Alana Amore, An Expert In Making and Taking Up Space — What the FOLK is Up?
Alana Amore enthusiastically smiles at her electric while performing with other musicians.
Alana Amore knew that she wanted to be a musician before she even turned five. She reminisces on childhood memories watching her grandfather play music: “One day he was playing this keyboard, singing a random song and writing little jokes. I decided right then and there that that's what I wanted to do. I asked my mom for piano lessons, and she said it had to wait until I was five, so I waited.”
Fast forward to the present day: Amore is a senior at Berklee School of Music, well on the way to the fruition of her dreams.
Amore observes the trend of folk music acting as a vessel for activism to still be present today. “We still reach out for those songs,” she says. “They back our rallies as we teach the history of that time period.” Choruses of songs like “We Shall Overcome” offer simple mantras for people to latch onto, living on as the backbone for protests. Strong yet simple storytelling has always been characteristic to the genre, sharing messages in ways that are accessible for all people to understand. Amore “can't imagine that [folk songs] won't find themselves burrowed in what we're listening to now,” especially as more and more young musicians take it upon themselves to advocate for causes they believe in through their art.
Since simplicity is a distinguishing factor of folk music, Amore stresses that folk still isn’t “a genre that people think is very smart,” leading many people to underestimate the power of the music. The imperfections of the genre do not neatly fit into the mainstream, especially considering many folk artists are self-taught and do not write songs that follow traditional musical structure. Folk fosters a sense of individuality, the artists are able to "make it the way [they] want" and not fear that creative, open-ended approaches will oust it under the genre's umbrella."
Much has been done on the frontier of folk to address societal inequities that many communities face, but the genre is not as accessible and open-ended toward artists themselves as it should be. Representation in the folk scene was and still is extremely lacking. “Representation was very hard to find,” Amore says, “It has literally taken me 20 years to find people and things that look and sound like me within the industry as a whole.” Amore acknowledges that she is not the poster child of folk — “When you initially think of folk, you think of Woody Guthrie; a two chord song in a random tuning, out of time [...]. But it can get grittier than that, it can get dirtier than that, [it can sound] distorted and it can be sung by a woman.”
Amore responds to any opposition by making and taking up space. She proudly affirms her identity through her work, saying, “I work pretty independently and choose to spend my time and efforts in communities that reflect how I identify and I want to promote — that being people of color and women of color and non-binary people.”
In addition to carving out space for herself, Amore curated a literal space for women of color and non-binary people. In 2021, she founded an online music instruction platform called “Bipop,” tailored towards women of color and people of the non-binary community. All lessons are taught by women of color and members of the non-binary community — people “who have never really gotten the representation and community that they need within the industry.” The platform provides whatever teachers make themselves available, Amore explains, “If they're teaching songwriting, orchestration, or even recorder, we have those resources available to you.” Lessons are virtual and come at extremely low rates so that the platform will be able to serve a broader audience. Students at Bipop get to “learn in an environment that is safe for them and that is affordable and reflects how they identify.”
Amore sings peacefully amidst colorful, stringed lights and bare clothes hangers.
BIPOC artists are out there, Amore insists that we just might have to do a little more digging. Discovering artists is “almost being spoon fed [to us] at this point— you just have to nurture it and accept it and stop ignoring it.” Many people have trouble finding artists who look like them or who are doing something that reflects their culture and their heritage. Amore urges listeners to “create that space for yourself, because someone else is looking for that.” One single stream could help someone struggling to find people who look like them discover their new favorite artist.
Amore asserts, “it's important that at least one Black, queer woman in music becomes more than a vocalist and is someone who is regarded as a lyricist, someone who is regarded as a musician.” There needs to be more representation, and Amore is happy to offer her services to the cause, laughing as she says, “I'm not saying that I need to be the next guitar god, but it would be very cool if I was.”
Regardless of whether Amore is the next guitar god, she asserts, “If nothing else, I just hope that conversation creates a space for people who look like me to take over the world”— and what a beautiful world that will be.
One can keep up with all things Alana Amore by following her on Instagram, TikTok, and Twitter. And of course, by streaming her music on Bandcamp and Spotify.