Written by Dylan James, Photos courtesy of Sawyer Harris, Hayley Hollis and Moe Kite
Blossoming talent is abundant in the age of streaming, with young artists creating pieces and expressing their worldviews daily. We students take in what we discover and share it, benefitting the artists and ourselves through absorbing multitudes of work. In this era, it doesn’t take status nor age to inspire.
Take, for instance, nineteen-year-old singer and songwriter Sawyer Harris from Birmingham, Ala. Harris releases songs under the name “Grimace,” emotional indie tunes one might play on a late-night car ride or maybe as a good old-fashioned post-breakup serenade. At first glance, Grimace appears as some sort of reincarnation of Bowie, minus the English accent. An androgynous, non-binary, indie singer-songwriter from suburban Ala., Harris’ perspective and emotional intelligence can give insight and resonance to students’ own creative processes.
Still off the high of the release of their latest single, “Moschino,” last week, Harris speaks enthusiastically about their music, gender and place in this world. The grandchild of a dedicated high school band teacher, their first record was mixed on GarageBand when they were fourteen years old. The genesis of where they are now, however, came later, with the release of their single “Please Don’t Call,” preceding their first EP, “Holding Hands with Wicked People,” a concept album of disenchanted youth.
“I realized all the songs were a catalogue of where I was in my life,” Harris said. “And they all flowed together. This was the first experience where I realized I made something that I considered art. I felt so connected to it. It was very empowering.”
Harris makes music as therapy. Like autopilot, as they put it; they turn it on, and it must start and stop on its own time. They create for themself, and at the point at which other people are receiving it, Harris feels like it “belongs to them.”
They will embarrassingly admit that often their top song on Spotify is their own. “Once you have finalized something and released it to the world, it’s best to embrace it as opposed to cower.” Harris said.
Harris used the COVID-19 quarantine to tap into more personal elements of their life and work. They identify as non-binary trans-feminine and speak openly about maintaining their presentation. So why the name Grimace? Harris explains it is a juxtaposition. With long, black hair, floral dress and a contagious smile topped with a shimmering silver tooth, empathy is apparent in this young, vibrant person. Their songs speak to the deepest emotional desires of young people.
The choice of stage name could be because of humbling atmosphere. Harris acknowledges that suburban Birmingham is a testy setting for queer people, especially youth. They keep a close-knit group of loving LGBTQ+ friends, some of whom are fellow musicians, to stay afloat.
When asked about what they would share with queer artists at SCAD, Harris had some personal advice. “Over time it has gotten better, and it will continue to get better, so long as trans people are here and we are supportive, and we build a community. Everyone is worthy of love, friendship, and compassion towards one another. Everyone will find a home.”
A walking, talking, singing juxtaposition. For many who feel like outsiders or just plain different, the music of Grimace is notes of validation. For those who feel afraid to explore and express our truest selves, the words of Sawyer Harris can be fuel for acceleration.
Grimace’s music can be found on Apple Music, Spotify, and SoundCloud.
