Big O
Big O Artist Big O’s new single, “Sounds of Broken Pieces,” marks a bold chapter — an experimental instrumental hip hop track crafted from inventive sound design, unique textures, and a fearless pursuit of originality. 1. Your new single “Sounds of Broken Pieces” is an instrumental hip hop track. Can you tell us how this piece came to life and what sparked the initial idea? This piece came together from my desire to try something different. “Sounds of Broken Pieces” relies heavily on sound design, synths, and originality. These elements that really push me outside my usual creative comfort zone. 2. You mentioned wanting to make something “original and out of the ordinary.” What steps did you take in the production or composition process to achieve that uniqueness? For this track in particular, I experimented by using broken pieces of glass and buttons inside a bucket, sampling those sounds to create unique background textures. Across the entire album, my focus was on exploring different subgenres and sonic textures through sound design. 3. As an instrumental artist, how do you express emotion and narrative without lyrics? What feelings or imagery do you hope listeners experience while hearing this track? For me, the music I create acts as a soundtrack to my inner thoughts, distant memories, and imagination. When I make music, it’s primarily for myself, a personal journey, but when others connect with it and find something they love, that’s when it feels complete. 4. How does “Sounds of Broken Pieces” differ from your previous work, both sonically and creatively? As I mentioned earlier, this song thrives on its originality and experimental approach. There’s nothing like it in my discography. 5. The title itself is quite evocative — “Sounds of Broken Pieces.” Does it represent something personal, or is it more of a conceptual artistic choice? The title “Sounds of Broken Pieces” came naturally. Once I finished the track and listened back, that’s exactly what it sounded like to me. 6. Looking ahead, do you see this single as a new direction for your music, or more as a one-off experiment in pushing your sound’s boundaries? This track marks a new direction and a new era for me, not just sonically but creatively. With this album, I made a vow to challenge myself and step into unfamiliar territory and I truly feel like I’ve achieved that. https://linktr.ee/bigrodamous
RedLight
RedLight After nearly two decades of blending grunge, punk, and electronic chaos, Marseille’s RedLight return with HomeWorks — a raw, self-produced album capturing freedom, emotion, and their unmistakable sonic identity. 1. RedLight has been around since 2007, blending influences from Pearl Jam to The Prodigy. How did these different styles come together to shape your signature sound? From the start, we never wanted to fit into one box. Each of us came with different backgrounds — some grunge, some electronic, some punk — and instead of choosing one path, we just let it all collide. We spent years just listening — obsessively — to everything we could get our hands on: blues, hip hop, new wave, indie, grunge, metal… all of it. Those years shaped our ears and our instincts. When we started writing together, all those sounds naturally blended into something that felt honest and alive. That tension between raw guitars and synthetic textures became our signature. The energy of Pearl Jam meets the chaos of The Prodigy — it’s emotional, but it also hits you in the gut. 2. Your new album “HomeWorks” was recorded and mixed entirely in your home studio by Dapé. How did the DIY approach influence the final sound and energy of the record? Recording HomeWorks at home changed everything. There was no clock ticking, no pressure to sound “radio-ready.” It gave us freedom — to make mistakes, to experiment, to push each sound until it felt alive. We love to start by working on lots of demos, exploring ideas without limits, and then taking the time to choose the ones that truly fit together — the ones that create a sense of unity across the album. Over the years, Dapé’s work on recording and mixing has sharpened a lot; his experience now gives us even more freedom to focus on emotion and atmosphere rather than technical constraints. He knows how to capture our energy without polishing it too much — keeping that raw edge that makes HomeWorks feel real and human. 3. Looking back at your first album “Crash System Control,” how would you say your music and message have evolved over the years? Crash System Control was kind of an accident — it came out of nowhere. We were just messing around with a few songs and demos at home, experimenting with early computer-based recording. We got caught up in the process and decided to take it all the way, putting together ten tracks that were completely different from one another — all DIY, all home studio. The common thread was the voice, which tied everything together. Since then, we’ve kept exploring across styles depending on the time and the mood of each period. For the new album, we wanted ten songs carried by melody and guitar — something cohesive, direct, and easy to bring to the stage. 