SUNDAY SONGS #1

A new series featuring the stories behind my songs. Here's the wild, mystical tale of "Durga," the warrior goddess of love and fight. Give a listen.

Today, instead of a Sorta Dharma Talk, I’m offering Sunday Songs, where I’ll share the very personal story behind a song in my catalog. To kick this series off, here’s the wild, mystical tale behind, “Durga,” from my third album 2016’s Wolves.

I wrote “Durga” in 2013, when my twins were a few months old, on a most welcome assignment from my friend, the singer-songwriter Larkin Grimm. At the time, she and

Jesse Paris Smith

were curating a music series at the Rubin Museum of Art. Participants were asked to write and then perform a song based on an object from the museum’s collection of Buddhist art.

I chose a small sculpture of Durga, the warrior goddess, one of several Hindu deities adopted into the Tantric Buddhist tradition. With her fierce gaze and multiple arms, Durga is a mother first, associated with protection, strength, and the transmutation of negative energy. The song came to me as an immediate download. As a new mother struggling to balance two babies, and keep a decade-long music career alive, Durga seemed to pull the pain from my heart.

The performance was my first since becoming a mother, and I had a whole complicated set-up planned — lots of moody special effects, the works! But at soundcheck, my pedal board mysteriously malfunctioned, and I ended up performing the song sans bells and whistles, just my voice, acoustic guitar, and the quiet hum of the museum at night. I had never felt so naked yet powerful in my life.

Performing “Durga” alongside Durga at the Rubin Museum of Art, 2013

Months later, the image of Durga, with her many arms and tools — a bow and arrow, a hammer, a shell — came to me in a dream. Days later, my one-year-old son, Lou was diagnosed with cancer. During that painful time, it often felt like everyone needed me to be love and light, but I was love and fight, struggling to make sense of the darkness while I kept my son alive. I was grateful for Durga, the song that had spilled out in her presence, and the teaching of that stripped down performance at the Rubin, which at that point, felt like a lifetime ago.

Once Lou was in the clear, I went to the studio with an urgency I had never before known as an artist. Durga was the first song we recorded, live with my band, in one take. The plan was to record new vocals later, but in the end we kept my scratch vocal, because it was so raw, so true. Listening back now, I hear so much in that-almost whisper. A woman spilling her guts, pushing through the darkness, climbing back up into the hard earned light.

It’s so hard to decipher / what is cruel and what is kind / I said, “Oh my love / I am like the Durga / what is love?”

Durga is my fight song. An omen, a friend. She’s intense! But I channeled her, not knowing I would need her soon after that magical night at the museum. “You have everything you need,” she seemed to say.

And in time, I believed her.

A still from the “Wolves” era 2016 (from the “Eden” video dir. by the amazing Rachel Fleit)

As I begin the process of making my next record, my first since 2016’s Wolves, I’ll be holding Durga close. It’s scary to reclaim a part of yourself. I look forward to sharing bits and pieces with you, alongside my writing, too. In the meantime, my three records (including 2009’s Alexa Wilding and 2012’s Coral Dust) are on Spotify and Bandcamp. I hope you will get (re)acquainted. I’m doing the same!

May we summon the support we need. Whether it be Durga, or whatever force comes knocking. Open the door; heed that unexplainable call.

You have everything you need.

xx Alexa

PS. Feel free to leave a snippet of your story in the comments. Perhaps a part of yourself you look forward to reconnecting with, or a time magical forces were at work.

DURGA

I went down, down, down to the bottom / Where there were people like you

I thought I belonged there / Oh yes, I thought it through

But up, up, up are the heavens / And I’m down, down, down here with you

You just sat at your easel / I did not know what to do

You said, “Oh, my love / You are like the Durga, what is love?”

Someone bring me some arrows / someone bring me a shell

I’ll make noise with my hammer / I’ll shake you from my spell

I’ll climb up, up, up, up the ladder / I’ll leave, leave all this behind

It’s so hard to decipher / what is cruel and what is kind

I’ll say, “Oh, my love / I am like the Durga, what is love?”

You’ll say, “Danger and desire / both are a fire.”

Yes, danger and desire / both are a fire.

(Oh, my love.)

{Alexa Wilding 2016 ASCAP/ White Witch Whispers}

On “Durga,” Tim Foljahn joins me on guitars; Jeremy Wilms on bass; Brian Kantor on drums. Produced by Tom Beaujour at Nuthouse Recording.