The Narcotix describe themselves as “a West African art-rock band with feathers all over.” Indeed, the duo of Esther Quansah and Becky Foinchas make music that’s hard to define. They met as kids in rural Virginia, both daughters of African immigrants. Consequently, their work is informed by everything from alternative rock to African folk music. Their debut EP, Mommy Issues, was recorded early in the COVID pandemic and released in 2021. Now they are back with their first full-length album, Dying, a nine track song cycle that, despite its title, is life-affirming. The songs on Dying contain exquisite harmonies, empowering lyrics, and odd time signatures.
I recently had the pleasure of talking with The Narcotix for BUST.
Was recording Dying similar to Mommy Issues? Tell me a little about the process.
Esther Quansah: Well, we had a writing retreat in the jungles of Mexico. We were like, “Okay, we need to lock ourselves up in nature and flesh out some ideas that we already had and also come up with new music.” A lot of the music from Dying came from that retreat. [But] there are a few songs that we wrote a while ago that didn’t quite come out the way we envisioned.
The majority of Mommy Issues was passed back and forth [electronically]. With Dying, there was a little of that [but] we had this retreat. We were together for a lot of the crafting and stuff.
Tell me [how] the two of you met. You go way back.
EQ: Mm-hmm. Swans Creek Elementary School. I was a new kid. I moved from some super Fairfax County-esque elementary school. Becky was one of the cool kids.
Becky Foinchas: [laughs] That’s so funny! [In] fourth grade, no one is the [cool] kid! But I do remember I was just growing my hair back from having shaved my head for some reason. The next day, the boy that I liked, David Riley, was like, “You look like a boy.” And that was the end of that.
I’m gonna ask each of you [this] separately. Becky, what does Esther bring to The Narcotix that’s special?
BF: It’s hard to say because she is The Narcotix. I can’t think of The Narcotix without thinking of Esther as [the band’s] mother. You know, someone who has given birth. Someone who I have immense respect for. Literally, she’s one of my favorite musicians. She brings my favorite music to the world.
Esther, what does Becky bring that’s special?
EQ: She brings the sunshine. This external glow that attracts people in. People, especially onstage, are immediately drawn to [her] magnetism.
The reason we’re making this music is because we want to inspire vulnerability. We want to inspire people to return to their childish selves and to remove the masks, you know? And I feel like [Becky] is the poster child for that. I wouldn’t say I’m the opposite, but I have a lot of guards up. This is why I always felt comfortable making music by myself, in my bedroom. If it weren’t for this project, nobody would ever hear any music that I create.
Tell me about any women who have influenced you. They can be musicians but they don’t have to be.
EQ: We both grew up in West African households. So there’s this huge gap. When people would [say], “My influences are so and so, Aretha Franklin” — I can appreciate what they do but I didn’t grow up knowing that music. But at the same time, [I was influenced by] the things that I read. Jane Austen. Virginia Woolf. These white women from [the] 1800s. So in a way, the world that was created for me as a little kid is a world of women doing things.
BF: Honestly, the first woman that comes to mind is my dad’s mom. She died maybe six years ago — something like that. I would go visit her. Mind you, she was in her 90s, like, jumping on the couch. Farming coffee beans. Karate kicking sugar cane! She was like a warrior — a woman that raised five African boys! And did so gracefully.
EQ: Someone I left out was Nina Simone. This influence came a little later. I knew her music, but I didn’t know her story until maybe five [or] 10 years ago. She was playing classical piano for a bunch of white slave owners. I was like, “Whoa!” I catapulted to when I was a kid and I was playing classical music — not for white slave owners. [laughter] But [in] a crowd where nobody looked like me. It wasn’t all roses and laughs for her; it was very traumatic. But when I listen to her music and what she created [despite] her circumstances – we have no excuses!
NARCOTIX ON THE FOREST FLOOR IMAGE COURTESY OF FLORENCIA VILLA; NARCOTIX PICTURES WITH AUTHOR COURTESY OF DAVE STEINFeld
