Quiet Light
Going Nowhere

Quiet Light leans against a wall

Quiet Light is Texan med student Riya Makesh, also a folk pop character. Borrowing the name from the second track off The National’s 2019 album I Am Easy To Find, Quiet Light (the artist) is guided by similar principles; the same nostalgia and emotional intimacy that informed the song. A project built upon lingering feelings, the past in its tangible forms, eternalised in the micro narratives shared in photos, videos and audio.

Makesh notes that her albums are always cumulative – never an abandonment of the past – which also feels impressive considering this is her fourth album as a twenty-something year old, with a full life outside of music, Going Nowhere builds upon past projects including Blue Angel Sparkling Silver, Fourth of July and I Love You Because You’re In Love With The World, all released in 2023. Self-taught over a three-month period of trialing Logic and with the help of friends along the way, Quiet Light feels more like a soundscaping project that places together noises that perfectly retell her life from a particular moment.

Much like her artist name, Going Nowhere has a beautiful glow around it. A soft halo of noise, round at the edges and gentle harmonies that ribbon behind each note. Makesh’s vocals are exactly as they should be – unassuming, candid and sweet in a way that feel more enriched in truth than it is naive. Tracks like ‘Blood Pours Like Wine’ and ‘Paloma’ feel happy-go-lucky – walkable, carelessly loving, romantic. 

What’s always a highlight in any Quiet Light album are the flickering moments where you hear the person behind the mic – it feels almost like her breath across your cheek. The wisps of an exchange in ‘Blood Pours Like Wine’ – or perhaps it’s a reading – the chuckle at the end of ‘Paloma’, the air blowing in ‘Luckiest Girl’  before a note is breathed into it, until the eventual diffused release.

Going Nowhere can be welcomed as a summer album – either for the future or retrospectively. It feels made to be listened to while planespotting, backs pressed to blades of grass or a walk with no immediate destination, but just because.

Words by Rhea Thomas