4. Marseille has a vibrant and diverse music scene. How does your hometown inspire or influence RedLight’s creative identity? Marseille is chaos and beauty side by side — that’s exactly what we sound like. The city’s mix of cultures, languages, and energy seeps into everything we do. There’s no pretending here; people feel things deeply and say it straight. That honesty, that grit, is in our DNA. 5. “HomeWorks” will be released on March 14, 2025. What themes or stories can listeners expect from this album? HomeWorks is about connection — with ourselves, with others, with the spaces we live in. It’s about isolation and rediscovery. Each track explores a different facet of what “home” means: sometimes comfort, sometimes prison, sometimes rebirth. The album touches on many themes — the passing of time, nostalgia, how love and relationships evolve over the years, but also darker subjects like schizophrenia and inner duality. Musically, it moves between darkness and light, between strength and fragility — like finding your way through static, searching for a signal that feels true. 6. You’re offering the album for free on Bandcamp — that’s a bold move in today’s music landscape. What does this say about your connection with your fans and your view of music distribution today? For us, music was never about money — it’s about impact. The industry changes, but the connection stays the same. Releasing HomeWorks for free is our way of saying “thank you” to the people who’ve been with us since day one, and an open invitation to new listeners. All of our discography is available for free download on Bandcamp, and we also have a few CDs for those who still like to hold something physical. The idea is simple: there should be no barriers to listening to what we create. If our music resonates, that’s the real reward. Freedom and sharing — that’s what keeps it real. More Info: https://www.facebook.com/OfficialRedLight
Shadow Person
Shadow Person Shadow Person dives deep into the psyche — blending humor, honesty, and introspection. In this interview, the artist unpacks Chronic Disappointment, exploring identity, creativity, and the shadows that shape their sound. 1. Shadow Person is such a fascinating concept — part alter-ego, part mirror of the subconscious. What originally inspired you to create this persona, and how does it allow you to express something different from your past musical projects?I earned my bachelor’s degree in psychology, and I did a lot of Jungian studies during that time in college. So, the concepts of the shadow self and individuation have always fascinated me. I’m also married to a therapist, and she consistently challenges me to look inward and confront some of the hidden and shadow elements of myself that may have been holding me back in my life. A lot of that process has gone into this persona, as well as into many of the themes in the songs that I write. 2. Your latest album, Chronic Disappointment, feels layered with social commentary and introspection. What personal or cultural moments pushed you toward the themes explored in this record?Some introspection led me to realize that as I grow older, I have a lot of unfinished business. You can hear that in some of my songs, including “Actual Bruh” on this album, in which I deliver a message to my brother about how the way showed up in the world, and in our relationship, impacted me. These are deep issues that he and I would probably never discuss in real life since we don’t really have a relationship, but it really helped me to get them out, to verbalize them, and to bring them out with such a deep and dark sound in the song, because that’s the way they make me feel. 3. You’ve mentioned the influence of artists like Cake, Grandaddy, and Slint — all known for their distinct sonic identities. How did their sounds or philosophies find their way into your creative process on this album?Not only do I love the music that these bands have created, but the production styles were also fascinating to me. I really strive to make it so that you can hear each and every drum, each and every instrument, and each and every component that goes into a song individually. I also like how that clarity is often decorated with futurism, especially when it comes to granddaddy, where you have a guy singing with a piano, but there are all sorts of fantastic sounds going on in the background. I like to let some of that come through in my music as well. And with Cake, they also have that awesome production style I strive for, but they’re often tongue-in-cheek with their lyrics. You can often interpret their words or lines in multiple ways, and I think that influences a lot of how I write my songs. 