it’s your pity party, pity party, pity party,
you’re doing it again
at your pity party, pity party, pity party
acting like you don’t understand
I wonder what you’re looking for
acceptance isn’t here
knocking at your door
pick up your drink
and toast some more
zero interactions
on the dance floor
are we still talking like before?
cause it’s my birthday
so we should celebrate
on my birthday
we should celebrate
it’s your pity party, pity party, pity party,
you’re doing it again
at your pity party, pity party, pity party
acting like you don’t understand
I wonder what lies
beneath your bad behaviour
wish I could understand
instead I pretend
you’re in your head
you’re in your head
you’re in your head
you’re in your head
it’s your pity party, pity party, pity party,
you’re doing it again
at your pity party, pity party, pity party
acting like you don’t understand
Crafting an artifact for those pivotal moments in our lives comes naturally for songwriter Muna Ileiwat. By embracing those sacred, shifting currents, the London-based, US-born songwriter carves a new pathway into the ground we thought our feet would never leave. New EP Twenty-Seven follows the fluctuating grief of lost friendships, the anger of sudden change and the overwhelming sight of a new horizon but Muna isn’t deterred by a hairpin bend––instead, it brought her back to herself, and eventually to her greatest and deepest joy: creating for the sake of it.
The percussive, voltaic opener “Pity Party” served as the catalyst for this latest collection, introducing Ileiwat’s euphoric blend of indie pop electronica. Inspired by an event that happened on the last night of her twenty-seventh year, Muna began exploring and unpicking the emotional baggage from those twelve months to try to make sense of where her life was going. “That year marks a time when I became somewhat of an open book,” she explains. “I had no time for people’s bullshit and decided I was just going to start tackling life with 100% conviction.” This self-assured stance is palpable throughout the EP’s assertive offerings, as she laments “I wonder what you're looking for, acceptance isn't here knocking at your door.”
Hit with a sudden break-up at the start of the pandemic, Muna shunned social media and instead turned to more organic methods of catharsis. “I was trying to not be too precious about my songwriting or my art in general. It’s hindered me in a lot of ways in the past –– writer’s block that eventually turns into existential creative anxiety,” she says. Creating a project solely for herself, with no intention of releasing it or getting too attached to the end product saw Ileiwat’s creativity flourish. And with this open bloom, came new collaborators and a new community.
Recorded at Zig Zag studios in Woolwich, London, Twenty-Seven’s sonic world sees Ileiwat stretch her creative muscles to create an intricate, saturnine setting that embraces gloomy keys, sauntering bass guitar – played by Abi Sinclair – and crisp, lingering percussion, played by James Luxton (Fenne Lily). However, this isn’t an EP that wallows in its melancholy––instead, it offers a measured and sometimes cheeky refrain, as Ileiwat declares “There is ambition, and there is defeat or a whiny bitch underneath,” on the EP’s stripped-down, lilting title track. The song’s combination of bright, finger-plucked guitar and fitful electronic percussion mimics the bumpy ride that comes with exploring and honouring the transformative emotions of early adulthood, but it also reaches for clarity among the fog of uncertainty. Here, Muna faces her demons head on with humour, wit and grace.
Twenty-Seven recognises the anguish and anxiety of finding your way in a world that offers no road map. By exploring and addressing these existential feelings, Muna ultimately offers a sense of purpose and inner-tranquility. Twenty-Seven is the joy in missing out, and the hunger for something better. “My main inspiration throughout this process was exercising and accepting a lack of control. Creatively, writing and recording this EP felt new in many ways. It felt like I reclaimed my innovation by just creating for myself,” she says. “It’s a profound way to experience a sense of community and being able to share that with others is wonderful in many ways. It made me realise that’s the real reason I wanted to make art in the first place.”
credits
released August 19, 2022
Produced and mixed by Harri Chambers
Lyrics and guitar by Muna Ileiwat
Bass by Abi Sinclair
Drums by James Luxton
Mastered by Moshik Kop
Cover photo by Guy Gotto
Art direction by Tilly de Verteuil
Twenty-Seven out now on fear of missing out records.
Growing up in disparate cultures and
spaces, Muna Ileiwat writes songs about the experiences that have shaped her. Her indie pop songs are rooted in nostalgia, crafting an artifact for those pivotal moments in life....more
supported by 8 fans who also own “Twenty-Seven EP”
Stunning genre mashup between hip-hop, electronic, r&b, and all sorts of other surprising sounds. Great singing and rapping, fascinating beats, and song structures that keep shifting and mutating. A super album. Mike Gintz
supported by 8 fans who also own “Twenty-Seven EP”
Dearest Arooj, firstly thank you. My brother died this year n what can be said about such loss n sadness. I saw n heard you at The end of the Road in England. I spent many years in India n love all the music, poetry of your heritage. Thankyou Arooj❤️ ben1769
supported by 7 fans who also own “Twenty-Seven EP”
Just a beautiful jazzy rap album with buttery smooth flows versed with huge talent. It's not only lovely to the ears, but the lyrics are profound and empowering about the struggles that she faces. zhangtastic
This artful synthpop outing features spotless production, dreamy hooks, and cozy, minimalistic arrangements that nod to American folk. Bandcamp New & Notable Jun 2, 2024
Canadian singer, cellist, and producer filters sobering reflections on grief through a buoyant, balmy dream-pop lens. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 13, 2022
A nostalgic record full of ambling rhythms, vivid imagery, and cotton-soft melodies tapped out on an ever-present ’70s synth-organ hybrid. Bandcamp Album of the Day Nov 11, 2021