Track By Track Through Tanaya Harper's Dreamy Debut Album 'They Have Become Me'

Perth/Boorloo’s princess of indie-pop Tanaya Harper can now add classical to her repertoire with debut album They Have Become Me.

Building on the success of three stellar EPs, the highly anticipated album is a shoegazing indie-pop concoction that is both refreshingly original and distinctly Harper. The foray into classical is a new addition, and was influenced by Harper’s time performing with a string quartet at Perth’s Tender Is The Night gigs.

“I was inspired to explore the sonic possibilities outside of my historical band set-up of guitar, bass, and drums,” Harper says of the experience. “I guess the rest is history!”

Recruiting composer Jared Yapp and Andrew Lawson of Debaser Studios, Harper began the process of experimenting with this new sound and new medium. The production process even saw Harper record parts on the piano, which she confesses “was so painful.”

“I do not consider myself a pianist, recording the piano took me ages!”

You can catch Harper’s piano skills on the track Bonded Pair (and the full story behind it below!).

Harper’s music always radiates intimacy, and They Have Become Me is no exception, deftly navigating the intricacies of life and relationships. The title of the album speaks to these experiences, and the impact they have had on Harper.

“These songs are an amalgamation of many of the interpersonal relationships, challenges and subsequent periods of growth that have amounted to who I am,” Harper explains. “They have become me!”

“For the longest time I have a different title lined up for the album,” Harper admits, “but I’m going to keep that a secret because that might become the title for album two…”

Ahead of the album’s launch party scheduled for November, Harper has offered us a glimpse into the creative process behind each track;

1. Night Terrors
Night Terrors was the first song I wrote with an orchestral arrangement in mind. Upon hearing Lark by Angel Olsen from All Mirrors, I felt that this was a perfect song.

Lark sounds as cinematic as life itself, and I decided that this was the kind of album I would like to write. Life as a film, in a sense, where songs depict scenes of intense emotion and character development, as well as scenes of stillness and reflection where it can seem like nothing is happening when actually everything is happening in the way of growth.

Night Terrors is about trying to move on from someone and step into the future with another person. However, I found that without allowing for the necessary amount of time between relationships I was just dragging previous patterns of thought and behaviour into the next one.

2. Cleo
Cleo is my ‘fuck you, onwards and upwards’ song.

It’s the post-breakup song. That person is still there in your everyday thoughts, whether you like it or not, and you know there will come a day when they won’t still exist in your present moments, but that time hasn’t come yet. 

All the things they said. All the times you tried. The inner-voice that you put on mute for so long is now speaking and it’s screaming - it’s pissed off - but it’s also aware of a nicer place beyond the horizon and there’s a sense of peace and calm in knowing that no matter how much self-neglect you engaged in, the truth is that nothing is wasted, everything carries with it a deep truth, however uncomfortable it may be to look at yourself.

I wrote this song during the most bizarre EP launch weekend down in Esperance. I decided to make use of this trip and turn it into a songwriting retreat. I was nine-hours away from Perth, alone, going through a break-up, and had just listened to Blue Weekend by Wolf Alice four times in a row. I was totally pumped to write a song, and so Cleo came out. 

I’d been reading about schema’s and attachment styles and was very focussed on understanding how I had let such an unfulfilling partnership last for so long.
Cleo was the name of the cat that lived at the airbnb. She was asleep, making little cat snores while I wrote Cleo in bed, so of course I had to name it after her.

3. Bonded Pair
Bonded Pair was originally written on guitar. I had a songwriting session with local songwriter Camarano, and whilst I played guitar he joined in on piano. I much preferred how the shift to piano made the song sound more fragile. 

Moving the song to piano very much dictated how soft the vocals have ended up on the final track. The piano version leant itself to the string quartet fitting in perfectly, so it went from being an angsty grunge song to a piano song that I sent to Jared to write an arrangement for.

Recording the actual piano was hilarious because Camarano wasn’t available for the recording date, so I had to follow his demo track and play it myself. I am not a strong piano player, so I definitely had a sweat during the process. Andy was so incredibly patient with me.  

A Bonded Pair is actually a pair of cats who have bonded and should not be separated - like when you see two cats who are only to be adopted as a pair because they’ve grown up together etc. 

I came across this term at a time when I re-homed one of my two cats - she was extremely moody and unhappy not being an ‘only’ cat - so I, indeed, split up the bonded pair, which eventually resulted in happiness for them both, after the initial withdrawal process. 

