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A Mouth May Grow is the first full length album from red steppes. Helmed by songwriter and photographer Nika Aila States, recorded and mixed to tape at Tiny Telephone in Northern California, the songs are built from organic and felt performances, drawing their aesthetic language from the bounded period of long days and evenings in the studio, from the generous imitations of analog tape. Driving the album's musical exploration is a deep respect for folk music, age-old melodic traditions, and for the experimental and irreverent.

The songs saunter through mapped points on the Western coast of the US, explore growth and decay, and interrogate narrative tropes surrounding love, gender, and industry. Nika's wider artistic practice as a visual artist can't help but find its way into her musical work: a yearning for a sense of place, the positioning of botany and landscape as teacher and translator, and the pregnant silence of uninhabited places.

States currently lives in Brooklyn, where she is preparing her second full-length release, pursuing a Geography degree, and exploring a bridge between textile arts and photography.

a mouth may grow:
ashton / solemn bird / rampages eastward / bixby / i did not speak it / i do in the dark / what in bob's name / bodie / big desire / one for a second son / sibley
for once go taste your own strong salt
go touch the crowded tongues of mustard
go kiss the cormorant bones
but don't hold me; my hands can't offer help
Go find a frame where I am not the only thing
in which you see yourself

you wrap yourself up in that nice brown bag
You squint into that amber spyglass, and you spot steadier land
where I see stars above the softest marsh's mud
If you can stand there you'll be proud, but if you can't
what passing hand will pull you up?

Underneath the sacks of seed and bags of sallow hay
up comes the cattail reed
Up comes the bottom of the bay
Go sew your broken teeth between the rows of overwatered wheat
A mouth may grow, though the field lays fallow.

what billows at your front porch now?
If that's your white shirt on the fishing wire
I will not cut it down
I won't hold you - I cannot keep you still
The wind's been chewing and the sun's slight ribs
and now it's getting at you, too.

I Did Not Speak It


for all inquiries please write below

BOOKING: Native Cat Recordings [email]SYNC/LICENSING: Native Cat Recordings [email]PUBLICITY: Sierra Haager at Public Display PR: [email]

BOOKING: Native Cat Recordings
SYNC/LICENSING: Native Cat Recordings
PUBLICITY: Sierra Haager at Public Display PR:
BOOKING: Native Cat Recordings
SYNC/LICENSING: Native Cat Recordings
PUBLICITY: Sierra Haager at Public Display PR: