In the summer of 2023, I stumbled into a little San Francisco bookstore, tucked neatly in between an Italian pizzeria and a tech startup (very San Francisco). As I was dreamily browsing through the shelves, I found myself holding a mysterious hard cover: no title, no author, just a woman covered in evening light, swimming in the ocean.
In a particularly fortunate twist of fate, the first thing that came to my mind in that moment was: “I’m a diver, watch me dive in.”
It was such a simple sentence, yet paired with the book cover in front of me, felt much deeper and all-encompassing, like it was holding a whole ocean of meaning and stories in that sentence (yes, all of the aquatic puns and connotations intended).
I went back home that night and kept thinking about the image, feeling like there was a song there, just a few ideas out of reach. I knew that if this was to be the chorus of my song, whatever came next needed to be the hook, a twist on the idea of diving.
I was sitting at my piano one day, sifting through options in my mind: diving into love, diving into dreams, diving into youth, diving into feelings. Wait, feelings? That’s it!! Diving into “seas full of feelings”. It was that very moment that guided the creation of the rest of the writing, the production and visuals for the song. Diving into the ocean would serve as a through-thread analogy of letting yourself feel.
Throughout the process, I kept finding myself coming back to that imagery, finding ways to incorporate water-themed words and sounds. In the lyrics of ‘Diver’, I had a little too much aquatic fun (ha!) and splashed in words (double ha!) like “swim”, “slip”, and “sink”. I locked myself into my bedroom slash home studio and the first ‘Diver’ demo came together within a single day:
I wanted the whole song to feel like a steady rise, as if you’re standing on the shore and watching the waves, waiting for one to wash over you. It would all culminate in a massive, sprawling bridge section that would feel as overwhelming as it does to truly embrace feeling every emotion. I knew this would be the first song for the ‘At the Bookstore’ project and I now had months to listen to it over and over again, obsessing over every little detail (the first demo was created in August 2023 and I knew the release date for the song would be in January 2024). I sent out my tracks to Chris Hill, Yoed Nir and Victor Balconi who recorded live drums, strings and bass for the song.
I kept thinking about it, dissecting the production in my head before falling asleep, feeling as if there were pieces missing. It came together too easily, too void of any challenges that would push me to learn something new. So I pulled a classic Anja move: I re-opened the production session and added tens of new tracks that would help complete the sonic landscape of ‘Diver’. I’m a huge believer that the most effective songs find a way to expand on the story described in the lyrics, growing and extending it into the production and sonic space of the track. In my very own attempt at this, I spent hours sitting at my computer and listening to hundreds of synths. I was looking for siren-esque, magical, ethereal mermaid sounds that couldn’t help but evoke images of water, of the sea.
I included this single note siren:
synths that to me sound like they’re taken directly out of Avatar (Way Of Water ofc):
and choirs of mermaids with their long hair gently floating through the ocean depths:
I even included ocean wave sounds I recorded on a trip to Carmel as riser effects in the song:
there’s also a kick drum that sounds like a heartbeat:
I also frantically messaged Victor and threw him a curveball by saying “hey, can you add some acoustic guitar to this?”. Within a couple of days, he came back with the most perfect tracks:
Puzzle piece by puzzle piece, the song started coming alive in its truest, fullest form. I added extra melodies and counter melodies to the climax bridge section, overlapping and drawing your attention from one instrument to another. There are over 50 choir vocal tracks alone, then there’s a long, soaring electric guitar melody, some eighth note spiccato violins and high piano octaves that remind me of Lady A’s “Need you Now”.
As I was wrapping it up, I slowly began to realize what the song is truly about: being human. There is nothing more quintessentially human than our ability to feel and process extremely complex emotions. It’s what makes us alive, what showcases the magic of our existence in all its remarkably simple, yet remarkably profound glory.