4. The songs “I Swear It’s Not Cake” and “Canned Laughter” both use humor and storytelling to touch on deeper truths. Can you walk us through how those tracks came together and what they represent to you? I Swear It’s Not Cake is based on the TV show Is It Cake? It uses that show as a platform for commentary on reality television and the fakeness that a lot of our current media and culture are focused on. You could point this at any reality TV show out there and it would apply, from Love Island to The Bachelor to any of the Real Housewife shows. It’s fascinating to me that people get so caught up in these reality TV shows that are scripted and crafted with complete fakeness behind them, but we all know that it’s fake, yet we choose to ignore it. It’s kind of like pro wrestling. I guess pro wrestling was the original reality TV show in a way. Not only that, but it also kind of sounds like the band Cake on purpose, with that vibra-slap sound and some of the guitar lines I put in there. Trying to make the listener think about whether or not the title refers to the TV show, the band, or something else. The song Canned Laughter was inspired by a line from Bob Dylan’s song, A Hard Rain Is Gonna Fall: “I heard the sound of a clown who was crying in the alley.” That line always seemed really rich to me, as the whole song does, really, but I decided to write a song about that clown, and that’s what this is. It’s the clown who got fired because he wasn’t funny anymore. 5. Recording at Hawk’s Nest Studio in Asheville must have been meaningful, especially since you handled all the instrumentation and production yourself. What did working solo in that environment teach you about your own artistry?For many years, I was in bands and recorded with them in various studios and in various settings with other people doing a lot of the production. But I’ve always had a notion in my head that there was a way I wanted to hear it come out, and I never really had that opportunity. Now, with Shadow Person, I have been able to focus on what I hear in my head, and making that exact thing come out. It may sound a little selfish or egotistical, but music, to me, is much more satisfying to make and put out there when I am able to take the time and have it sound the way I hear it in my head, exactly. Not that I don’t like making music with other people, because I absolutely do, rather, I can now focus on *my* music instead of someone else’s. I’ve had to do a lot of learning about production techniques and mixing and recording techniques and various microphones and whatnot, but it’s been fun and challenging. And it’s still an ever-evolving process, but it’s finally getting to the point where I feel like I
Taylor Janney Rovin
Taylor Janney Rovin After nearly a decade away from music, singer-songwriter Taylor Janney Rovin returns with renewed confidence and creativity. We discussed her comeback single “Sweet Talkin’,” musical inspirations, and artistic rebirth. 1. “Sweet Talkin’” marks your second single after a long hiatus from music. How did it feel stepping back into the studio after nearly a decade away from singing?It is so lovely to be finding my confidence and reengaging my creativity in my 30s, as I’m finally giving myself the freedom to just have FUN while making music! Having attended a competitive, conservatory style college program, I became overwhelmed by what other people defined as “success.” I didn’t feel as though I “fit” into the boxes many of my professors would try to squeeze me into, and I never seemed to have the same opportunities to shine as my peers. When I moved to New York after graduation, utterly broke and facing the harsh realities of adulthood, I had to focus first on survival. Working as a middle school teacher, I at times thought putting a pause on my dreams made me a “failure.” Now that I’ve had a decade to “grow up,” I realize that the journey isn’t linear – my unique life experiences have collectively gotten me here, and I am appreciative of the opportunity I now have to invest in myself as an artist. I’m learning to enjoy the process rather than try and force any particular pathway or product. 2. You’ve mentioned that “Sweet Talkin’” was inspired by the music of the late ’90s and early 2000s. What drew you to revisit that era, and how did you blend that nostalgia with a modern sound?At this stage of my development, I’m looking back on the last times I felt JOY when singing. As a kid, I had no fear of judgement, no inhibition. Once I got to the collegiate level, there was so much pressure, I became riddled with anxiety around my voice and performance. But when I was little, I’d belt along to every song on the radio, convinced I’d be the 6th Spice Girl. I racked up the family phone bill voting for Kelly Clarkson on American Idol, saw The Chicks and Shania Twain as my first concerts – strong female vocalists of this era really shaped the way I heard and appreciated music. Now that I’m giving myself time and space to reconnect with my voice, I can’t help but look back towards the artists who really taught me to sing. With that being said, I am ultimately my own person, so while I draw inspiration from the past, I’m bringing my own flair to create my own formula. 3. The song captures that irresistible pull of someone’s charm — even when you know better. Was this written from a specific personal experience, or more as a reflection of a broader theme in your life?“Sweet Talkin’” was definitely inspired by a specific someone, though truthfully it could apply to several of my exes. I’m happily married these days, but I had the worst taste in men in my 20s. Despite a handful of heartbreaks, I still managed to have some fun. Gives me a lot to write about at least! 