Genevieve Stokes’ Return to Self in ‘Hiding Places’
Stokes defies toxic positivity with newfound independence
Genevieve Stokes’ signature sound is beautifully spooky, nostalgic and earnest. Hiding Places is Stokes’ first independent album release, and holds a mirror to our internal darkness defying societal pressures for toxic positivity that refuses to let us heal. If you slow down to feel, you’ll drown. Stokes shared on Instagram that the album was made in the aftermath of being dropped from her label.
The first track “Never in Love” lures you into Stokes’ eerie world like a sailor to a siren. Stuck, haunted and underwater, she layers crisp vocal harmonies over sharp strings driven by a creaky piano. Minor chords loop while she pleads, “I’m never in love / can you help me? I’m never enough” creating a perpetual sense of unease. The acapella at the end puts the listener under her bonechilling spell for the rest of the album.
The second track, “Altar” picks up the pace with repetitive piano chords as Stokes shows us her harsh reality of daily shame, feeling frozen and doubt in a world that doesn’t stop moving. A particular line that set my insides ablaze at first listen through is “I couldn’t watch her suffer, I know I should’ve called her, I’m sorry I chose to hide.” This track struck me the hardest, capturing a feeling of shame.
The next track “You See Me” waltzes the listener through the sad dance of relying on external validation for fulfillment. All she wants is to feel seen, but gets by on escapism from her hauntings and duplicating life’s happiest highlights. (It reminds me of life on social media…)
Track four, “Medicine,” takes a U-turn to a happy, upbeat tempo prescribing the listener with a quick fix to all their worries. Playing with the tune of A Spoonful of Sugar from Mary Poppins, “Medicine” numbs the pain from feeling anything at all since feeling seen isn’t an option. She sinks into exactly how people expect women to remain: “amused and so youthful,” burdened by the past.
In “Charming,” Stokes takes her power back, protecting her heart from inevitably breaking. She anticipates someone’s unrealistic view of her, yet still wants to know if they feel her. Her heart can’t support another’s because it’s fighting for herself, yet is expected to never rock the boat. She feels an imbalance of love with an anxious attachment style.
The sixth track, “Lifeline,” is about how someone who claims to be a lifeline stops supporting when she isn’t becoming what they want her to be. My heart breaks for her when she sings “changing your mind, now your lifeline’s loosening.” She doesn’t want to disappoint them in addition to herself.
Poltergeist explores what it means to exist only as someone else’s idea of you, and the moment you decide you want yourself back. She struggles with mourning the fake perception because it brought her to the other person. At the end she asks, “For crying out loud, did you ever see me at all?” revealing even after reclaiming herself, she aches to know whether she was truly ever seen. The need for validation stays, even when it no longer matters. I relate to this deeply.
In Moon Walker, she takes the path we inevitably must face: hope. She realizes she once wanted the chase, but not anymore, as she sings “what I wanted and what I want is not the same.” In the end, she believes we’re braver for allowing ourselves to feel each other’s pain. Real change comes from not avoiding suffering, but healing through feeling it.
This album felt like it was written for me to hear at this exact moment in time. Navigating life with hope while simultaneously feeling the pain of the world can be exhausting. Sometimes our broken world feels so overwhelming it’s hard to imagine healing. Stokes just showed us how.