AYSHA BANOS OF DEAR, SOUTHERN BELLE
The rustic southern roots of Aysha Banos run deep as her connection to Texas and South Carolina will forever remain an unshakable part of her life. Stemming from those foundations and branching out into the wilds of Los Angeles Banos and partner Kyle Sarvas have come to produce their unique blend of honest indie folk. Detailing her origins, inspirations, and creative processes, Banos shares with us some insights to the music she makes and demonstrates the sheer power of musicality and its affirming abilities.
Hi Aysha and thank you for taking the time out to speak with us at Musicology. Can you elaborate on your musical journey and how your stray individual paths converged to bring Dear, Southern Belle to life?
I had been writing songs for years, as a way of processing emotions and staying grounded. For our wedding, we decided to co-write and perform a song together. That collaboration sparked something, and that’s when things started to unfold. My husband, Kyle Sarvas, who was just beginning to explore composing and production, offered to help record and arrange some of my demos. What started as a way to preserve the songs organically evolved into a creative partnership. Dear, Southern Belle was born out of that, a blend of my songwriting roots and his emerging passion for sonic storytelling.
As a creative duo there is always a tight knit approach when creating but as a married couple, in what ways does that partnership aid the developmental process and where does its limitations in producing music lie?
Being married adds a layer of emotional depth within the collaboration which helps when we’re sharing vulnerable ideas or pushing creative boundaries. There’s a deep seeded layer of knowing, which helps us to recognize each other’s strengths, triggers and blind spots. We’re both perfectionists, which really pushes the work to a deeper level, we’re constantly refining things and trying to make sure every song feels whole. There’s so much heart and tender care in what we create, and I hope listeners can feel that in the final result.
Producing your own signature blend of folk and indie pop, where have you drawn influence from and is there a style you wish to emulate in so much as to join the illustrious company you admire?
We’ve always drawn inspiration from artists like The Ballroom Thieves, Noah Kahan, and Billie Eilish, musicians who blend emotion with atmosphere in such unique ways. But interestingly, even when we set out with a clear reference in mind, the song often takes on a life of its own. It morphs into something a little different than what we expected, like it’s guiding us instead of the other way around. We try to stay open to that process and let the song become what it needs to be, rather than forcing it into a specific mold. So while we definitely have artists we admire and sounds we gravitate toward, we’re not necessarily trying to emulate anyone, we’re more trying to follow the thread of what feels honest in the moment. As for artists we’d love to work with someday, there are so many incredible songwriters who inspire me, Ben Gibbard, Patrick Watson, Finneas, Shakey Graves, Colter Wall, each bringing something unique and authentic to their music.
There is always a special element of folk music that holds storytelling in high esteem and for very good reason but for your own particular stories that are woven into the fabric of your debut record, can you share with us the specifics which shaped the lyrical course of the album and how you chose to distill those particular tales out of a lifetime's worth of events and experiences?
My songs have always been a form of a diary, an extension of my truth pulled from behind the curtains of myself. The most heartfelt songs I write usually come when I’m feeling something very deeply, and the words just spill out of me before I can even process them. I’ve always loved literature and writing, and songwriting feels like a natural extension of that, it allows for my experiences to have meaning. I aim for that balance of being vague enough for people to project their own perception, but specific enough that it feels real, raw and relatable. Writing allows me to let people in, to see parts of myself that no one would know otherwise but to also free myself from the words that live silently inside of me.
Fusing sentiment with sound, what is your process in selecting the right sound, style and application to adequately accompany and portray the emotive state you are attempting to canvas?
We always start with the intention behind the song. What are we trying to portray emotionally? What was I feeling when I wrote it? From there, we form an idea of how it should be sung, listening back to our ghost tracks and finetuning both the vocal performance to feel raw and captivating, and the instrumental arrangement to support the overall mood. Once we move into production, after the recording stage, we dive into the details, the small elements that help evoke the overall feeling we’re aiming for. Usually, the song ends up telling us what it needs. I tend to lead with emotion, focusing on how the sound makes me feel, while Kyle brings in a more technical perspective, applying his deep understanding of music theory to support and structure that feeling. It’s a balance between heart and mind, instinct and intention.
It what ways has your native Los Angeles shaped your style, albeit subtly and in a passive manner?
Ironically, while I’m a native to Los Angeles and have enjoyed growing up here, my musical style has been more deeply influenced by the South. Growing up, I spent a lot of time in Texas, as I have some family there, and my grandmother, with her thick southern accent, used to tell me stories about her life on a farm in South Carolina riding horses, living close to the land, and embracing a simpler way of life. These stories imprinted on me in a way that truly shaped my being. They gave me a vision of what felt like heaven on earth, and I slowly began to gravitate towards that lifestyle. In many ways, that rustic, southern world shaped who I am and how I express myself musically. So while L.A. is home and has given me so much, it’s that southern spirit that’s really shaped the heart of my music.
When it came to recording, were there any unique challenges you encountered and conversely were there any nice surprises that arose when laying down your tracks?
In recording, setting a good and healthy foundation for my voice is something I focus on quite a bit. I dive deep into vocal health and work with vocal coaches to understand how to use my body to work with me, and not against me. We’ve been discovering how to get people to hear the emotion in the track, not only vocally but also through the instrumental performance. We know how important it is to show the heart in everything, rather than just trying to be perfect every time. Nowadays, I’ve found, that people are craving something real and relatable, and that’s exactly what we’re trying to create.
On a technical level, what instruments are in your kit bag and are there particular reasons why you gravitate toward them?
I’ve always gravitated towards guitar, it’s been my main instrument from the beginning and still is. I added the suitcase kick drum to our kit just to spice up our performances and add a little grit. I like when there’s a darker, rawer edge to the sound, it helps strip away some of the polish and make things feel more textured. Kyle spends a lot of time on bass and piano, but we’re both always looking to expand our range. Lately, we’ve been interested in incorporating more instruments like banjo and pedal steel to deepen and diversify our sound.
When it comes to your live performances, do you tend to be more guided by what you are feeling from the room, or do you try take a bit more of a commanding role and bring the crowd into your world?
I think I try to do a little bit of both. But especially when I can’t really see the crowd, I focus on becoming my truest self. There’s always that moment, once the nerves settle, where I just let go and put it all out there. So yes, inviting people into my world is definitely something I try to do. More than anything, I want people to feel something. Whether it’s joy, truth, sadness, whatever it may be, I want them to walk away thinking, “Wow. That was powerful.” After our last full performance, a friend came up to me with tears in their eyes, talking about how deeply the performance moved them and It’s moments like that which make me feel so full, it’s the reason why we do this, and it makes it all so worth it.
Something of a philosophical question, what does music give you that nothing else does?
This is such a loaded question, but I’m so grateful to answer it. Music gives me something nothing else ever has: a voice. Growing up, I was quiet and kept to myself. I often felt like my words didn’t matter, so I rarely spoke up. But I loved to sing, singing became a way to keep myself company. When I eventually learned to play guitar, I was terrified to sing in front of people. But once I got over that fear, I never stopped. Music has become woven into every part of my journey. Every song marks a moment in the timeline of my experience. Music was something I could laugh to, dance to, cry to. It gave me a deep sense of being understood, like someone else out there felt what I was feeling. It gave me ways to connect with others, myself and strangers. Singing in the car, with friends, the windows down, wind in my hair. At a bar belting a sad song with someone I just met. In short, if art is how we decorate space, music is how we decorate time.