4. You worked with Douglas Widick at Suite Tea Studios in Brooklyn to bring this track to life. What was that collaboration like, and how did the track evolve from your original idea to the final version we hear today?Douglas is such a creative musician, producer, and comedian – talk about making music FUN! I’m just learning guitar, so seeing what began as three chords and a voice memo evolve into a full track was really cool to witness. He helped bring out that funky, early-aughts energy in a way I never could have imagined just strumming solo in my apartment. When I play this alone on acoustic, it might as well be a country song! 5. Overcoming a vocal injury and returning to music is a deeply personal journey. How has that experience shaped the way you approach your artistry and performance now?There was a time in my life I thought I may never sing again. Now, each time I do, it feels like a blessing. I’ve learned to appreciate my voice as the unique gift that it is and have stopped trying to sound like everybody else. Pushing, straining, and reaching for notes far outside of my range was what hurt me – embracing the warmth, soul, and richness that I do bring to the table allows me much greater ease (both vocally and spiritually)! 6. Looking ahead, what can listeners expect next from you — any upcoming releases or performances that continue this chapter of rediscovery and growth?I’m currently recording my next single, which is a neo-soul / rodeo themed tune. My biggest goal at the moment is to play more live shows here in NYC – be sure to give me a follow (@taylorjanneyrovin on Instagram) so you can come sing along at my next performance! More Info: https://www.taylorjanneyrovin.com/
Amelina
Amelina In this lively chat, Amelina reveals the rebellious spirit behind ‘A New Year’s Wish,’ blending pop-rock energy, nostalgic influences, and empowering messages to make this holiday season truly unforgettable. 1.“A New Year’s Wish” isn’t your typical holiday song — it’s got this powerful pop-rock edge. What inspired you to take a more anthemic, rebellious approach to a season usually filled with soft carols and cozy vibes? The idea came from one little joke: “Dear Santa, I’ve been a good girl all year, please grant me my deepest wish – I want to be bad!”I wanted to show that being a good, obedient girl carries a certain rebelliousness within. The New Year is a great opportunity to change something in your life. To become less awkward, to allow yourself to do what you want, not what’s expected of you. If this becomes a teenage anthem of readiness for something new – that would be great! 2. You’ve described the song as “like fireworks — it starts quiet, then bursts into color.” Can you walk us through how that idea shaped the song’s sound and emotional journey? Yes, it’s built on the contrast between the “calm girl” carefully writing a letter to Santa Claus, openly expressing her emotions and childish joy in the run-up to Christmas, and the same “rebellious girl” saying, “Now I want a real holiday!” 3. The track carries the spirit of early Avril Lavigne with a modern twist.Who were your biggest musical or emotional influences when creating this song, and how did you blend nostalgia with your own voice? The funniest (or most embarrassing?) thing is that I used to be told I looked like Hannah Montana (not Miley Cyrus, but Hannah) and Avril Lavigne—and I discovered their music later, after “Step by Step,” “Roblox Realms,” and “A New Year’s Wish.” I listen to a ton of stuff. I love Cher, Sia, Shakira, and rock. I think it’s important that we’re a pretty musical family, and my father wrote songs, sang, and played in a rock band back in his student days… When melodic rock and a girl’s voice come together, it probably works out pretty well, right? 4. Lyrically, “A New Year’s Wish” feels empowering — a kind of reset anthem for dreamers and rebels. What message do you hope listeners take with them as they step into the new year? “Don’t be afraid of yourself! Don’t hold yourself back! A free person doing what brings them joy is capable of so much!” Do things not because you have to, but because you want to! 5. The production has this bright, cinematic energy — almost like a movie moment.What was the recording process like? Any memorable moments in the studio that brought the song to life? It’s funny you even asked that. We started working on this song around March 2025. I wanted to put as much emotion into it as possible. My theater classes help me with that, of course. And my vocal coach. Yes, I know my English isn’t perfect there anyway (after all, “nobody’s perfect,” right? 🙂 ), but I’m trying. And I came to the studio (it’s a small home studio) in the summer already fully prepared. That’s why we managed to record the song very quickly. Really quickly. We only had an hour and a half that day, and we managed to record four songs. I have some videos from the recording process. These photos, by the way, were taken right then in the studio. The studio is so small that videos can only be made in profile.6. The holidays can be both magical and reflective.How do you personally connect to this season, and how does that emotional mix show up in “A New Year’s Wish”? You know, I’ve been living in Mediterranean countries since 2022 (first Turkey, then Spain since 2023). This will be my fourth New Year without snow. I really dream of being in a snowy fairy tale again! More Infos: https://www.amelina.me/
