In Focus: Rimon

For WAVE Mag // Issue 005

Interview By: Nicola Davies

 

Born in Eritrea, living most of her life near Amsterdam, RIMON is a creative force to be reckoned with. She released her debut single Grace almost three years ago and has since been working with the ALLE$ Lifestyle collective - a group of creative friends including photographers, make-up artists and producers – to collaborate on visual content.

Having released two EPs, BBYGIRL FOCU$ in 2018 and I Shine, U Shine earlier this year, RIMON is now working on multiple projects. However, feeling reluctant to release her debut album too soon, she’s pivoted to release another EP, with a conceptual album to follow.

Ahead of the release, RIMON sat down with WAVE to talk about Ethiopian and Eritrean artists, taking time in 2020 to reflect, and what success means.

When you were 17, you left school to pursue music. Did you feel like you were already an outsider having moved from Eritrea, and therefore did you feel like doing the opposite of what was expected of you?

First of all, being a refugee makes you feel like an outcast. We were in a little village next to Amsterdam, which was predominantly white. It didn’t really bother me until I was getting older and I felt this huge urge to rebel against everything, including my upbringing; the rules in the house, my culture, my schools, everything that was telling me how to act. Only good things came from that era in my life. I was meeting dope, like-minded people. I think that helped me do this whole music thing and be very reckless with it.

Do you keep connected with what’s happening over in Ethiopia and Eritrea music wise?

Not really the modern music. They drop songs every day. I prefer more of the older stuff, artists like Mulatu Astatke, the more jazz vibe. There are so many sick Ethiopian and Eritrean artists. There’s a girl in London, Alewya. There are people like Mereba, Aminé, Berhana. There’s this guy called Chiiild - best project of the year. I would love for all these people to go to Ethiopia, be in a studio for a month and just create music.

Your first single, Grace, dropped in 2018. It now has over six million streams on Spotify in only a few years. How did that first release feel?

Before I dropped Grace, I was very much aware of what I wanted to do in this music thing. I was making music for three years already with Samuel [Kareem], who produces all my stuff. I remember when Grace dropped, I was in my room, the shittiest room in Amsterdam. I was so excited, so proud, so happy, because at that time I was completely independent. After that the response was crazy and that made me feel like, ‘People love it, people love the visuals’, and it gave me a boost.

But along the way I felt I was being sucked into this world of actually being an artist, dropping music consistently and being in this industry, and I had a tough time of understanding that concept of, ‘there’s no way back now, it’s not a hobby anymore’. I’m so glad I overcame all this turbulence and everything at once.

What makes you and Samuel work so well together? Do you ever feel like you would also like to work with other producers?

First of all, he’s a musical genius. When we’re in a studio, he makes something and I automatically know, ‘this is going to be great’. So, I’ll always, always work with him, that’s my brother.

But I’ve moved to London recently. One of the reasons was obviously quarantine - I just felt very uninspired [in Amsterdam]. Another reason is that I’ve been making music with Samuel for five years now, and I don’t want to change anything about that. But I did feel like I needed to be in different situations to challenge myself again instead of being in a very comfortable bubble. I’ve done sessions with loads of producers and it’s very scary because you’re very used to this energy you already have with a person that understands you. But I think it’s really important for my personal growth, and with that baggage full of knowledge that I’ve learned in the past months, I’ll go back home and we’ll make music again.

Your creativity goes way beyond music, which is clear through your beautiful videos, and recent short film, What They Called Me. Where do you get that creative drive and vision from?

Sometimes I feel like there is a hole in my head and I’m channeling ideas from somewhere in the universe. I need ways to express myself and it comes very naturally. Lyrics and music is already a great way of expressing, but in my mind that needs to be the whole picture and you have to have sounds, music, book, characters, story.

The I Shine U Shine EP came out earlier this year as as a follow up to BBYGIRL FOCU$. How did the second EP recording and release process feel different from the first?

I make songs and look back at them and see a certain line. In BBYGIRL FOCU$, I saw love, heartbreak, and then feeling stronger in the end. With I Shine, U Shine, I felt this line of love and fear, trying to surrender to love instead of being stuck in this fearful thought. I Never Learned How to Cope is between me and my mum and the relationship we had. Then all the other songs are a bit more about love. I was listening to BBYGIRL FOCU$ for the first time in a year and I was like, ‘oh my God, this sounds sick’, so I do see very much of a growth in production, vocally, lyrics, everything.

You write songs from your life experiences. Do you ever feel like you put too much out there, or is it helpful for you to share those emotions?

They’re mad helpful because I’ve matured in a way that I’m way more comfortable expressing my emotions. I want to focus on my feelings, my mental health, what I really feel on the traumas and the stuff I’ve been through. I recognised in all of my projects that there’s always a positive note at the end, I think that’s going to be my little thing that defines me as a person.

Did you find a coping mechanism during lockdown that helped you come out the other side?

The past two years, my schedule was just going, going, going, and I really appreciated that I had time off to think and reflect, and just do nothing. What I found out was that my inner voice - the voice that’s talking to you throughout the day - it’s mad toxic and I was never, ever aware of that. I would never talk like this to someone I love dearly, so why do I tell myself all these things? I think that was a shock, because I always perceived myself as a very confident, strong person that wasn’t insecure, and it wasn’t the image I had of myself. Then that whole image crumbled down.

What does success mean to you?

I think success is also just doing what I want for the rest of my life on my own terms. If I manage to make music, create visuals, create stories, ideas, till I die, and provide for my family alongside of it, then I’m the happiest person ever.