Since 2013, Nick Hakim has let the world in. Long and short songs, some simply vocalizations, others more lyrical. In all, like a yogi in Urdhva Hastasana, Nick stands rooted – extending the spine and reaching up – drawing out every inch of every song.
In 2019, I was introduced to Nick – the D.C. native – and singer who would change my world.
It was my junior year of high school – a time punctuated by anxiety, academia, and awakenings. That spring break, I cheated on Spanish with French by traveling to Quebec and Montreal with Monsieur’s class.
You might be thinking, Canada? I know, it’s not very exotic, and it’s not necessarily difficult. But going north was a dream that always felt unreachable, until suddenly it wasn’t. My family punched the numbers and figured out a way to pay for it. In retrospect, this trip solidified my adventurous spirit and love for new excursions.
The class traveled from Savannah to Atlanta via Hartsfield-Jackson, JFK, then Quebec International – the most cost effective route. Individually, Monsieur was frugal. He told us himself. And from observation, though he bounced when walking, he crunched just below 6 feet, rounded like Mr. Potato from Toy Story, and squeezed into a Kia Soul. It was impossible to miss him, yet he clenched and contracted to fit into affordable spaces. By choice or force? The world may never know, but his oversharing of stories revolving around being a recent divorcéeand feeling unappreciated in life may give us a clue. I was never in his class. [Again, Spanish was my calling.] But students and teachers talked about this. He had a reputation. Beyond murmurs and judgements, as someone on his trip, I tried to pair easy to his unpredictability.
Step One: Only bring a carry-on. Easy!
At the time, I was knee-deep in studying the occult, which left me a bit monastic and minimalist. To this day, packing light isn’t difficult.
Difficulty only arose, because I forgot travel entertainment. A simple book, song, movie – I didn’t bring or download. My fingers grew desperate and decided to ding every app on my phone. I suddenly came in contact with squares I never knew.
Podcast!
One morning in Quebec, I had enough time to connect to WiFi and maintain the signal. Our itinerary began soon, so I had to figure out something to download. Fast! At the time, NPR Tiny Desk regularly uploaded their YouTube performances to podcast platforms, and Nick Hakim’s Tiny Desk was one of them. I had no idea who he was, but he could save me from boredom! Download.
We were in Quebec for a day or two, visiting maple farms and Indigenous reservations – the latter being a personal highlight. On the way, I saw the quiet snow and wondered how our coach driver could handle the terrain. Then, I was 17 and had full-on panic attacks when driving. To know people managed buses… in the snow… paralyzed me.
Peeling away from these thoughts, I press play on Nick Hakim’s 2018 Tiny Desk. I had no visuals. Coming back to the US, I watched the video and was surprised to see a beautiful man wrapped up in his world and singing his way – out? In? Or provide an answer? Or simply seek and save the lost? Us commoners and laymen to his ethereal nature.
Three songs he sings. It lasts fourteen minutes and twenty seconds. I’m not even sure if he takes a break to introduce the band and songs. I think he forgets to. Maybe he’s scared to abandon the music or lose the songs, because he’ll have to find the emotional key again. That’s how intense and vulnerable his performance is.
For me, “Needy Bees” – the second song and my favorite of his – is the highlight. A biased take, but the right one. It is the epitome of Nick Hakim – sensual, otherworldly, and a hand guiding you in. At 17, it graduated my notion of infatuation into intimacy.
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