Bastien Pons
Bastien Pons Blurring the lines between sound and image, Bastien Pons transforms listening into spatial experience. With Blinded, he builds sonic architecture from silence, texture, and emotion — like slow-moving black-and-white photographs. 1. Sound & photography — how do they influence each other? For me, sound and photography share the same raw material: texture, contrast, and silence. In photography, I work in black and white — stripping away distractions, focusing on grain, shadow, and absence. In sound, I do the same. Blinded is not just composed, it’s framed. Each piece is like a photograph that moves very slowly, where silence works as the negative space, and noise becomes the grain. 2. Blinded feels like an installation, not a traditional album. What was your vision? I didn’t want to make a collection of songs; I wanted to build a space. From the beginning, the idea was to create something immersive, closer to an installation you step into. Each track is less a “song” than a room — a sonic architecture where you can wander, sit still, or even get lost. 3. Translating heavy themes like Babi Yar or Charlotte into sound without words When I work with historical or tragic themes, I avoid literal storytelling. Instead, I focus on atmosphere, rhythm, and the physical weight of sound. For Babi Yar, I wanted the music to feel oppressive, almost suffocating. For Charlotte, the sounds of protests and human voices are not background — they are the story itself, raw and unpolished. It’s about letting reality seep through the composition rather than narrating it. 4. Silence and texture as compositional tools Silence is not the absence of sound; it’s a presence. Sometimes it carries more tension than any drone or note. I treat silence like an instrument, deciding where it breathes, where it cuts, where it forces the listener to confront themselves. Texture then becomes the counterpart — the way a photograph might let the grain dominate the image. Together, they shape the emotional gravity of the piece. 5. Influences: Lustmord, Coil, Swans… and beyond I listen to absolutely every style of music — from classical to musique concrète, from the most experimental jazz to electronic. Lustmord taught me about vastness — how sound can become an environment. Coil showed me the power of ambiguity and transformation. Swans revealed how repetition and sheer weight can break you open emotionally. But I’m just as inspired by The Residents, by darker industrial pioneers like SPK, by the surreal collages of Nurse With Wound, or the intensity of 2kilos & More. These artists all expand the idea of what sound can do. I don’t try to replicate them — instead, I filter these lessons through my own practice, closer to photography and concrete sound, to shape something personal, fragile, and direct. 6. What do you hope listeners take away? I don’t want listeners to “consume” Blinded as background music. I hope they inhabit it — like entering a dark room where your senses adapt slowly. Maybe they’ll feel unease, maybe calm, maybe both at once. The best outcome for me is if the album slows someone down, forcing them to sit with sound, silence, and themselves in a way they don’t usually do. Bastien Pons
Max Marginal
Max Marginal Algerian artist Max Marginal reflects on belonging and time in Home Ain’t on the Map, blending cinematic folk-rock with introspection, solitude, and the golden light of his homeland. 1. Your new work, “Home Ain’t on the Map,” carries a deep sense of displacement and introspection. How do you personally define the idea of “home” today, both as an artist and as an individual? For me, “home” isn’t a physical place anymore. It’s more like a feeling that lives in time or maybe between times. I think I lost my sense of home when I realized that some places and eras stay behind us forever. This song came from that rupture, that awareness that we keep moving forward even when we don’t know where we belong. 2. You’ve transitioned from technical death metal to a more cinematic, introspective folk-rock sound. What did this shift allow you to express that your earlier style couldn’t? Metal taught me structure and intensity, but I needed more emotion more silence, more space. My current sound allows me to express vulnerability, melancholy, and reflection in a way that distortion and speed never could. It’s about letting emotions breathe instead of fighting them. 3. Your music often feels like a journey through solitude and time. Do you see your compositions as a form of self-exploration or as stories meant to resonate universally with listeners? I think it’s both. I write to understand myself first, but I believe every listener finds their own reflection in those spaces. If someone listens and feels a part of their own story in it, then it becomesuniversal without even trying. 