without her, and how home for her quite literally does not exist. I find it extremely disrespectful that one can listen to these songs and boil down her intuitiveness and creative vulnerability into some idea that she’s just some white girl hung up over a hot artsy black guy with dreads.
The whole interracial conversation is so daunting and forever in the wrong. I’ve definitely made my wrong judgments in the past and might feel indifferent about certain stereotypes (Black women dating white men for love and black men dating white women to find comfort in their identity [???] etc.). But I just don’t know how necessary this conversation is anymore. I think we should all just accept that people are going to date who they want to date, and if it’s because they’re looking for love or searching for security in their identity, it’s really no one's business. And most importantly, everyone is searching for something and running away from another in any type of relationship and the race or ethnicity of the person they are pining after ultimately becomes insignificant in the end. Insignificant, not meaningless. Because while dating someone who belongs to a cultured group of people, to become blind to this part of their identity does not allow you to love them fully for who they are. But obviously it’s way different if your love for them is centered on this part of their identity. That’s so fucking weird and I feel so silly for even having to say that.
I struggle with my identity as a biracial person and as an artist, and I find myself relating to Faye when she claims it’s just easier to be alone with yourself instead of trying to convince someone to see yourself as this idea of a person you’re not even that familiar with. I dream of moving out of Phoenix and settling somewhere strange and lonesome just so I can figure myself out. But I’m not entirely convinced that would help me in the ways I wish it would. I want to be proud of myself as an artist but don’t I have to create in order to even be considered an artist in the first place (LOL)? And in order to create art don’t you have to live life, be involved in your community, hang out with friends, try new things, visit childhood places, and put yourself in difficult situations in order to feel inspired and fuel a hunger for your hands to create things?
And then it’s like, maybe one day I feel confident in myself as an artist— then when it comes to the time where someone is ready to love me for who I am, how am I gonna convince them that this ever changing, fluid person is worth their time investing in? How do I expect them to be OK with waking up to a new person every day and to show up for me through my creative endeavors? And why is it so hard for someone to ask me what I do? Who is gonna ask me what I do when I haven’t been asked a question in the last 45 minutes? Don’t you wanna know about my favorite art medium and why it best represents who I am as a person? How it feels to mold the earth between my palms and create something from nothing? Are you not dying to know my thoughts on the Caryatid porch of the Erechtheion and the things I would do to reunite these sisters and return them to their homeland? Wait… so you’re telling me you don’t want to know the last movie I watched that reinstated my momentarily lost inspiration? Interesting….
But then I catch myself in these thoughts and think about this one song by Faye where she’s talking about this girl that won’t leave her and her man alone and the whole time you’re trying to figure out if this girl is real or if she’s just Faye’s inner voice doubting herself. I’m tired of doubting myself and more importantly I’m tired of people who also feel limited in their own ways doubting me too. Life lately has felt a lot like trying to shoot a target of what you want with your last arrow only for it to ricochet off the target and all you can do is stand there and watch it fling backwards at you hitting you right in your heartspace. The thing is, the arrow comes back for a reason. Maybe we’re supposed to try again, shoot at a different target, or try a different method.
It doesn’t seem likely that I will ever be seen or respected as an artist if I can’t even get myself to value myself, and maybe instead of worrying about if someone can love me as an artist, I should try to figure out how to love myself and my creations. Listening to Faye’s music has been some type of way to see myself and my feelings in a spiritual, immersive audio experience. When she was on stage in front of me last November, everything just felt so surreal and in that moment for a second I truly believed that this work I’m dedicating all my time and energy to will someday make me proud of who I am, what I do, who I do it for, and why. So now I continue to pull back my arrow and shoot until it sticks and while I do that I’m listening to Faye Webster.
☆ j from north of space
