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In a rare exclusive interview, oO5 Dynasty, the creative alias of Jamel Marshall Pearson, opened the door to Ghost Wav with the rare clarity of an artist building a genre from lived history, memory and self-defined philosophy. Across this expansive interview, he traces the roots of the sound through early productions, family legacy, filmic atmosphere, dance, design, archiving and the tools that helped shape his musical language. The conversation moves through originality, preservation, creative ownership and the refusal to let algorithms flatten art into disposable repetition.
What follows is a manifesto for independent thought, emotional movement and a future where Ghost Wav grows through contribution rather than imitation.
A&R Factory asked:
Ghost Wav is being positioned as a standalone genre rather than a loose sound or aesthetic. What was the first moment where you realised this had its own identity, rules and future?
Ghost Wav Wasn’t Created Overnight. I Had Been Chasing It for More Than 20 Years.
There are moments in life when your past suddenly begins making sense.
I’ve been experiencing that lately.
Every day, driving to and from work, I listen to my old productions. Records I made nearly twenty years ago with artists like Legend of New York, Pody, A.O. Baker, Gemstar, Arlis Michaels, and collaborations featuring Staxx Paper.
Most people probably haven’t heard these songs in years.
But I have.
I listen to them faithfully because they represent something much deeper than nostalgia.
They represent discovery.
As I replay those records today, I don’t hear old beats.
I hear the beginning of Ghost Wav.
## Before I Had a Name for It
Back then, I didn’t know music theory the way I do today.
I wasn’t thinking about pivot-chord modulation.
I wasn’t intentionally writing songs that ascended and descended emotionally.
I wasn’t thinking about cinematic movement as a philosophy.
I simply kept trying.
Every beat was another experiment.
Every song was another question.
Every recording session was another opportunity to discover something I didn’t know yesterday.
Looking back now, I realize something incredible.
I wasn’t trying to copy anyone.
I was following emotion.
That made all the difference.
## Trying Is One of Humanity’s Greatest Superpowers
People often believe creativity begins after enough tutorials.
I don’t.
Some of the most important work I’ve ever created came before I understood why it worked.
I had very little experience.
Very little formal understanding.
But I had curiosity.
I kept experimenting.
I kept building.
I kept failing.
Then trying again.
There’s something extraordinary about what happens when a human being focuses completely on one problem without worrying about everyone’s opinions.
That process teaches lessons no tutorial can.
## Listening With Twenty Years of Experience
Today I hear those records differently.
I hear melodies reaching for places I didn’t yet understand.
I hear arrangements trying to move instead of remaining static.
I hear atmosphere.
I hear emotion.
Most importantly…
I hear movement.
Not movement because I knew the theory.
Movement because that’s what felt right.
Ghost Wav didn’t suddenly appear in 2020.
The seeds were already there years earlier.
I simply hadn’t discovered the language to explain what I was hearing.
## The Artists Made Me Believe Even More
One thing continues to amaze me.
The artists sounded different on my productions.
Legend’s flow felt more natural.
The records breathed differently.
The music seemed to invite performances instead of forcing them.
Those same artists could rap over traditional boom bap, trap, drill, or downloaded industry instrumentals.
But something happened when they stepped onto my productions.
The songs became conversations instead of performances.
Looking back, I think it’s because the music itself was already telling a story before the vocals ever arrived.
## Ghost Wav Is the Evolution of That Discovery
Today I no longer depend on samples to create movement.
Now I can compose it.
I can change keys naturally.
I can guide emotion from one section to another.
I can layer orchestration.
I can build atmosphere through texture.
I can use reverb as an emotional instrument instead of just an effect.
I can shape space itself.
Everything I admired in great records—the movement, the tension, the release, the unexpected turns—I now understand well enough to build intentionally.
Ghost Wav isn’t replacing who I was.
It’s revealing who I was becoming all along.
## Looking Back Is Sometimes the Greatest Teacher
People often think progress only comes from looking forward.
Sometimes it comes from looking backward.
Listening to those old productions reminded me that my instincts were leading me long before my knowledge caught up.
That’s one of the greatest gifts experience gives you.
You begin understanding the younger version of yourself.
You stop judging your early work.
Instead, you appreciate its honesty.
You realize that your vision existed before your vocabulary.
## Ghost Wav Is More Than a Genre
People may hear Ghost Wav as a new genre of music.
I hear something different.
I hear twenty years of unanswered questions finally finding answers.
I hear every late night producing.
Every recording session.
Every artist.
Every melody.
Every mistake.
Every experiment.
Every moment I simply tried.
Ghost Wav isn’t just a sound.
It’s the destination my music had been walking toward long before I knew its name.
Sometimes your greatest creation isn’t something you invent overnight.
Sometimes it’s something you’ve been building your entire life without realizing it.
And one day…
You finally hear it.
“Ghost Wav isn’t a composition system. It’s a creative philosophy with a musical foundation.”
— oO5 Dynasty
A&R Factory asked:
You describe Ghost Wav as combining cinematic atmosphere with groove and movement. How do you balance the filmic, almost world-building side of the sound with the physical pull that makes people want to move?
Ghost Wav Isn’t About Balancing Genres. It’s About Understanding What Each Genre Leaves Behind.
When people first hear Ghost Wav, they often ask the same question.
“How do you balance cinematic atmosphere with groove and movement?”
The truth is…
I don’t.
That question assumes I’m trying to combine two existing worlds and find a middle ground between them.
I’m not.
Ghost Wav was never created by balancing genres.
It was created by understanding them deeply enough to know what they were missing.
Every Genre Already Has Its Strengths
Hip-hop already has groove.
Reggae understands rhythm in a way few genres ever will.
Film scores have mastered atmosphere.
Cinematic music understands psychology.
Classical music understands harmony.
None of those things needed me to reinvent them.
They already existed.
The question wasn’t how to balance them.
The question was:
What happens when you remove the limitations each genre has?
That question changed everything.
Hip-Hop Taught Me Movement Through Rhythm
I grew up around hip-hop.
I grew up around reggae.
I danced.
I produced.
I performed.
I watched what music did to people.
When a beat drops…
People move.
When the groove locks in…
People stop thinking and start feeling.
Hip-hop has always understood physical movement.
But after years of producing, I noticed something.
Many songs became trapped inside their first loop.
The groove stayed.
The emotion didn’t always evolve.
The body of the song remained relatively static.
That wasn’t a criticism.
It was simply an observation.
I wanted music to keep moving emotionally the same way dancers move physically.
Cinema Taught Me Psychological Movement
Then there were movies.
I’ve always loved films.
Not just the stories.
The sound.
The silence.
The atmosphere.
Sometimes a sound happens before you even see what’s coming.
Sometimes one distant texture changes your emotional state before a single character speaks.
Film composers understand something incredible.
Music can move your emotions without saying a word.
That fascinated me.
But cinematic music often serves the picture.
It isn’t usually built around groove.
It creates atmosphere beautifully.
It doesn’t always invite your body to move.
Ghost Wav Began With Subtraction
This is where Ghost Wav started.