4. Being an Algerian artist creating such atmospheric and emotion-driven music, how do your roots and surroundings influence the textures and moods you build in your songs? Algeria has a very particular light soft, golden, and endless. The landscapes, the horizon, the contrast between silence and life all of that shapes the way I write. Even if my music sounds Western, the warmth and colors of where I come from always find their way in. 5. When crafting instrumental or minimalist pieces, how do you decide what emotions or stories each guitar tone should carry? I listen more than I play. Each tone has its own emotion hidden in it. Sometimes I just follow where the sound wants to go a single note can carry more meaning than words if you let it speak. 6. You mentioned new collaborations and instrumental projects ahead—can you give us a glimpse into what sonic or emotional directions you’re planning to explore next? I’m currently working on my next EP, which will explore solitude, time, and the idea of rebirth. It’s more atmospheric but still grounded in storytelling. Each track will be like a fragment of memory fragile but alive. More Infos: Max Marginal (@max.marginal) • Photos et vidéos Instagram
Marla Moya
Marla Moya Berlin-based artist Marla Moya unveils “Shedding Skin”, a fearless anthem of renewal and courage. Blending soft rock, psychedelic pop, and raw emotion, she transforms fear into strength and self-discovery. 1. Marla, “Shedding Skin” is your second single and a preview of your upcoming debut album. How does this song represent where you are right now, both musically and personally? “Shedding Skin” was written weeks after I made the most drastic choice in my life. I had left my duo and relationship of seven years and moved to Berlin within days after having spent most of those years in Canada. Suddenly, I found myself starting over at 27 — feeling like I had nothing, including a huge lack of self-confidence. But I felt deep down, this relationship with all its surrounding circumstances was no longer fulfilling and there was happiness to be found back home in Germany! The song reflects that duality: fear and hope coexisting. Musically, it still carries my most natural approach — being open and vulnerable. However, as I now stand independently on my own two feet, I want to carry that strength to the outside and transmit confidence in moving forward. 2. The title itself, “Shedding Skin,” evokes transformation and renewal. Can you share how this theme emerged and what it meant to you while writing the song? I remember sitting in a friend’s apartment on this really dark winter night, in between temporary places to stay. The first two weeks in Berlin I spent rather isolated, digesting the choice I made and acknowledging the feeling of emptiness – until I decided to turn my days around, grow a thick skin and introduce myself in the city, the folk scene and my new dream job. The words came to me as I played the chords rather than looking for them. It was one of those songs that immediately felt like it’s in its place. I even immediately liked it myself, a very rare thing to happen. Mixed feelings of discomfort, liberation of letting go of an old life, and stepping into something new, even when it feels raw and uncertain. The upbeat energy of the song hides a lot of fear, but it also celebrates courage — the kind you find when you have no choice but to move forward. 3. You’ve described the track as a bridge between soft rock, psychedelic pop, and singer-songwriter styles. How do you balance these influences while keeping your sound authentic and cohesive? For me, authenticity always starts with the song itself — with a guitar and a voice. The root of my songs will probably always identify best under singer-songwriter. However, I didn’t want to be the gal with the guitar and a suitcase full of sad songs anymore. Quite the opposite really, I’ve always wanted to have a band and create sound as a union, rather than having all the attention on me. The padding piano throughout the song musically underlines that driving force that was cooking up in me when I wrote it. That probably steers the song towards pop, though that genius riff on the hammond organ Robert Francis came up with drags it into something complexed than that, psychedelic in a way of bending the initially expected.I’m not a great guitar player, far from that. A big part in my writing is stumbling over chords and not knowing what they are and whether they’d fit in the key or not. What does that matter though, when to me it sounds right. My love for soft rock finally found a place in my new found sound. 