Millie Tizzard Is Being Genuine When Dealing With ‘Oblivion’
Naarm/Melbourne artist Millie Tizzard is giving us a timely reminder that we don’t have to “grin and bear it” when dealing with 2020. On her track Oblivion, she wants us to remember to be honest about how we’re feeling - even when society expects us to lie. I feel like I’ve spent a lot of this year telling people I’m coping with things a lot better than I am. The truth is, it’s been a hard year - and I’m someone who’s been able to largely shield themselves from the effects of the pandemic. I’m a writer, and I’ve been lucky to work at home with a girlfriend and a dog. My experience isn’t representative of the true effects of having to work through a pandemic, and yet, most people take their personal experiences as universal.
Oblivion’s strength is in its lyricism. It took me a couple of listens to truly understand the story of Oblivion. Initially, I was caught up in the soundscapes of the acoustic guitar. However, once I listened closer to the lyrics, Millie’s tale is one about how we expect those in the service industries to humour us when we talk about the pandemic. They’re hearing the same tired cliches and platitudes, and yet, they’re supposed to laugh and act like we’ve given them something revelatory to talk about. What’s actually being provided is another reminder that not everyone is in a position to truly self-isolate.
Normally I try and edit artist quotes for brevity - but I’m going to include Millie’s in its entirety, because much like the song, I am merely passing on its message. I think it’s much more important to hear from the source. “My plans had been dashed; my future on hold, the music industry unravelling, my hard won mental health was deteriorating again and my martial arts gym (a key factor in the maintenance of my mental and physical health) was closed with no reopening date in sight. Stage 4 was introduced and the shadow on Melbourne life continued, unabated.
“This song was written within the confines of one of the longest and strictest lockdowns in the world during the COVID-19 pandemic in Naarm/Melbourne. My brother (also housemate) and I have worked in the service industry during this time, and the “grin and bear it” mentality became overwhelming when repeatedly encountering the negligent public. I felt such powerlessness and despair while maintaining the superficial small talk and repeating the same hollow conversations from behind my mask - the cracks were starting to show.
“I wrote and recorded the song in my bedroom - having to make peace with my capabilities as an engineer, while also having the determination to rise above the hand that the pandemic has dealt has been a profound learning curve. A bedroom recording, a photo from 2019 by my dear friend, Max, and handwritten cover art in another time might have felt inadequate, but now symbolises acceptance and sincerity. I did the best I could, and I wouldn’t change a thing. “
Songs like Oblivion are proof that when people will try and claim that 2020 wasn’t as bad as it may have seemed at the time, they’re right. It was worse. It’s not taboo to acknowledge the effects that this year has had on people’s mental health. It’s also a perfectly reasonable viewpoint to believe that as much as the lockdown in Melbourne was completely necessary, it’s been hard on people - especially in customer-facing industries like Millie and her brother.
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Check out Oblivion below. It’s a song that is deceptively beautiful - listen closely to the lyrics, and you’ll get as true a picture of the effects of the pandemic on those living in Melbourne as you’re likely to experience. There’s a lot of people with vested interested in leading you to believe that things aren’t as bad as people are making out. Millie isn’t one of them. She wants people to understand that as much as those voices that shout the loudest aren’t necessarily those in the “firing line” of COVID-19. Instead, there are people that aren’t always being listened to that need to be heard.