Not by adding everything together.
By subtracting.
I asked myself:
What if I removed stagnation from hip-hop?
What if I removed the lack of groove from cinematic music?
What if movement itself became the foundation?
Ghost Wav wasn’t built by combining genres.
It was built by removing the walls that kept those genres from reaching each other.
Music Theory Opened the Door
Once I understood that movement was the destination, I needed a way to create it intentionally.
That’s when music theory became essential.
Learning pivot-chord modulation changed everything.
Instead of remaining in one emotional space, I could guide a song naturally from one key to another.
A section could ascend.
Another could descend.
A major key could become a minor key.
A chorus could feel like it was lifting into the sky.
A verse could quietly fall back to earth.
Every four or eight bars, the emotional landscape could change without feeling forced.
The music itself began traveling.
That’s what Ghost Wav is.
A journey.
Movement Exists Beyond Melody
Movement isn’t only harmonic.
It’s spatial.
Most producers understand panning from left to right.
I became fascinated with another dimension.
Front to back.
What I think of as north and south.
Reverb stacking became one of the ways I explored that space.
Instead of simply making sounds “wet,” I began placing them at different emotional distances.
Some instruments feel close enough to touch.
Others sound like they’re echoing from the horizon.
Sometimes a texture appears once in an entire song and never returns.
Not because it needs repetition.
Because it only exists to move the listener emotionally at that exact moment.
Every sound has a purpose.
The Instrumental Should Already Tell a Story
One philosophy guides everything I create.
The instrumental should already be telling a story before the artist ever begins singing or rapping.
When vocals finally arrive, they shouldn’t create the story.
They should continue one that already exists.
That’s why Ghost Wav doesn’t feel like a collection of loops.
It feels like traveling through scenes.
Each section reveals another piece of the journey.
Ghost Wav Is About Human Emotion
People sometimes assume Ghost Wav is defined by cinematic textures.
Or reverb.
Or modulation.
Or orchestration.
Those are tools.
The real foundation is movement.
Psychological movement.
Emotional movement.
Physical movement.
Ghost Wav asks one simple question throughout every composition:
How can this next moment make the listener feel something different from the last?
When every section answers that question…
The song begins to float.
Like a ghost.
Not because it’s haunting.
But because it’s always moving.
Never standing still.
“Marketing Shows Possibilities. Research Reveals Purpose.”
— oO5 Dynasty
A&R Factory asked:
Your creative background stretches across production, recording, filmmaking, design, choreography and content creation. How much of Ghost Wav comes from seeing music as something visual, physical and architectural at the same time?
Ghost Wav Was Already Inside Me. My Life Simply Gave It a Voice.
One of my favorite questions people ask is how my background in production, recording, filmmaking, design, choreography, and entertainment shaped Ghost Wav.
I like the question because it goes deeper than asking what software I use or what inspires a particular song.
It asks something much bigger.
How does a lifetime become a genre?
For me, the answer is surprisingly simple.
Ghost Wav didn’t come from looking outward.
It came from looking inward.
Your Genre Might Already Be Inside You
One thing I’ve tried to encourage creators to do throughout my career is to stop looking for themselves in other people’s work.
Today, we’re surrounded by tutorials, algorithms, trends, and social media telling us what successful music should sound like.
People spend years studying existing genres.
Very few spend time studying themselves.
That’s backwards.
Hip-hop isn’t my genre.
I love it.
I grew up with it.
I’ve produced it.
I’ve danced to it.
I’ve lived it.
But I didn’t create it.
The same is true for cinematic music.
I love film scores.
I love the way they manipulate emotion.
I love how they create atmosphere before a single word is spoken.
But I didn’t create that either.
Ghost Wav came from asking a different question.
What does my own life sound like?
Every Experience Leaves a Fingerprint
People often think inspiration comes from listening to more music.
Sometimes it comes from paying attention to your own life.
Everything I experienced found its way into Ghost Wav.
Music production.
Recording sessions.
Songwriting.
Graphic design.
Filmmaking.
Dance.
Graffiti.
Photography.
Watching movies.
Listening to background scores that many people never even notice.
Even the way I watch a film is different.
Some people leave the theater talking about the actors.
Some leave talking about the story.
I often leave thinking about a sound that lasted three seconds.
A distant texture.
A subtle melody.
A single musical phrase that completely changed the emotional weight of a scene.
Those moments stay with me.
Eventually they became part of my music.
Ghost Wav Existed Before It Had a Name
One realization changed everything for me.
Ghost Wav didn’t suddenly appear when I named it.
It was already inside me.
Looking back at productions I made in the early 2000s, I can hear it.
Not perfectly.
Not fully developed.
But it’s there.
The emotional movement.
The atmosphere.
The desire to escape repetition.
The instinct to let music evolve instead of remaining static.
At the time I didn’t understand why I kept chasing those ideas.
I had no theory.
No terminology.
No philosophy.
I was simply following instinct.
Years later I finally understood what those instincts had been trying to teach me.
Creativity Is an Organic Process
People sometimes ask me which skill influenced Ghost Wav the most.
Was it dancing?
Producing?
Film?
Design?
Music theory?
The honest answer is…
All of them.
And none of them individually.
Ghost Wav wasn’t built by selecting one discipline over another.
It emerged naturally from the totality of my life.
Every experience contributed something.
Every mistake contributed something.
Every success contributed something.
Every late-night studio session.
Every conversation.
Every performance.
Every experiment.
It all accumulated until one day I finally recognized the pattern.
Protecting My Own Voice
Throughout my career I was fortunate enough to work with talented artists and spend time around people who had already achieved remarkable success.
Those experiences taught me a great deal.
But one lesson mattered more than any other.
Never lose your own voice.
It’s easy to spend your life chasing the next trend.
Boom bap.
Trap.
Drill.
Afrobeats.
Whatever dominates the moment.
There’s nothing wrong with appreciating those genres.
The danger comes when they replace your own identity.
I never wanted to become someone else’s echo.
I wanted to discover what was uniquely mine.
Ghost Wav became the result of that decision.
What If Everyone Looked Within?
Sometimes I wonder what music would sound like if more people stopped trying to fit into existing categories.
What if every creator spent less time asking,
“What’s popular?”
and more time asking,
“What already exists inside me?”
Maybe we’d discover genres that don’t exist yet.
Maybe we’d hear sounds no one has imagined.
Maybe music would continue evolving instead of repeating itself.
That’s one of the reasons I openly share the philosophy behind Ghost Wav.
Not because I want people to copy it.
Quite the opposite.
I hope it encourages people to discover something that’s uniquely theirs.
Ghost Wav Is My Life in Musical Form
When people hear Ghost Wav, they’re hearing more than a style of music.
They’re hearing decades of experiences converging into one creative language.
Dance.
Film.
Design.
Architecture.
Psychology.
Production.
Emotion.
Curiosity.
Persistence.
None of those things existed separately inside me.
They always belonged together.
I just needed enough years, enough failures, enough victories, and enough understanding to recognize the language they had been speaking all along.