4. You mention that the song was born out of a process of healing and self-expression. What role does songwriting play for you in processing fear, pain, or change? Songwriting has always been my way of understanding myself better. I’m one to throw myself at life to avoid reflecting my feelings. Songwriting forces me to face my thoughts and eventually expressing them, not only as I sing them out loud, but shifting from my room to the outside world, as I notice myself getting over the heaviness they had when they were written. In moments of fear or loss I reach to grab the guitar more than ever. Playing gives me shelter, allows me to feel. Sometimes, a melody to hold onto when everything else feels unstable is quite the saving grace. With “Shedding Skin,” singing about my fear of change actually turned into a form of empowerment. Every time I played it, I felt stronger, like I was rehearsing my own courage. 5. Listeners have compared your sound to artists like Stevie Nicks and Weyes Blood. Are there particular eras, artists, or sounds that deeply shaped your creative identity? That’s a huge compliment — I love both of them. In 2014 I actually got to open for Weyes Blood in my hometown. She performed herself with a looping station. While the room seemed to have a hard time understanding what they were hearing and seeing, I felt like I was her mermaid pal and we’re two best friends swimming through the darkest of oceans. Very ethereal, dreamy and – different. She also shifted away from that into a very upbeat sound, speaking about heavy things in a casual lightness that makes her emotions approachable for anyone. She’s been a big influence, not gonna lie! I’ve always been drawn to artists who manage to be ethereal yet grounded — Aldous Harding, Angel Olsen, Jessica Pratt, … However, the music I listen to most was written between the 50’s and 70’s. Everything from Sam Cooke to Neil Young, Floyd & Beatles. 6. With “Shedding Skin” available on all streaming platforms and physical formats soon, what do you hope listeners take away from the experience when they hear this song for the first time? First of all, I hope it makes them want to sing and dance. I hope it encourages people to make the change they’ve been fearing to
Adna Melan
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. 2. 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. 3. 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. 5. 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. 6. 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
Alex Kate
Alex Kate Through her haunting new single “Maybe God is Everywhere,” Alex Kate explores faith, duality, and empathy amid global conflict, blending emotional honesty with cinematic soundscapes that invite deep reflection. 1. Alex, “Maybe God is Everywhere” feels deeply personal and globally relevant at the same time. Can you tell us how your experiences in the US and Israel shaped the emotional core of this song? My time in both the US before the elections and then on October 7th 2023 in Israel definitely influenced the emotional core of the song. So much pain in the world is caused in the name of God and it is devastating. I also recognise that I have friends on both sides of the political fence and need to be open to different perspectives. Too much is also caused by the polarisation of people- I think it is one of our modern day travestis. It’s about grappling with duality and finding common ground, even when it feels impossible. Nuance needs to be the new normal. 2. The line “How did holy turn into hatred?” captures a universal feeling of disillusionment. Was there a particular moment or image that sparked that lyric for you?It wasn’t one specific moment, but rather an accumulation of observing how deeply held beliefs can be twisted and used to justify conflict. It’s a question that’s been on my mind for a long time. 3. You worked with producer Mitch Parks in Nashville — how did his approach influence the sound and atmosphere of the song?Mitch has a great way of capturing raw emotion. He really understood the dynamic I was going for, balancing the heavier themes with a sense of vulnerability. He helped create that atmosphere perfectly. He is a very well accomplished musician- played with Ed Sheeran and now on a world tour with Callum Scott- I am very honoured to have him as a co writer and my producer. 4.The track carries both despair and a fragile sense of hope. How did you balance those emotions musically and lyrically? That balance was key. Lyrically, it’s about acknowledging the darkness but not letting it consume you. Musically, we used dynamics and instrumentation to reflect that push and pull between despair and hope. 5. Many listeners have compared your sound to Kate Bush. How do you feel about that comparison, and who are the artists that most inspire your songwriting today?I’m flattered by the comparison to Kate Bush; she’s an incredible artist. I draw inspiration from so many places – artists like Florence + The Machine, Hozier, and even some older folk influences. It’s about finding authenticity in the songwriting. 6. With “Maybe God is Everywhere” confronting such powerful themes, what do you hope listeners take away after hearing it — reflection, comfort, or perhaps a challenge to think differently?I hope it encourages reflection and perhaps a bit of empathy. If it makes someone think differently or feel a little less alone in their struggles, then I’ve achieved what I set out to do. More Info: alex kate | Instagram, Facebook, TikTok | Linktree