Part 1

Name: Sandra St. Victor
Nationality: American
Occupation: Singer, songwriter
Current Release: Sandra St. Victor's new album Eleven is out via Mother Tongue.   
Hometown Recommendations: I enjoy history. Good and bad. It’s the knowledge for me. For my current city: John Frost Bridge. For my hometown: Dealey Plaza. You can figure out the cities.
Things that I am passionate about but rarely get to talk about: I view politics from a historical global perspective. I recognize patterns. I wish more of us would take the time to understand the phrase "history doesn't repeat itself, but it often rhymes”. It often does, but really doesn’t have to, though. In more enlightened times, humanity has found ways to learn from the past and better their societies. Of course, heights and dips are expected, the arc of justice and all that … but damn if we couldn't move this thing along at a better clip if we only recognized how much we could learn from widening our field of vision. There I go, preaching. I’ll step down from my soapbox now.

If you enjoyed this Sandra St. Victor interview, and would like to know more about her music and catch her perform live, visit her official website. She is also on Instagram, bandcamp, and Facebook.



Where does the impulse to create something come from for you? What role do often-quoted sources of inspiration like dreams, other forms of art, personal relationships, politics etc play?

I’ve often been gifted entire songs in my dreams—entire productions.

If I’m smart and cognizant of the moment, I grab my phone, or long ago, my Sony Walkman, and sing every part that I can: the melody, bass, drum parts, everything. When I wake up, I can send it to one of my co-writers to bring to life. If I fall back asleep without doing that, I know when I wake up that I'd missed something.

“Regarding Leon” was inspired by the decor of an old hotel room in Paris, April 2002. I recorded it a cappella. Mother Tongue’s EDB put a beat and bass under it, and my co-writer Tom Hammer laid down keys.



The bass line for the original “Ghetto Heaven” was something I heard in my head, and sang it to V. Jeffrey Smith to play.

I’m an avid people watcher. I could sit at an outdoor café for hours, and I will invent, or perhaps divine, stories of the folks I see, their interactions, what they mean, where they’ve been, what they desire. I store these imaginings somewhere, and they pop out when I’m writing.

“Knocked Up, and Locked Down” on Mack Diva Saves The World was an amalgamation of a woman I watched pushing an infant in a carriage while her toddler complained by her side, interspersed with a baaaaad relationship I was in at the time.



On that same album, “Since You’ve Been Gone” lamented the lover whom I was silly enough to let get away.

Naturally, the world around me is consistently inspirational. It can put me in a bad mood if I allow that. That bad mood can translate into a song that not only says what I need to say, but also is an outlet for that intense energy to pass.

Relationships, love, friendships, or business leave imprints on us. As a writer, I dig into my own plethora of emotions and experiences and find many ways to talk it out, so to speak. What’s the phrase? Don’t ever piss off a songwriter. Ha! You’ll know. I’ve had exes say to me, I knew that song was about me. Yep. It was.

On the other side, I at times feel like a funky fairy outside with sun on my face, as if all is well with it all. I’ve looked back on one or two of those hippy dippy moments and cringed. Without regret, though. As long as I was authentic in that moment, it was really real for me; I’m good. Let it be.

For you to get started, do there need to be concrete ideas – or what some have called a 'visualisation' of the finished work? What does the balance between planning and chance look like for you?

Not at all. I do love when I hear a track that hits me immediately. Chord changes that are undeniable make me hum and sing right away. But I can start from scratch with just a passing thought, or a concept, a thing that I feel I have to say.

With that in mind, I guess I’d say it’s mostly chance.

Is there a preparation phase for your process? Do you require your tools to be laid out in a particular way, for example, do you need to do 'research' or create 'early versions'?

I jump right in with songwriting. I don’t ‘play it out’ first. If I hear something, I wanna get it down as quickly as possible.

Alternately, when I’m writing a script, I have many versions before I’m satisfied.

Do you have certain rituals to get you into the right mindset for creating?

When I’m in writing mode, I’m pretty isolated. Quiet. I need space around me.

On my last album, I rented a literal cabin in the woods for an entire month to achieve this peace. Being surrounded by the woods, the wooden logs of the cabin, darkness and dead silence at night was stimulating in a way that I’d not experienced for a long time. The smells around me, the whistling breeze through the trees, all felt like they were there as an orchestra of inspiration.