Ghost Wav wasn’t something I invented by looking at the world.
It was something I discovered by finally listening to myself.
“A foundation should support imagination, not limit it.”
— oO5 Dynasty
A&R Factory asked:
Before oO5 Dynasty, there was Legacy, Legendary Team and a whole earlier era of work. What did that chapter teach you about discipline, authorship and protecting your own creative language?
Before I Became oO5 Dynasty, I Learned How to Help Someone Else Build a Dream
People often ask me what my years as Legacy and my time with Legendary Team taught me.
Most expect me to talk about the music industry.
The truth is…
The greatest lesson wasn’t about music.
It was about becoming useful.
I Didn’t Start With Talent
When people look at me today, they see someone who produces music, writes songs, builds websites, designs graphics, creates videos, researches music theory, and documents history.
It can look like those skills simply appeared.
They didn’t.
I started with almost nothing.
My twin brother, Tywan Mitchell Pearson—known professionally as Legend of New York—already knew what he wanted.
He wanted to become a recording artist.
He spent countless hours writing lyrics, developing his craft, and chasing his dream.
I looked at that and asked myself a different question.
How can I help?
That single question changed my life.
Every Problem Became an Opportunity to Learn
If Legend needed beats…
I learned how to make beats.
If he needed artwork…
I learned Photoshop.
If he needed a website…
I learned HTML and CSS.
If he needed someone to understand contracts…
I studied business.
If I needed a deeper understanding of the recording industry…
I enrolled at the Institute of Audio Research in New York City.
Every challenge became another skill.
Not because I wanted to collect talents.
Because I wanted to remove obstacles.
Looking back, I realize I wasn’t just helping build Legendary Team.
I was building myself.
Legacy Was Given to Me
One thing many people don’t know is that I didn’t choose the name Legacy.
Legend gave it to me.
Because he was Legend, he looked at me one day and said,
“Your name should be Legacy.”
At the time, I didn’t fully appreciate what that meant.
Years later, I understood something important.
Not every part of your story is chosen by you.
Some opportunities find you.
Some names find you.
Some responsibilities find you.
Life isn’t only about creating your own path.
Sometimes it’s about how you respond to the path that’s placed in front of you.
Consistency Built Everything
People often ask what the secret is.
There wasn’t one.
I simply showed up.
Every day.
I made another beat.
Designed another graphic.
Built another webpage.
Went to another recording session.
Took another photograph.
Learned another lesson.
Most of those early beats were probably terrible.
Most people will never hear them.
But they served their purpose.
Every bad beat taught me something the next beat needed.
Progress wasn’t glamorous.
It was repetitive.
Being Present Was an Education
Even when I wasn’t the featured artist…
I was there.
Even when I wasn’t the lead producer…
I was there.
Even when I wasn’t speaking…
I was listening.
Recording sessions became classrooms.
Conversations became education.
Watching professionals work became part of my training.
Sometimes the greatest lesson isn’t being the person in the spotlight.
Sometimes it’s simply being in the room long enough to understand how greatness is built.
Legendary Team Became My University
People often think education only happens inside schools.
For me, Legendary Team was another kind of university.
Working alongside artists.
Producing records.
Filming.
Designing.
Traveling.
Problem-solving.
Building.
Failing.
Trying again.
Those experiences taught me things no textbook ever could.
By the time people started recognizing my work, they were seeing the result of thousands of invisible hours.
Legacy Built oO5 Dynasty
People sometimes separate my past from my present.
I don’t.
Legacy didn’t disappear.
Legacy evolved.
Without those years…
There would be no Ghost Wav.
There would be no documentaries.
No websites.
No archives.
No production philosophy.
No oO5 Dynasty.
Everything I create today stands on foundations that were built years earlier.
Becoming the Ultimate Human Being
One philosophy has guided me throughout my life.
I never wanted to become the best at one thing.
I wanted to become the best version of myself.
Every new skill became another tool.
Photography.
Music production.
Graphic design.
Filmmaking.
Dance.
Web development.
Business.
Writing.
Research.
None of those disciplines compete with one another.
Together, they make me a more complete creator.
They allow me to contribute wherever I’m needed.
Success Isn’t Just About Yourself
Looking back, I don’t think Legacy was only preparing me for a career.
It was preparing me for a philosophy.
Helping someone else taught me how to help myself.
Building a team taught me how to build a vision.
Learning one skill taught me how to learn anything.
The music industry showed me success.
It also showed me disappointment.
It showed me loyalty.
It showed me betrayal.
It showed me creativity.
It showed me imitation.
Every experience became another layer of understanding.
Today, people know me as oO5 Dynasty.
They see Ghost Wav.
They see the music.
They see the philosophy.
But none of those things appeared overnight.
Before there was oO5 Dynasty…
There was Legacy.
And Legacy taught me that the greatest investment you can ever make isn’t into a trend, a platform, or even a career.
It’s into becoming the kind of person who can keep growing, no matter what life asks of you next.
“If everyone creates identical Ghost Wav… then Ghost Wav has failed.”
— oO5 Dynasty
A&R Factory asked:
You’ve been releasing archival productions, including songs produced for Legend of NY. What does preservation mean to you in a culture that keeps pushing artists to chase the next trend instead of documenting what already mattered?
I Didn’t Start Documenting My Work Because I Wanted Fame. I Started Because I Learned What It Feels Like to Lose History.
People often ask why I’ve spent so much time archiving my music, documenting my work, and preserving projects that many creators would have left behind years ago.
The answer has very little to do with music.
It has everything to do with history.
Following Is Human Nature
I don’t believe people wake up one morning and consciously decide to become followers.
I think it happens naturally.
From the day we’re born, we’re taught by someone else.
Our parents teach us how to walk.
How to speak.
How to read.
How to understand the world.
Following is one of the first things we ever learn.
As adults, that instinct often continues.
Only now we’re following trends.
Following algorithms.
Following influencers.
Following whatever everyone else is doing.
Most people aren’t trying to lose themselves.
They’re simply repeating what they’ve always been taught.
Then, for some people, something changes.
It’s almost like waking up.
You suddenly step outside the crowd and realize…
“I’ve been following everyone else’s path instead of discovering my own.”
That realization changes everything.
I Never Planned to Build an Archive
People sometimes assume I always intended to preserve everything I created.
I didn’t.
I simply never wanted to throw it away.
Old hard drives.
Music sessions.
Photos.
Videos.
Graphics.
Projects.
They stayed with me because getting rid of them never felt right.
I wasn’t building an archive.
I was simply holding onto pieces of my life.
Years later, I realized those pieces had become history.
Losing My Mother Changed the Way I Value Memory
When I was a child, my mother passed away.
Afterward, much of what we had in our home disappeared.
Photographs.
Personal belongings.
Memories captured in physical form.
Gone.
Some relatives later found and shared a few photographs with us.
Without them, many moments would have existed only in memory.
That experience stayed with me.
I don’t think I understood it at the time.
But looking back now, I believe it quietly shaped the way I treat everything I create.
