
Photograph by Mabel Suen
“I do remember being backstage at Carnegie Hall and experiencing, for the first time in my entire life, getting nervous before a performance,” says Syrhea Conaway, recalling the peak of her teenage years spent in chamber choir.
From the rock solid songcraft of Whoa Thunder to the glitchy chiptunes of 3 of 5, Conaway moonlights as a secret weapon in several St. Louis acts. Her vocals and keys even help lead the Pat Sajak Assassins, a band that has brought its own brand of colossal post-rock for more than a decade. Despite her ability to fit a mold of any shape or size, Conaway might be best known for Syna So Pro, which literally means SY-rhea Co-NA-way SO-lo PRO-ject.
“It seemed like once I started playing solo all those years later, I found myself getting nervous again. I realized that everything was on me and I didn't have the support system of other band mates,” she adds.
Conaway describes the early days of Syna So Pro as a recording project meant to salvage songs rejected by her own bands in the mid-2000s. As those groups dissolved, she became the solo act we know today—a one-woman tour de force that tap-dances on pedal boards while seemingly pulling guitar, keyboard, and violin from hammerspace. She spins these sounds into variable loops, using her singular voice as the glue that binds densely packed songs.
Nearly a decade into Syna So Pro and Conaway now finds herself shedding instruments for an a cappella album that spans the past 25 years of her musical life. On December 9, Vox will release on vinyl and CD through For Practically Everyone Records, a Chicago outfit known for its odd range of ethnic pop and off-kilter punk.
“I always do at least one a cappella song every single show because it's really important to me to remind the people that your voice is an instrument, too. And it doesn't have to be an instrument of just music, it's an instrument of anything you want it to be—of good or a force of evil. And people forget that,” Conaway adds.
From 2009's make two people happy to both volumes of Loop Talk, released in 2014 and 2015 respectively, Syna So Pro offers at least one a cappella song on every album. Her latest collects a bevy of vocal tracks ranging from Chinese folk songs learned in chamber choir to a piece Conaway made at 9 years old.
“I stumbled across my old compositions thought 'Damn, this is way better than anything I'm creating right now.' I felt like the stuff that I wrote back then just organically kept flowing and kept going and very rarely repeated a section,” Conaway says. She adds that “roughly half of the record was written at age 14 through 17, that terrible time.”
Vox was captured by engineer Ryan Lewis in Dogtown's R&R Music Labs and later mastered at Chicago Mastering Service. From spoken word cuts to smooth, rhythmic flows, Conaway painstakingly produced every layer, foregoing the use of any looping pedals in the studio.
“What I want people to take away from it was not only did I write this stuff when I was much, much younger, but despite opposition and the fear of being ousted, I continued to do what I did because that was who I was. I felt like, if I didn't do it, I would be denying myself exactly who I am,” she adds.
She has come full circle with her roots and the album itself contains yet another loop: The end of the last track connects with the opening cut, making for an in-joke that only plays when the album is heard on repeat.
“I think a lot of people are really truly afraid to express themselves freely. Afraid of the repercussions of either being judged by people they love or to be lashed out at or violently oppressed,” Conaway says. “People cannot take your voice away from you unless you allow them to.”
We sat down with Syrhea Conaway ahead of her release show for Vox to discuss the future, her set-up and the challenges of being a one-woman band.
If you would, walk us through the typical set-up for a Syna So Pro show.
A mixer, two pedal boards, nine pedals, one DI box, one rack unit, a keyboard, a guitar, a bass guitar, a violin and a microphone.
As a one-woman band, you're in charge of many tiny moving parts. How do you manage on-stage when something doesn't work the way that it should?
I'm always two steps ahead. I've been doing this long enough to know when something goes wrong, what needs to be done, or how the song can be saved. Sometimes it's not savable. Typically when the gear malfunctions (minor most of the time), I resort to an a cappella set— still entertaining, less juggling of instruments, easier for me, crowd-pleaser. There has been several occasions where songs had to be started over, not because of technical difficulties, but I made a mistake with a loop too early in a song and I couldn't stomach hearing the same mistake over and over and over again.
To that end, could you talk a more about the show where you met Matt Pakulski of For Practically Everyone?
Was playing a show in Chicago, a town where I seem to repeatedly play my personal worst show. After having some major signal malfunctions, I figured out the culprit was a 2-foot instrument cable going from the mixer to the pedal board. I had no spare cables other than a male 1/4" instrument to a female XLR adapter. I really had no choice but to forgo the full set, and reduce the performance to the a cappella set. Matt was in the audience, bought Loop Talk Vol. 1 and went his merry way. He later contacted me about joining the label. I was dumbfounded that he enjoyed the set so much as, for me, it was a horrible performance, but it doesn't mean it still wasn't entertaining.
Since you've been known as a multi-instrumentalist for most of your musical life, have you had any reservations about releasing an a cappella album?
I guess I've only recently been known as a multi-instrumentalist. For a very long time I was labeled as a bassist and nothing else. Not even a vocalist, (by even some of my former bandmates). But reservations? Yes. I remember the first SSP show, when I decided to do an a cappella song, I thought for sure the audience would use the time to get up and walk to the bar and socialize. The exact opposite happened. People came in to the venue side from the bar to see what was going on. I guess it was unique enough at the time to get people involved. As far as the record, still a bit nervous, but it's obviously not stopping me. This is a part of who I am. This is a part of what I can bring to a table. I think it's my way of working through residual labels from high school as being a choir nerd, and also not being culturally black enough with the style in which I use my voice. It's my way of my older self finally saying “It's ok, it's beautiful, it's who you are.”
Two of the songs on the album are traditional Chinese folk songs arranged by composer and violinist Chen Yi. Can you talk more on why you picked those pieces and what they mean to you?
In the high school choir, we performed a whole set of the Chinese Folk Songs arranged by Chen Yi. I fell in love with them (I think we all did). This was during the same time frame when I was writing some of the songs on the album. Also, they have become a crowd favorite when I perform, so it just seemed appropriate for them to be involved in the album in some sort of way. They are also on Loop Talk Vol. 1. Honestly, I've tried, several times, to shelve them. And they keep popping back up. When the crowd yells the titles of the folk song(s), sometimes you have to give them what they want.
In many ways, Vox seems to be a return to your roots as a musician. Now that you've come full circle, what's next for Syna So Pro?
I've got a lot of things planned. Some things I've been working on for seven years, some things that I've recently been inspired to create. What I will say is I'm ready to push myself more as a musician and artist and I'm excited about those challenges and the musical re-invention ride I'm set to embark on.
The release show for Syna So Pro's Vox happens at Foam, 3359 S. Jefferson Street, December 9. Doors open at 9 p.m., and admission is $5. More information and music can be found at Syna So Pro's Bandcamp page.