Adna Melan

Adna Melan opens up about “Lie”, a haunting and deeply personal song that transforms pain, vulnerability, and self-reflection into a powerful journey of healing, artistic truth, and emotional rebirth.

  1. “Lie”feels deeply introspective, almost like a confession wrapped in melody. What personal emotions or experiences inspired the creation of this song?

I think it’s intriguing that the lyrics of “Lie” came to my mind, and at that time, I hadn’t stopped to think about it or even noticed all those feelings. Some time after I wrote “Lie”, I had a deep relapse into depression, but it felt like something had started to change inside me. The lyrics talk about internal struggles and awful feelings like angst and blame, but it expresses a longing for release from all of these feelings, overcoming, healing. I’d say it was the beginning of realizing I didn’t want to convince myself I had to accept it all anymore, questioning things. And when I relapsed, I couldn’t avoid all these bad feelings, and I ended up facing my most serious suicide attempt. However, I consider this positive recognition essential back then, something that is related to a huge change in my life.

  1. Your music often balances vulnerability and strength. How do you find that equilibrium when transforming pain or inner conflict into art?

For me, it’s very important to create something true, so I’m very open in sharing vulnerability through my music, and the strength comes with it. Knowing yourself and how you’re feeling, and believing that you’re capable of overcoming it all, besides finding a way of turning a bad experience into something meaningful that maybe can resonate with other people is something really powerful.

  1. You’ve been a semifinalist twice in the International Songwriting Contest — how did that recognition shape your confidence and evolution as a songwriter?

It’s always good to get some recognition of this kind, but I think it’s really important to always try to evolve our abilities. A lot of confidence comes with experience. The more you practice, the better you get.

4. In “Lie”, the production feels cinematic and immersive. How involved were you in shaping the song’s sound and atmosphere during the recording and production process?

I was very involved from the beginning. I wrote the lyrics first, and a couple of months later I had some ideas for the harmony, then I started thinking about how I wanted the song to sound: the atmosphere in the beginning, the guitar emerging and disappearing when the vocals start on the pre-chorus, the backing vocals, etc. I started composing on the piano, and later on the guitar. Then I recorded a demo at home and sent it to my producer, who improved my arrangement and created other instrumental parts. From there, we worked together to finalize the track, shaping all the details and building the final version.

  1. You also direct and design your own visuals — from Melancholiato Lie. How does photography and visual storytelling influence the way you present your music?

Visuals are a strong way to convey a message. I think it’s an important part. It complements the song and the story behind it. I really enjoy the creative process and bringing ideas to life, and I think it’s a way to build a unique identity as an artist as well.

  1. Your eBook Roses and Melancholyexplores turning tragedy into poetry. Do you see “Lie”as a continuation of that same philosophy — and how do writing and music intertwine in your creative healing process?

Yes, I’d say it’s the philosophy behind everything I do: turning tragedy into some kind of art. Music and writing are very cathartic for me, they offer a way of trying to find some meaning in bad things that happen in life. Writing is a great way of processing feelings, achieving self-knowledge. After I found out about that, I never stopped writing, and I think turning it into music is something very powerful as well, a therapy. I mean, both creating and listening to other artists’ music. It’s about finding hope and strength to go on.

More Info: Singer-songwiter | Adna Melan