I learned early that once history disappears…
Sometimes it never comes back.
The Internet Taught Me Another Lesson
Years later I began speaking publicly about creativity, originality, and what I eventually called the Copy and Clone Generation.
As those conversations grew, people naturally asked questions about my own history.
“Where’s your proof?”
“What have you done?”
“Where’s the evidence?”
At first, I wasn’t bothered.
Because I knew what I had lived.
But then I realized something important.
If your work isn’t documented…
To the outside world, it might as well not exist.
That wasn’t a painful realization.
It was an educational one.
I had spent years producing records.
Designing.
Filming.
Building websites.
Creating graphics.
Working behind the scenes.
Helping artists.
But because much of it had never been publicly documented, people couldn’t see it.
Not because it wasn’t real.
Because it wasn’t preserved where others could discover it.
A Digital Museum
That realization completely changed my philosophy.
I no longer wanted to simply create.
I wanted to preserve.
That’s when the idea of building a digital museum emerged.
Not a museum about fame.
A museum about evidence.
A place where music…
Photography…
Design…
Dance…
Film…
Writing…
Ghost Wav…
And every chapter of my creative life could exist together.
Not because I need validation.
Because history deserves preservation.
Trends Eventually Disappear
One reason I never became interested in chasing trends is because trends have expiration dates.
Today’s viral sound becomes tomorrow’s forgotten algorithm.
History works differently.
History compounds.
The more accurately it’s documented…
The more valuable it becomes.
I’d rather spend twenty years building something people can study than twenty days building something people scroll past.
Documentation Is an Act of Respect
Today, I don’t archive my work because I believe every project is perfect.
I archive it because every project represents a moment that can never happen again.
Every song.
Every photograph.
Every interview.
Every website.
Every documentary.
Every experiment.
Together they tell a story that no single project ever could.
That’s why I continue documenting.
Not because I’m chasing trends.
Not because I’m chasing fame.
But because I finally understand something I learned many years ago.
When history is lost…
Part of us disappears with it.
When history is preserved…
Future generations can still hear our voice.
A&R Factory asked:
The idea of structured digital archives, websites, publications and media platforms feels central to what you’re building. Are you thinking of Ghost Wav as a music genre, a historical record, a creative institution, or all of those at once?
Ghost Wav Isn’t a Rulebook. It’s a Foundation for Human Creativity.
One question I often receive is whether Ghost Wav is becoming more than a musical genre.
People ask about the websites.
The documentation.
The articles.
The archives.
The diagrams.
The philosophy.
Sometimes they assume I’m trying to create a rigid structure around Ghost Wav.
The truth is…
I’m trying to do the opposite.
Every Structure Needs a Foundation
I believe every meaningful creation needs a foundation.
Ghost Wav is no different.
That foundation isn’t a specific instrument.
It isn’t a specific tempo.
It isn’t a specific chord progression.
It isn’t even a specific sound.
The foundation is movement.
Movement through harmony.
Movement through emotion.
Movement through psychology.
Movement through the body of the song.
That’s why I talk about pivot-chord modulation, key changes, emotional transitions, ascending, descending, texture, atmosphere, rhythm, and groove.
Those ideas aren’t rules.
They’re ways of encouraging music to keep evolving instead of standing still.
Everything Beyond That Belongs to the Creator
Once the foundation exists…
The rest belongs to you.
Maybe your Ghost Wav begins with a piano.
Someone else’s begins with a violin.
Another producer starts with field recordings.
Another begins with an acapella voice.
Someone else may begin with artificial intelligence before transforming it into something deeply personal.
None of those approaches automatically make or break Ghost Wav.
Because Ghost Wav doesn’t begin with the tool.
It begins with the person using it.
Documentation Doesn’t Define Ghost Wav
People sometimes look at my websites, articles, and archives and assume they’re part of Ghost Wav itself.
They’re not.
They’re documentation.
They’re simply the tools available in today’s world.
If the internet didn’t exist…
I’d be writing everything in notebooks.
Drawing diagrams by hand.
Publishing books instead of websites.
The medium would change.
The philosophy wouldn’t.
Ghost Wav doesn’t exist because of websites.
The websites exist because Ghost Wav already exists.
Freedom Is Part of the Design
One reason I believe Ghost Wav has so much potential is because it refuses to force everyone toward the same destination.
A producer in Brazil won’t hear Ghost Wav exactly the way I do.
Neither will someone in Japan.
Or Australia.
Or Chile.
Or New York.
And I don’t want them to.
Every person carries different experiences.
Different emotions.
Different cultures.
Different stories.
Why should every Ghost Wav composition sound identical?
It shouldn’t.
Even Ghosts Are Experienced Differently
I’ve always loved the symbolism behind the name Ghost Wav.
Ask ten people what a ghost looks like…
You’ll probably hear ten different answers.
Some imagine a glowing white figure.
Others imagine something transparent.
Some imagine a glitch.
Some don’t see anything at all.
They simply feel a presence.
A cold breeze.
A shift in atmosphere.
Ghost Wav works the same way.
The experience matters more than the appearance.
My Goal Isn’t to Create Followers
One thing has remained consistent throughout my entire creative journey.
I’m not interested in creating followers.
I’m interested in helping people discover themselves.
That’s why I encourage musicians to look inward instead of outward.
Ghost Wav isn’t asking people to imitate me.
It’s asking them to understand themselves deeply enough that something original begins to emerge.
If everyone creates identical Ghost Wav…
Then Ghost Wav has failed.
A Living Culture
People sometimes ask whether Ghost Wav is simply a genre.
I think it’s capable of becoming something much larger.
Not because I control it.
Because I don’t.
A culture grows when people contribute their own experiences.
Their own interpretations.
Their own emotions.
Their own perspectives.
Ghost Wav has room for all of that.
The foundation remains.
Everything else continues evolving.
The Invisible Architecture
When people ask me what Ghost Wav really is…
I don’t think about websites.
I don’t think about articles.
I don’t think about archives.
I think about a feeling.
A vibration.
A piece of music that refuses to remain emotionally still.
Something that moves.
Something that breathes.
Something that changes.
Just enough to make the listener feel like they’re traveling instead of simply listening.
The documentation simply explains the philosophy.
The music is where Ghost Wav truly exists.
And that’s exactly where I believe it should stay.
A&R Factory asked:
You’re currently using the Roland FA-06 and MPC Live to create original Ghost Wav compositions. What do those tools give you that software alone can’t, especially when you’re trying to build something with its own signature DNA?
Ghost Wav Didn’t Come From Expensive Gear. It Came From Understanding My Tools.
One question I’ve been asked is why I continue creating Ghost Wav with a Roland FA-06 workstation and an MPC Live.
Most people expect me to answer by talking about hardware.
That’s not really the answer.
The answer is understanding.
The Tool Was Never the Destination
For years, I watched people argue about equipment.
Which sampler is better.
Which workstation sounds better.
Which plugins are better.
Which company makes the best keyboard.
Eventually I stopped asking those questions.
Instead, I asked something much simpler.