Time moved slower somehow, as I had no obligation except to the music. I slept very little and worked at all hours. It was wonderful. I need to do that again.

It’s reminding me now of when The Family Stand was recording Moon In Scorpio, having a studio lockout for us day in and day out.



We showed up early, worked all day in two different rooms, ordered food in, went home to listen to the day's productions and decide how to proceed. Next day, rinse and repeat.

Those are magical times for the creative process. You’re never really out of your element.

What role do certain foods or stimulants like coffee, lighting, scents, exercise or reading poetry play?

Candles, incense, my hair tied up, comfy clothes (with pockets!). When I begin, I may start with coffee or tea, but I must have water to stay hydrated, because I tend to forget for long stretches of time that eating is important.

I’ve recently realized that I subconsciously take a lot of deep breaths while writing. It helps me stay focused, keyed in, but relaxed.

For Eleven, what did you start with? If there were conceptual considerations, what were they?

The first concept was a collaboration, or sonic clash of genres between Mother Tongue’s Patrick Gibin and me. His world of dance, boogie, and electronica is on another side of my soul, funk, rock background. We felt it would be fire to bridge these elements into one.

As far as concepts, I knew I’d be digging into my state of mind, my outlook on the fantastical madness of our world presently. Still, my infinite belief is that everything is everything, and it’s all gon’ be alright. As one wise homeless man once said, “at the end of the day, the day gotta end”. That struck me as so true.

The number eleven made itself known. It’s been eleven years since my last release, and I’ve had ten releases, making “Eleven” the eleventh, obviously. I’ll tell you exactly what I said to Mother Tongue to explain why I titled the album Eleven.

“11” is a synchronistic offering: the 1 and the 1, both sides of the Gemini, in essence, Twin flames with myself. She encompasses the bold, in-your-face sensual Mother Earth of Mack Diva Saves The World, the self-reflection of Gemini: Both Sides, and the spirituality voiced through Oya’s Daughter. A collision of my inner dialogue over my career.



The number eleven is a master number, signifying intuition and heightened energy. Like Oya, it represents a bridge between the mortal and spiritual realms. She opens doors of potential for deep inner wisdom and artistic abilities.

The 11th Hour is what the world is in as we speak. I see things as now coming to the fore, emerging to light, being revealed, for the good of us all, though we gotta go through the flames to get there.

Tell me a bit about the way the new material developed and gradually took its final form, please.

It happened organically, first with Patrick and me bouncing songs off of each other, and getting a feel for the collaboration. Subsequently, he worked on the music on his end with his production team, and I worked with mine out of the US.

No egos involved. Just a very real commitment to the music, the expression, rhythm, the art form itself. We struck a good balance of vibes between us that stayed true to ourselves while flirting with the possibilities, a communal bang as it were. That sounded nastier than I meant it to sound. But it said what I wanted to say, so fuck it.

The album is absolutely a joint effort from the rooter to the tooter. Inception to mastering, we communicated well and came to the perfect balance of things always.

What makes lyrics good in your opinion? What are your own ambitions and challenges in this regard?

Lyrics must touch somebody somewhere. They don’t have to touch everybody. If they do, they're probably close to pablum. Someone has to not get it. And that’s ok.

For it to stand the test of time though, it must hit people where memories are stored. A lyric can come into my mind around almost any subject. I know that’s because music is my business. Although for most people, they get a certain feeling or memory when songs that touched them come on.

I strive to always feel what I’m writing in my core; my solar plexus gets warm. It’s like butterflies in your stomach, for lack of a better description.

When someone comes up to me and says, “that song of yours got me through this or that”, that is the top compliment for me as a writer. That happens often, thankfully.

One song in particular from the Gemini: Both Sides album, “They’re Cool”, has been one of my most special songs in that way.



So far on this release, it’s already feeling like “Regarding Leon” and “No More Water” will touch people in a similar manner. I’m very curious to experience that play out.



My biggest challenge is I have so much to say! In pop music, we’re expected to be exceptionally concise. I actually envy rappers for being able to squeeze so many words into one song.

“What Would Miles Do” on this project is one of my favs because I am basically talking in rhythm. I do not dare say I am rapping. I am talking my thoughts out, and yes, they occasionally rhyme.