In the DNA of Nilüfer Yanya’s music you hear the unmistakable guitar strains of mid-aughts bands such as Interpol, The Strokes, and The Libertines. These were the albums that her older sister was listening to when Yanya was in her early teens. Her mother preferred classical music while her Istanbul-born father played a lot of music from his homeland. Growing up in an interracial family (her mother is Barbadian-Irish and her father Turkish), with parents who were both visual artists, Yanya and her two siblings were encouraged to indulge in creative pursuits—drawing, piano, nature, imaginative play—rather than the indiscriminate consumption of mass pop culture. This is the mélange that sets her apart from most.
So unlike her peers, she didn’t spend her childhood mimicking the voices of reigning divas or pop stars? “No,” comes the abrupt reply, from the otherwise bubbly 26-year-old, from her cellphone in London. Later she sends me her personal Spotify playlist of Turkish music. It’s diverse, from psych-rock to chanson-inflected folk and traditional fare, much of it is affecting even though I don’t understand the language. And while Yanya admits she still feels a little disconnected from her Turkish heritage—partly she believes because her family weren’t afforded the