“What is this tool actually designed to do?”
That single question changed my entire creative process.
Marketing Shows Possibilities
Research Reveals Purpose
Modern music technology is surrounded by incredible marketing.
Beautiful videos.
Finger drumming.
Flashy demonstrations.
Influencers.
Product launches.
Endless feature lists.
There’s nothing wrong with any of that.
But marketing teaches you what a company wants you to see.
Research teaches you what the tool actually is.
I became fascinated with understanding the inner architecture of the instruments I already owned.
How they processed sound.
How they handled sampling.
How they layered instruments.
How reverb actually behaved.
How pre-delay affected emotional space.
How stereo width changed perception.
The more I understood the tools…
The more they disappeared.
My Roland FA-06 Waited Patiently
One of the biggest lessons in my journey came from a keyboard that spent years sitting in the corner of my room.
My Roland FA-06 collected dust.
I even have photographs of it sitting there untouched.
At one point I cleaned it until it looked exactly the way it had the day I opened the box.
Then something changed.
Instead of seeing it as another keyboard…
I began seeing it as an orchestra waiting to be explored.
That’s when Ghost Wav truly accelerated.
Building My Own Musical DNA
I stopped searching for someone else’s sounds.
I began building my own.
My own layered strings.
My own trumpet sections.
My own orchestral textures.
My own studio sets.
Names like…
oO5 Elven Forest
oO5 Trumpets
These weren’t presets.
They became part of my own musical language.
Every sound carried a purpose.
Every layer became another color on my palette.
Eventually I realized something beautiful.
I wasn’t collecting sounds.
I was building a vocabulary.
Then the MPC Found Its True Purpose
Around the same time, I stopped asking the MPC to become something it wasn’t.
Modern technology often encourages us to use every feature simply because it exists.
I chose a different approach.
I allowed the MPC to excel at what made it legendary.
Sampling.
Performance.
Capture.
Workflow.
The workstation remained the workstation.
The sampler remained the sampler.
Instead of forcing both machines to become identical…
I allowed each one to become exceptional at its own job.
That’s when the workflow finally clicked.
Understanding Creates Freedom
Once I understood the foundation…
Everything became possible.
An entire composition could grow from one string section.
Every four or eight bars the harmony could evolve.
Pivot-chord modulation could move the emotion.
A piano could enter.
Then disappear.
A choir could quietly emerge.
An eagle could begin in the left speaker…
Travel across the stereo field…
Fade into the distance…
While layers of carefully controlled reverb pushed it farther toward the horizon.
Those aren’t effects for the sake of effects.
They’re movement.
Every decision serves the journey.
Ghost Wav Lives Beyond the Equipment
People sometimes assume Ghost Wav exists because of specific instruments.
I don’t believe that.
If tomorrow I lost every piece of equipment I own…
Ghost Wav would still exist.
Because Ghost Wav doesn’t live inside the hardware.
It lives inside understanding.
The instruments simply help me express it.
Respect the Tool. Discover Yourself.
If there’s one lesson my creative journey has taught me, it’s this.
Respect your tools enough to understand them.
Respect the people who built them.
Learn why they exist.
Learn what they’re actually good at.
Then…
Forget about the equipment.
Bring yourself into the music.
Because no workstation…
No sampler…
No synthesizer…
No software…
Can create your identity for you.
Only you can do that.
The tools simply help reveal what was already waiting inside.
A&R Factory asked:
In an era dominated by algorithms, imitation and disposable trends, your work places huge value on originality, independent thinking and intellectual property. What does the long-term Ghost Wav ecosystem look like once the releases, archives, visuals and documentation all start speaking to each other?
Ghost Wav Doesn’t Belong to Me. It Belongs to Everyone Who Builds Upon It.
One of the most fascinating questions I’ve been asked is about the future of Ghost Wav.
People want to know what the long-term ecosystem looks like.
The websites.
The archives.
The music.
The culture.
The community.
The truth is…
I can’t answer that question.
And I don’t think I’m supposed to.
A Creator Doesn’t Own the Future
I know where Ghost Wav began.
I know why I created it.
I understand its foundation.
But I don’t know what Ghost Wav will ultimately become.
Because that part no longer belongs only to me.
Every person who experiences Ghost Wav will see something different.
Every producer will hear different possibilities.
Every songwriter will tell different stories.
Every culture will contribute different emotions.
That’s exactly how it should be.
A Foundation Shouldn’t Become a Cage
Everything in our world is built around structure.
Schools.
Governments.
Jobs.
Laws.
Organizations.
Most systems teach people where they are allowed to go.
Ghost Wav asks a different question.
“Where haven’t you gone yet?”
The foundation exists.
Movement.
Emotion.
Growth.
Psychology.
Originality.
Everything beyond that is exploration.
Ghost Wav Encourages Discovery
I’m not interested in telling another producer which chord progression they must use.
Or which instrument they should begin with.
Or which emotion they should express.
Ghost Wav begins with one simple idea.
Bring yourself into the music.
If your journey leads somewhere unexpected…
Go there.
If your imagination finds a sound no one has heard before…
Follow it.
That’s not breaking Ghost Wav.
That’s fulfilling it.
One Song Can Contain Many Songs
One realization changed the way I compose.
Most songs revolve around one primary musical identity.
Ghost Wav doesn’t have to.
An introduction can become its own world.
A verse can introduce another.
A chorus can completely transform the emotional landscape.
A bridge can reveal something entirely unexpected.
By the end of a single composition…
You haven’t simply repeated one great loop.
You’ve explored multiple musical worlds connected by one emotional journey.
Sometimes I think about it this way.
A truly successful Ghost Wav composition doesn’t contain one song.
It contains many songs living together.
Each section could inspire an entirely different creation.
Each loop could become its own record.
That’s one reason Ghost Wav feels so alive to me.
Every section has its own identity.
The Possibilities Continue Expanding
Because Ghost Wav is built around movement rather than limitation…
Its possibilities continue expanding.
Films.
Television.
Video games.
Commercials.
Background scores.
Orchestral performances.
Hip-hop.
Reggae.
Music that hasn’t even been named yet.
Every new creator adds another possibility.
Every new interpretation expands the language.
That’s how living cultures evolve.
My Goal Was Never Control
Some founders want complete ownership over everything their creation becomes.
I don’t.
If Ghost Wav depends entirely on me forever…
Then I haven’t created something living.
I’ve created something fragile.
I’d much rather see Ghost Wav become something people continue exploring long after my own journey is finished.
Not because they copied me.
Because they discovered themselves.
Ghost Wav Belongs to Everyone
People often call me the founder of Ghost Wav.
That’s true.
History should accurately remember where it began.
But history shouldn’t stop there.
Ghost Wav doesn’t become meaningful because I continue speaking.
It becomes meaningful because other people eventually have something meaningful to say through it.
That’s the future I’m excited about.
Not ownership.
Contribution.
Not imitation.
Discovery.
Not repetition.
Evolution.
Ghost Wav began with one person’s imagination.
Its future belongs to everyone willing to bring their own.
