The rise of SIDNĒ and the death of L.A. Girlfriend

SIDNĒ — aka Sydney Banta, fka L.A. Girlfriend; press photo courtesy of the artist.

It was about seven years back when our Week in Pop offices discovered the Southern California cult outfit L.A. Girlfriend. An email from star photographer Edwina Hay alerted our west coast wing that a powerful presence was rising in the SoCal sub-sects of scenes, lead by frontwoman Sydney Banta. The EP was the after-school special spectacular Varsity that exhibited a prime time soap opera chic-core that pitted high emotive expectation against heartbreaking odds with an unabashed electric grandeur delivered with an Archie comics cadence of pop presentation. It was the follow-up to the debut album Viva, paving the way for the album Neon Grey, ambitious EPs like Regina, Rex, some perfect holiday pop gems and a countless array of singles. From this extensive oeuvre, Banta curated a creative catchy cache of earworms that could easily compliment an arsenal of binge worthy programming with motifs of complicated romantic entanglements and situations of unabashed sentimentality. The appeal of L.A. Girlfriend was that it was a cathartic ongoing pop opera of relatable paradigms that could be adapted for stage, screen, mobile devices and especially a proper choice stereo system.

With the release of the single and Brandon Riley Miller-directed video for “Is Freedom” — the Los Angeles artist formerly known as L.A. Girlfriend puts to rest her previous identity and signals the shining start of SIDNĒ. The message to fans about the news rang out in the following words posted to the socials:

L.A. Girlfriend was originally created as an aspirational figure to help me find myself. I started this project lost, with low self-esteem and a death-grip on a protective shell. I’ve always tried to blend in, yet recognized my unintentional ability to stand out. I’ve spent the past 9 years as L.A.G.F. in efforts to understand my unique formula, but in that time, I’ve also grown up.

It brings me great pride to say that L.A. Girlfriend has accomplished her mission. She took me on a very windy, exciting adventure full of victories, defeats, and moments to cherish forever. She showed me the world and the people in it who love, hurt, cry, and overcome, just like me. Most importantly, L.A. Girlfriend has brought me to this point where I can fully commit to who I want to be, as a person and an artist.

The time has come to put L.A. Girlfriend to rest, but I have no intention of ending my music career. In fact, I’ve decided to double down on my truth - the space-movie obsessed, Brie & white wine loving, charming yet dark-sided gal with almost 30 years of magnificent chaos backing her. Moving forward, I will be using my real name - pronounced “Syd-ney”, but spelled in a way that will look great on SNL and the Glastonbury bill. My final release as LAGF will be the music video for “Is Freedom” and all of my music + videos will continue to live on.

I sincerely thank you for the support over the years and I hope you’ll witness me in this next chapter. New eras are always scary, but I’m more excited than ever to have the freedom to be myself without hesitation and get back to performing the music I love to make. X

Thus the new journey begins. “Is Freedom” marks a new beginning in a world where anything is possible, where the ups, the downs, the heartaches, the triumphs, the breakthroughs and all the other roller-coaster upheavals of life will lead to newfound syntheses of expressions. The visual showcases Sydney through the lens of a vintage television tube where new narratives and fresh storylines are set to commence in the great wide open of infinite tomorrows. This is the curtain call for LAGF, with an invitation to witness what comes next in the universe according to SIDNĒ.

Sydney Banta recently penned an epitaph that closes the door of the former LAGF chapter, with hints at what’s next, opening the door for her new day dawning as SIDNĒ:

SIDNĒ — the artist formerly known as L.A. Girlfriend; via Instagram.

Right, Wrong, and Back Again

Humans really struggle with death, change, and the unknown. Yet to be a successful artist in this day and age, you have to embrace all three.

My favorite tarot card is the Death card, not because it’s dark or edgy, but because of the deeper meaning it signifies. This card is often associated with change, rebirth, releasing — from endings come beginnings, and in order to make room for something new, you must do away with something old. But it’s not necessarily about letting go either; it’s about transforming the past into something useful for the future.

I’ve spent the past 9 years performing and producing music under the name L.A. Girlfriend, like a costume of sorts to keep me safe from the truths about myself I wasn’t ready to confront. For a gal who didn’t feel beautiful, had a bunch of insecurities, and longed to know what love felt like, L.A. Girlfriend was my form of aspirational drag. Through her, I was confident, charming, powerful…everything I wanted to be in real life.

 L.A. Girlfriend was my way of experiencing a world that I always felt unworthy of. With every performance, I was granted the opportunity to feel a sense of belonging. It might be the reason why being on stage is the only place where I feel 100% like myself. And to have the chance to do it all in Los Angeles was beyond anything I could’ve imagined. I can understand now why an artist would want to try and fly in the City of Angels…

But for every moment where I felt like I could make it, there was an overwhelming feeling of not stacking up to your peers. No matter how well you are doing, there’s always another band or singer doing better than you. We’re not supposed to be competitive with our art, but we are. And if you’re not focused on the bigger picture, the envy, frustration, and sadness from it all can poison the reason why you became a musician in the first place.

I had developed volumes of self-defeating beliefs and lost my passion for music, as well as the vision I had for myself as an artist. In order to save myself, the only thing I could do was to change my entire life. I left the LA scene, fell in love, and quit my job to pursue a greater purpose beyond the 9-5, as every artist will eventually do. The L.A. Girlfriend costume I was wearing simply didn’t fit anymore. The idea of me being a promiscuous object for strangers to fawn over wasn’t matching up with the powerful urgency I felt in my heart. I didn’t want to be the girlfriend, I wanted to be the God.

To lose your North Star and question your entire identity is a moment in time where one of two things will happen - 1) You grab on to anything familiar, be it a past self, a job, an ex, etc, or 2) You be like Dave in 2001: Space Odyssey and fly your space pod into the unknown. I chose to be like Dave, which entailed a lot of angst, lashing out, sci-fi movie binges, and cheese consumption. But on the other side of all that mess was a person made of chaos, magic and all the things I loved and hated. It was a version of myself that felt right, unearthed from all of the bullshit I had buried it in from the entirety of my 20s (otherwise referred to as my second adolescence.) As L.A. Girlfriend represents a known dimension, SIDNĒ is the unknown, yet familiar realm of possibility, unbound by expectation. SIDNĒ, in a lot of ways, is where I was always meant to end up, but was too afraid to truly arrive.

Now at the dawn of 30, I’m embracing the notion that I’m right where I need to be, staring down the barrel of destiny. No one asked me to be a performer, but it’s a goddamn gift from somewhere other than here and gifts like that should never be ignored. I may have spent almost a decade building up a reputation with albums, videos, shows, and an international fan base, but what makes me most proud is the willingness to reinvent myself without fear — taking a sledge hammer to it all, without batting an eye. That my friend, is what I imagine to be a true and essential freedom.

To be creative is to embody death, change, and the unknown. And none of that should be feared. Every experience, creation, and idea brings us closer to a deeper truth, whether we like it or not. There’s no running away from SIDNĒ because it’s my given name. It may be spelled in a way that will look great on SNL and the Glastonbury bill, but at its core is everything I was trying to deny for a very long time, when I shouldn’t have. What is art if not a lifelong exercise in saving your soul from yourself?

Revisit the L.A. Girlfriend catalog via Spotify.