Horns Of Hope

Aimee-Jo Benoit Horns Of Hope / When the world stopped, our family's identity was stripped away overnight, we were no longer who we thought we were. We embarked on a journey of wearing different skins, playing different roles, feeling generally out of place. These skins led me down a path I never thought possible, surrounded by warm hands, life and death. What began as a project with a vastly different direction, Horns of Hope was born out of a need for a simple, uncomplicated gathering of friends that materialised in eight beautiful, heartbreaking, and hopeful songs. There was a sense of urgency in comparison to BORJONER which took nearly a decade to complete. Horns of Hope happened in a period of months imagined in coffee shops and texts between myself and Carsten, it came to life in what seemed like only a few conversations. The title Horns of Hope was brought on when I was contemplating the philosophical phrase, the horns of the dilemma, which is the choice between two things, and neither of them are desirable. The pandemic felt this way to me, for I could choose myself and my own freedoms or rights, or I could choose the rights and freedoms of others, keeping myself secluded and masked. This made me hopeless for a time. However, Hope exists in duality, for we cannot be hopeful without the existence of struggle, pain, and loss. We must accept the duality of our existence, be present in it when possible, and listen for the signs. To be in society, we must see the dualities of light and dark, hope and fear. Why these songs? It's both uncomfortable and important for me to say that I had specific moments, people, and experiences attached to each song on this album. It's incredibly private and utterly public. I will most likely never mention to those people that it's about them, but they might infer it.