Thank you again for creating questions that encouraged reflection rather than promotion. This interview became an opportunity to define Ghost Wav not only as a genre, but as a creative philosophy with a musical foundation. I sincerely appreciate the opportunity to share my story.
Respectfully,
oO5 Dynasty
Jamel Marshall Pearson
In this A&R Factory interview, the independent artist, Maya D, opens up about the confidence, feminine power and self-ownership behind her June 26 single, ‘Pool Party in BOLD’, explaining how the title became a declaration of taking up space without apology. She also talks self-producing as a way of protecting emotional intention in her music, how the Maya Verse has become a world of glamour, vulnerability and transformation, and the strategy required to grow an international audience while handling the business side alone.
From sync ambitions in fashion, film, television and brand campaigns to music that feels built for main-character moments, Maya D’s ambition is as big as her talent.
For me, “bold” isn’t just a visual choice—it’s a state of mind. The title unlocked this idea of taking up space without asking for permission. A pool party is usually associated with fun and freedom, but adding “in BOLD” transformed it into a declaration. It became less about a place and more about an attitude. Everything that followed—the lyrics, the production, the visuals—had to carry that same fearless energy.
Very early on. I realized that if I softened the message, the song would lose its purpose. Confidence isn’t always quiet or perfectly composed—it can be playful, bold, even a little provocative. I wanted the track to celebrate women who know who they are and aren’t interested in shrinking themselves to make others comfortable.
Producing my own music allows me to protect the emotional core of every song. There’s no need to translate my vision or compromise on details that might seem small but completely change the feeling. Every sound, every pause, every texture serves the story I’m trying to tell. That level of creative freedom is incredibly important to me.
It usually begins with a feeling rather than a melody. I imagine colors, textures, lighting, movement, even the emotional atmosphere before I hear the music. The Maya Verse is where glamour meets vulnerability, where confidence and introspection exist at the same time. Every song becomes another room inside that universe.
Because the glamour is never the destination—it’s the language. The emotion always comes first. I love beautiful visuals and cinematic worlds, but they only matter if they’re carrying something honest underneath. I think people connect with authenticity long before they connect with aesthetics.
I hope they feel permission. Permission to take up space, to move differently, to walk into a room with confidence instead of apology. I want it to feel like that moment where you stop overthinking and simply own who you are.
I’ve learned that ambition needs structure. As an independent artist, you’re constantly balancing creativity with business decisions, marketing, planning, and long-term strategy. It can be overwhelming, but I’ve realized that consistency is often more powerful than speed. Every release becomes another brick in the world I’m building.
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Stream Pool Party in BOLD on all available platforms via this link.
Interview by Amelia Vandergast
Jus NBL talks about hip-hop like someone building his own pantheon, not disposable singles. In this A&R Factory interview, the Philadelphia artist opens up about the basement studio environment that taught him authenticity early, the evolution from Jus a Preview to Fine Wine, and why he thinks of his albums as “sonic movies”. He reflects on Miles Davis, 2Pac and Prince as forces that pushed him towards risk, structure and emotional range, while also unpacking the difference between chasing circus-like fame and becoming a prestige artist with lasting work. From writing, rapping and engineering alone in the studio to rejecting cliché and protecting peace, Jus NBL lays out a serious vision for the kind of hip-hop he wants to leave behind.
I think all of them, to be honest, because it’s a constant evolution of a human being. Also, I’m multifaceted, so all of it is me, just different sides.
Jus a preview is just, you know, a preview of what I’m capable of
Fine Wine is when I really started to understand how to structure an album from top to bottom. I did well with Jus a Preview, but I really honed it in with that album from there; it’s been the evolution but as I learn more I will keep going.
To always stay authentic no matter what! Don’t copy others; do your own thing.
Engineer arranging the whole picture 4sure because I’m coming up with the skit if that’s needed in the song the hook how the verses tie into the hook also I make sure I have the right production goes with the lyrics it’s a lot to it if I gotta bring other voices into the track whether I gotta do it but change my voice thru effects whatever I have a big picture mindset to the music I already out grew that mindset of just spitting bars I told myself I wanna be one of the greatest overall hiphop artists that has ever walked in the genre that means the songwriting/Song Making, album making mindset that is truly memorable.
They taught me to go my own way and keep evolving because one thing you never wanna do is make cliche stuff Miles Davis has the perfect quote he said “Don’t play what’s there play what’s not there” a lot of creatives mess themselves up trying to recreate what’s already there, at first it can be hard because we are wired to reject something different but if you keep fighting it pays off a lot then you allow other ppl to be more authentic in different ways outside of the music you make ppl feel like they are not alone in this world also Miles showed me how to really put an album together from listen to Miles Ahead , Agharta , In a silent way etc a lot of his albums have a beginning to end like a film because he was heavily into the late romantic and modernist composers like Ernest Bloch ravel Stravinsky Bartok. I myself started studying them and other musicians from different genres even more after studying miles.
The production just speaks to you it tells you what to say how to say it. Whenever I usually hear a beat tbh the music is being channeled thru me.
Yes it makes it much easier because I’m always in the studio by myself when you’re alone that’s when the best ideas come because like I said it’s being channeled thru you . Usually when I hear a beat I start writing almost immediately not out of rushing but because I hear it immediately what I need to say I’m not just tryna flex all of this technical brilliance but actually having alot of artistic imagination for my music that’s more important because with technical brilliance you make robot music just saying or doing stuff that’s already been done to death.
At first I had like warped idea of what me eventually becoming famous is for my music, I didn’t realize it’s two sides to the art/entertainment world one I call the circus where you stay in drama controversy etc then the most your known for is a hot single or 2 I call that reality tv type famous then it’s another type of fame for the prestige artist who may only cause controversy for the music itself but outside of that lives a much more peaceful life make more money because they make hit albums music that’s more innovative eclectic. I came to the conclusion it’s much better to be the prestige artist you know? I would rather my music be more exclusive than try to appeal to everybody a lot of ppl lose themselves trying to get ppl to like them or appeal to so many ppl , I can make the same if not more money than my reality tv type famous artist doing concert halls for 2 months out the year and doing a few festivals because the audience is more invested than the other side while keeping my peace and focusing on what really matters.
That I am a pure artist who wants to keep pushing myself forward with my music never settling for the status quo, always in a constant disagreement with almost everything because the way everything is now came from ppl being in disagreement with how things were before that you know? Also, I just wanna keep making what I call “Sonic Movies” for my music I been structuring my albums like that for a while; as time goes on, I will only get better.
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Stream Jus NBL on Apple Music.
Interview by Amelia Vandergast
Ashley Paul’s dance-pop empire is built from movement, emotion, discipline and a refusal to let the genre be flattened into easy escapism. In this A&R Factory interview, the New York-born artist opens up about working between the UK and the US, the different flavours of club culture across both sides of the Atlantic, and the “special sauce” that lets her load sensuality, soul and glamour into music made for the dancefloor. She also reflects on the international reach of her catalogue, the continuing life of her Billboard hit When Boys Cry, the thrill of preparing for 54 Below, and why collaboration can feel like creating a new life before having to let it go. With new music, media appearances and live shows ahead, Ashley Paul sounds fully charged for 2026.