This got me thinking about how sometimes we stay in relationships for far too long, simply due to the fear of the perceived loss; the feeling of the chemical withdrawal the body undertakes during a break-up is horrible, but it’s no reason to stay. If my two cats ended up fine - better than ever, in fact - after being separated, then surely humans do it! Ha.

4. Young Leo
Oh Leo…oh YOUNG Leo. He’s too old for me now. 

At six years old, Jack Dawson was my first crush. He was fun, vivacious, smart, kind, and totally in love with Rose - a fictitious person and a fictitious relationship, and yet, far more exciting on screen than any romance I’d committed to. 

So with a glass of wine in hand, whilst Covid positive and going through a break-up, I performed on my yoga mat (as if it were a stage) to my cat Larry. Whilst I belted My Heart Will Go On at the top of my lungs, I recalled the scene when Rose is being lowered in a life-boat, and she’s looking up at Jack with fireworks behind him.

I thought of these character’s mutual love, infatuation, loyalty and respect, and I realized in my drunken stupor that for so long I had been settling for so much less than I deserved, needed and wanted. I’d been settling for less than the bare minimum. 

And then I wrote Young Leo.

5. Role Models

Role Models was the first song written for the album. 

I’d gone to Pemberton alone to embark on a writing retreat. I booked a beautiful, off-the-grid tiny house called ‘Ryan’s Rest’ that had no satellite available. I was really alone. 

It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I was going through a truly difficult, depressive time in my life due to so many factors, but the overriding factor during this chapter in my life was that I’d cut contact with a parent of mine. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, but I had to do it in order to understand myself, the parental factors that had influenced me, what I’d like to work on / change / improve - and I needed space to do that. 

I believe that space from people at times can be absolutely necessary, as painful as it is. Just because someone is a relative or a life-long friend, does not mean that you must remain in contact if having them in your life is not healthy for you at that particular time.  

There are many, many reasons people may need to cut someone off for a period, and I was processing my reasons and the inevitably grief that came with that - all whilst alone in a paddock, unable to call a friend or have a hug, as my deepest insecurities and flaws were surfacing.  

Role Models is a song about parents. They are people too; flawed, stumbling through life, trying their best, learning. They also happen to have children who will absolutely be impacted by them, no matter how well they mean. 

6. Night Terrors 2.0
Night Terrors, Part 2 was inspired by my deep love of songs that have two versions of themselves; alternate versions that are oftentimes more beautiful to me. 

Examples of this include; Beach 2 (Wolf Alice) and Suburbs 2 (Arcade Fire).

Just when I thought I loved their initial versions, I fell even more in love with this idea that their second versions were posing to me - the potential for a song to have a longer life than originally thought.  

I told Jared about this secret love of mine and asked him to write an alternate arrangement, that does not contain vocals, for Night Terrors. I told him that I wanted it to be cinematic, as if it were a film score using the same chord progressions.

He nailed the assignment. 

7. Flashbacks

The verses explore how it feels to move through this world newly-single, and how alienating it is even when done for the right reasons. It’s difficult and scary to go through a break-up, so I had to keep reminding myself to keep going, that there’s a light at the end of the tunnel and I just have to keep feeling the way that I’m feeling until that veil lifts.

This song is about reclaiming my space, my time, my body and my place in this world. Also about re-discovering friendships that I’d neglected whilst in a romantic relationship, and realising how much more important friendships are than romance.

8. Pemberton
Whilst I was staying in Pemberton for the songwriting retreat, I was in awe of the Kookaburra’s song every dusk. They would start in one spot, which would set off a family 100m away, which would set off another family like dominoes. 

The natural reverb in the valley was insane, so I rushed out to record this daily event when I heard them starting to call. 

I called the voice memo ‘Dusk Birds’, which is a little auditory memento of the origins of the album. I wrote Role Models the following evening.

9. Role Models (Demo)

In the days leading up to this demo being recorded I cried so many tears. 

I was trying to write - trying my hardest to access an authenticity in my songwriting. Trying to come up with hooks, trying to come up with ‘good lines’. Beating myself up and self-inflicting imposter syndrome. Why the fuck am I bothering? I suck.

I kept losing grasp because I wasn’t being still and contemplative, but instead trying to write ‘songs for the album’, I was putting pressure on myself to write something ‘great’ which in turn was preventing me from being totally vulnerable with myself. 

