Caravãna Sun are a four-piece indie rock band from Sydney, Australia. With two full-lengths and an EP under their belts, Ant Beard (bass, vocals) here reflects on introspective songwriting.
In Caravãna Sun, we spent our adult lives touring our live show around Australia and Europe. With a prime focus of making people move, inside and out. Standing in front of a 6,000 strong crowd in the South of Germany, it can be a little intimidating having your next song be an emotional piano ballad that was written at 2:00 AM on your grandmothers piano. Yet there is a common thread that weaves through every moment. For me, that’s the ability to be vulnerable.
I grapple on a daily basis with my own vulnerability. I thought for a very long time that I had a genuine fear of confrontation when in actual fact, It’s fear of being vulnerable.
My relationship with music has seen many different turns. With the music business driving sales at the expense of art, we’re sold stories of unattainable achievement that form the pillars of constant unrealistic expectations. As artists are compared on social media, we all strive to feel some sort of self worth and belonging. Navigating these tumultuous times can be extremely isolating and have heavy impacts on people living through their honest expression. Yet that honest expression is the beating heart and emotional transaction we love and value.
As an artist and avid music lover, I’m always feeling for two things in a song. The creativity behind the craft and the person. I need to feel their honest truth. Because an honest truth is never right or wrong, it just is. As artists, I believe it’s our responsibility to reflect the times we live in by perceiving the world through our lens. Starting from a place of vulnerability allows our inner world to show its true colours and paint the canvas of truth. Even if that truth is hard for us to swallow or about pineapple belonging on pizza (it doesn’t), there is beauty in belief and a very human place inside of me that can relate to anyone speaking their truth.
Even as I write this, my anxiety spikes to protect myself from being too open when that’s the exact place I’m going to heal, grow and create engaging art.
I grapple on a daily basis with my own vulnerability. I thought for a very long time that I had a genuine fear of confrontation when in actual fact, it’s fear of being vulnerable. I’m not afraid of a loud voice or tense talk, I’m afraid of baring my honest truth. I’m afraid of backing myself because of my deep-rooted disbelief and low self-esteem. Even as I write this, my anxiety spikes to protect myself from being too open when that’s the exact place I’m going to heal, grow and create engaging art.
I choose vulnerability not because I want to, but because I have to. It can be uncomfortable and downright scary as shit but I know that in honouring vulnerability, you uncover the honest truth that is essential in moving others.
Don’t get me wrong, this world is hectic and can be utterly ruthless. When it comes to money, feelings fly straight out the window and rightfully so. I think it’s healthy to be able to wear different hats when juggling honest expression and business. Emotional manipulation, greed and entitlement can rip holes in self-worth and have longterm effects on our ability to stay open and honest. But this battle exists outside our comfort zone and is essential in finding your truth. Our responsibility lies with our loved ones to honour it and be the best version of ourselves.
At the core of it, I believe an ability to be wholeheartedly vulnerable in your art is profoundly powerful in conveying emotion and spreading the arms around communities that share the same values. Thus is, the power of a vulnerable heart.