Interview by Amelia Vandergast
Mitch Freimark sits right at the fault line where traditional country storytelling, Southern rock voltage and AI disruption collide. In this interview, he speaks plainly about using SUNO and his AI vocal character Cade Nichols to finally give decades of unheard songs the voices he had been carrying in his head. Freimark also pushes back against the “AI slop” argument, making a case for lyrics, guitar parts, lived experience and human authorship as the real foundation of his work.
All these years sitting on songs only I believed in and knowing I wouldn’t do any of them justice with my limited vocal range was frustrating and finding the right vocalist to bring them to life was impossible. Hiring singers, studio musicians, and producers for every song simply isn’t realistic for an independent songwriter.
When I discovered SUNO, I didn’t see it as a shortcut—I saw it as an opportunity. It allowed me to finally hear my songs the way I intended them to be sung. More importantly, allowed me match each song with the voice bouncing around in my head that fit the emotion and personality of the story I was trying to tell.
I don’t believe I have a “style” in the way I write because every song has its own identity. Some need a gritty rock vocal, some need a modern country voice, and others need something more emotional and vulnerable. AI gave me the ability to experiment and find the voice that best served the song rather than forcing every song into the limitations of the resources I had available, me. LOL
At the end of the day, the songwriting is still the foundation. The lyrics, melodies, guitar work, and overall vision come from me. AI didn’t create those songs—it helped me finally share them with the world in a way that felt complete.
AI became the bridge between ideas that lived on paper and finished recordings people could actually hear. For me, it wasn’t about replacing musicianship—it was about removing barriers that kept my music locked away for years.
I want to be very clear, I’ve never shied away from the fact I’m using AI. I think a lot of critics hear the words “AI vocals” and stop listening. They assume the computer wrote the song, felt the emotion, and did all the creative work. In my case, the songwriting is still all me. The stories, lyrics, themes, melodies, and production decisions come from me. AI is simply the voice delivering the performance. But that doesn’t matter to the hardcore No AI Allowed.
To address the ‘AI slop,’ it’s their opinion, but I’d ask them to judge the song itself. Do the lyrics connect? Does the melody stay with you? Does the story mean something to someone? Those are the same standards we’ve always used for music. FYI, I normally run my new songs by my musician friends, my brother Todd and my sons Nick and Mitchell – if they like it, I know it’s a winner.
What critics don’t see is many independent artists now have access to ways of bringing their songs to life that would have been financially impossible a few years ago. I don’t use AI to replace creativity—I use it to amplify it. Nobody calls a photographer less of an artist because they use Photoshop, or a filmmaker less creative because they use CGI. Technology changes, but creativity still matters. AI is just another tool in my arsenal of creativity.
Since all my songs all start with a blank page and AI can’t replace having something meaningful to say. Example: “Jesus Musta Been Country” honoring hardworking ranch women, or “Middle of Nowhere”(to be released in July) built around a personal South Dakota road-trip experience. The emotion in my songs comes from real experiences, real people, and real places. AI didn’t grow up around ranches, drive across South Dakota, or meet the people who inspired those stories. I did. The technology may sing the words, but it didn’t live them.
Absolutely! If there’s one thing this journey has reinforced for me, its people connect with my songs because of how it makes them feel, not because of the technology used to create the music. Listeners don’t know the countless hours spent writing lyrics, reworking melodies, refining guitar parts, and shaping a story until it says exactly what you want it to say. They just know whether a song moves them.
I’ve always believed, Great Songs will find their way to the listeners. Not all of my work will be considered great, but its close and people enjoy listening to it and for me that’s all that matters.
When someone messages me saying a song reminded them of a person they love, a place they miss, or a chapter of their life, they’re responding to the writing. They’re responding to the story and the emotion behind it. That’s incredibly validating because it tells me those songs had something worth saying all along.
AI never created the fan connection—it simply helped remove the barriers that kept my songs from being heard. The response from listeners has confirmed what I hoped for years: that the strength of a song ultimately comes from the idea, the story, and the emotion behind it. Everything else is just the vehicle that carries it to the audience.
When I started experimenting with AI vocals, I went through countless variations. Some sounded technically good, but they didn’t feel authentic to the stories I was telling. Then I found a vocal style that became Cade Nichols, and something clicked. The voice had the balance I was looking for—modern enough to fit today’s country music, but rooted enough to carry themes of family, hard work, small towns, faith, heartbreak, and resilience.
The best way I can describe it is that I stopped noticing the technology and started hearing the song. That’s when I knew I had found the right voice. Cade wasn’t created to replace the music; he became the vehicle that finally allowed the music to sound the way I’d been hearing it in my head for years.
At the end of the day, listeners don’t connect with Cade because he’s AI. They connect because the voice serves the story. If people believe the emotion, believe the character, and believe the song, then the voice is doing exactly what it’s supposed to do.
This memory is vivid; and like a movie I can replay it anytime in my mind. I was scared shitless. Never having played in front of people. Boyce owned the crowd and I learned that making mistakes was okay, laugh it off and move on. You learn how to play when you play live. I was Boyces lead guitar player for 4 years until my sophomore year of college and I learned “how” to play guitar from that man.
I hope modern country music never loses its commitment to honest storytelling. Trends change, production styles evolve, new technology will continue to shape how music is made, but country music has always been at its best when it tells real stories about real people.
The songs that have stayed with me throughout my life weren’t necessarily the biggest hits, they were the ones that made me feel something. Songs about family, hard work, heartbreak, faith, small towns, sacrifice, and resilience. Those themes are timeless because they’re part of the my experience.
Whether it’s a traditional country ballad, a Southern rock anthem, or a song created with modern tools like AI vocals, what matters most to me is that the listener believes it. If the story is honest and the emotion is genuine, then country music is doing what it’s always done best: connecting people through shared experiences.
I’ll admit, I shed a tear when “Jesus Musta Been Country” was finished. It was the hand of God that helped write that song. The song “Daddy” was written 16 years ago, but the final verse only made sense in 2026 now that both of my sons are young men. So yes, the feeling of seeing these songs take their first steps is very emotional because each one of them is about real places, real people that shaped me into the person I am today.
In a way, it feels like watching old friends finally get their chance to speak. Some of these songs waited years, even decades, for the right moment and the right voice. They carried stories about people, places, heartbreak, hope, and life experiences that mattered to me. Now they’re finding their way into other people’s lives, and that’s extremely gratifying for me.
What I’ve learned is that a good song doesn’t ever expire. Sometimes it just has to wait for the world to catch up to it—or in my case, me, the songwriter, to finally find a way to let his songs be heard.
Great question btw. My humble pie opinion is the moment technology starts replacing the human perspective instead of supporting it, we all lose something important and its easily felt in the so called “Push Button Song” AI can create. That’s my line in the sand, that’s your AI Slop.