Perhaps I was actually too scared to say what I really wanted to say? After all, given that Role Models is about parents, maybe I almost felt like I wasn’t allowed to write this song. Until, I then, allowed it.

This demo was recorded within a minute or two of finalising the lyrics of role models, which I wrote in bed, at night, with a very low light on. It all came together very quickly because it’s only three chords. 

10. Fog

My shoe-gaze honey, Fog. 

Just when I thought I had finished recording the album (I literally had finished recording the album - took photos with Andy, thanked him very much for his time and moved onto mixing) I called for space with someone.

I didn’t think I had anymore songs in me, and then BAM, just like always - when I need to process interpersonal difficulties - Fog appeared. There was the fog of time invested, work put in and love for one another clouding my judgement as to whether I needed to end things. 

I had to make a decision and stick with it, so I wrote Fog to remind myself of some of the reasons why I was choosing to end things. It’s a shitty place to be in, to have to follow your gut when the truth is sometimes hard to see, and that’s why it’s named Fog.

I changed the tuning of the guitar for this song, which I’d never done before, and from this tuning came the song. The chords just kind of found each other and fit together so nicely that writing a melody over the top of them came very quickly. 

I have a really good relationship with local musician Ezekiel Padmanabham who I’d always wanted to work with ever since I fell in love with his production/involvement in projects GAZEY and Scratching (FKA Grace Sanders). 

I sent him a bedroom demo of Fog and asked if he’d like to record the song with me - which he did, and I loved every moment of being in the studio with him. That’s the dream really, to have people you deeply respect come and work on your songs with you. He played the guitar and the moog. I played guitar and bass. We had a great day.  

11. Waltz
Whilst waiting to go back into the studio to record Fog, I was very much going through the difficult stages of a break up. Reflecting, analysing, assessing, processing - everything.

I was reading a lot of books on psychology and learning about how and why we might pick certain people, and why two people who aren’t overly compatible still might try to make it work. I was experiencing strong moments of clarity, post-fog.

One day I was sitting on my living room floor, not sure what to do with myself - that kind of grief paralysis - and I started humming a melody, which I tried to find the chords for on this crappy little keyboard I own. At the time I was obsessed with Troye Sivan’s album Something To Give Each other and the song Still Got It in particular. 

It’s this organ ballad and it hurts in the best way. I listened to that song so many times, and it reminded me of how I’ve had a goal to write a moog ballad. 

I told Andy that I had this idea that I wanted to try and get done in my final hour of studio time booked, and he went with it like a champion. We were really tired at this point, that I remember - we weren’t even talking in sentences anymore, both a bit agitated, but we did it, we got it down and I love this song for the little moment of contemplation and realisation that it is.

So we moved the chords that I wrote on the living room floor to the moog, and because it’s in 3/4 I named this little moog ballad, Waltz.

12. Celeste

This song really is my higher self talking to me.

I was in yoga, going through one of the hardest periods of my life, and in a moment of absolute stillness the instructor (whose name is Celeste) said ‘reject nothing’. 

I was going through so much internal struggle at this time, but I also knew that when things are hard, there’s often an educational reason for it. Something is shifting inside (hopefully for the better) and although it feels uncomfortable and scary and horrible, when things come up emotionally we should let them come up, have a look at them. Ask why they are here and where they came from. 

Reject nothing - accept everything, is another way to view the phrase. 

I left the class and began humming immediately. As I was walking to my car I hit record on a voice memo - I still have the recording of me breathing and walking and getting in my car and trying my best to not let the melody leave me. I got home, raced to the piano and nutted the song out. 

At the time I was spending a lot of time with my spiritual self in order to get through these challenges, and the messages I’d receive from cards and meditation were always so clearly ‘everything will be alright, you’re okay, you’re exactly where you’re meant to be, just listen’, so that’s the direction the lyrics went in. 

Ultimately, no one had the answer for me. I had to make a really big life decision and I couldn’t let shame be the one to make the decision. I had to see myself, be proud of myself and make the right decision for me, my wellbeing and my happiness, even though it was a very tough decision to make.

Again, I told Andy that I had an idea. I played it for him on the piano, I didn’t have a demo, and we just went for it straight away and he followed my lead into recording it.

Tanaya Harper’s debut album ‘They Have Become Me’ is out now. The first chance to hear ‘They Have Become Me’ is at the official album launch on Saturday 16 November. Tickets are available here.