AI can generate words, but it hasn’t fallen in love, lived through a divorce, or watched a parent die from cancer, buried a friend, worked a difficult job, or stood in the “Middle of Nowhere” wondering what comes next. Those are human experiences and what gives songs meaning.
In my own work, I view AI is a tool, not the author. AI helps me find the voice that can carry those stories, but it didn’t create the reasons those stories needed to be told.
I think listeners can sense the difference. If technology helps artists express something genuine rather than manufacture something empty, I think it has a place in music.
The next generation of music producers, I hope they learn to write their own songs, to play the instruments, and if blessed, use their own voice.
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Discover the artist’s discography on Spotify.
Interview by Amelia Vandergast
Orly Bekiri may still be early in her career, but, in this interview, her answers already The rising young pop singer opened up about the playful confidence behind her single, Strawberry Girl, the sun-soaked memories folded into Dear Summer, and the way performing has helped her turn nerves into connection since the age of seven. She also reflects on growing up while writing about friendship, school, dreams and adventure in real time, keeping joy honest through difficult days, and what it feels like to hear strangers singing her songs back to her. Warm, ambitious and grounded, Bekiri has a unique way of making positivity feel personal.
“Strawberry Girl” showed a playful, bubbly, and confident side of me. When people see me perform, they mostly see the singing, but the song allowed me to share more of my personality. It reflects who I am as a positive, enthusiastic girl who loves music, imagination, and having fun. I think it showed listeners that I’m not only passionate about performing, but also about creating music that makes people smile, feel confident, and enjoy the moment.
Yes. I wanted to capture that feeling of summer that everyone looks forward to all year. When I think of summer, I think of vacation, freedom, warm sunny days, spending time with family and friends, and taking a break from school. There’s something special about those moments because they feel carefree and full of adventure. At the same time, summer always seems to go by so quickly, and before you know it, it’s over. I wanted “Dear Summer” to capture both the joy of those memories and the wish that those wonderful moments could last just a little longer.
Definitely. I try to focus on the things that bring people together and make life exciting. I think the world can be challenging sometimes, but there is also a lot of kindness, friendship, and beauty around us. Those are the things I enjoy writing and singing about.
I do. I started performing when I was seven years old, and I still remember one of my very first moments on stage. At first, I felt nervous, emotional, and a little shy because performing in front of people was something new for me. But once I started singing, I focused on the story and meaning of the song instead of my nerves. That helped me relax and express myself more freely. From that moment on, the stage began to feel like a place where I could be myself, share my emotions, and connect with people through music.
I think so. I’m experiencing these moments right now, so the feelings are very real and fresh. Whether it’s friendships, school, dreams, or adventures, I can relate to what I’m singing about. That helps me connect with the songs in a genuine way.
I think everyone has difficult, awkward, or confusing days, and I do too. Music is one of the ways I stay positive. I don’t try to pretend everything is perfect, but I like focusing on hope, happiness, and the things that make me grateful. I’m also someone who is inspired by the world around me. Whether it’s people, experiences, nature, music, or everyday moments, I always find inspiration in what I see, learn, and create. That’s where a lot of the joy in my music comes from. I hope my songs can encourage others to focus on the positive things in life too.
One of the most exciting moments was seeing people I had never met singing along to my songs and leaving messages online. It was amazing to realize that music I recorded could reach people in different places and make them feel something. That was a really special moment for me. I also love hearing encouraging feedback from listeners. Sometimes people compare me to artists I admire, like Ariana Grande or Taylor Swift, and while I know I’m still at the beginning of my journey, those comments are incredibly heartwarming. Knowing that people see potential in me and connect with my music motivates me to keep working hard and growing as an artist.
I hope people see someone who stays true to herself, works hard, and brings positivity through music. I want to keep growing as a singer and songwriter while creating songs that people can connect with. I also hope to bring something unique through my own style, creativity, and perspective as an artist. Most of all, I want people to connect with my music in a genuine way and feel inspired to be themselves. If I can make people smile, feel understood, or brighten their day through my songs, that would mean a lot to me.
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Dig into Orly Bekiri’s discography on Spotify.
Interview by Amelia Vandergast
True AfterDARK has seen the music industry from angles most artists only hear rumours about. As a Sync Representative for Sony Music, an A&R Representative for Warner Records Revolution and the founder of AfterDARK Records, she understands how songs travel through media, strategy and artist development before they ever reach the public. In this interview, she reflects on stepping from the back end of major-label success into her own singer-songwriter career, passing 1 million streams after launching in August 2025, and turning experience into a practical model for independent artists. She also opens up about ownership, patience, emotional connection, sync-minded songwriting and why momentum belongs to artists willing to build with discipline. Read on if you want the secret to making it in the industry.
Working as a Sync Representative for Sony Music and an A&R Representative for Warner Records Revolution gave me a rare opportunity to see how the music business really operates behind the scenes. I learned what gets songs placed, what helps artists break through, and how careers are strategically built. But over time, I realized music is the vehicle, but the mission is larger. My purpose is to prove that artists can build meaningful, sustainable careers on their own terms and leave behind a blueprint that helps the next generation do the same.
In August 2025, I decided to put my own voice at the center because I wanted to build something bigger than an artist career. I wanted to create a real-world blueprint for independent artists. Rather than teaching theory, I wanted to lead by example. By documenting the process and sharing what works, my goal is to empower independent artists to take control of their careers without waiting for permission from the traditional industry.
What surprised me most was how different the experience feels when your name is attached to the outcome. As a sync and A&R executive, I could analyze songs, campaigns, and artist development objectively. Success and setbacks were part of the job. But when it’s your own music, every stream, every playlist, every comment, and every opportunity feels personal.
What also surprised me was how much noise independent artists are expected to navigate. Talent is important, but talent alone isn’t enough. You’re simultaneously a songwriter, marketer, content creator, strategist, analyst, and entrepreneur. It’s easy to see why so many artists feel overwhelmed. The biggest lesson has been that success isn’t about avoiding judgment; it’s about staying committed to your vision despite it.
Ooh, this is a good one (LOL)! Reaching 1 million streams was an incredible milestone, and I’m grateful for every listener who helped make it possible. But more than feeling like a finish line, it felt like validation that the blueprint was working. I’m wired like this (giggle).
Of course, there’s a sense of confirmation that comes with seeing people connect with your music. As an independent artist, you spend a lot of time testing ideas, making decisions with limited resources, and trusting your instincts. Hitting 1 million streams showed me that it’s possible to build meaningful momentum without following the traditional path.
What surprised me, though, was that the milestone didn’t make me feel like I had arrived. If my mission is to create a roadmap for other independent artists, then every result becomes data, every campaign becomes a case study, and every lesson becomes something worth sharing. The stakes aren’t higher because of the number itself; they’re higher because more artists are paying attention to what’s possible.
I’ve never viewed success as a destination. To me, 1 million streams isn’t proof that I’ve made it, if anything It’s proof that independent artists can build real audiences when they combine great music with intentional strategy (Blueprint). That’s what excites me the most. The milestone wasn’t the end of an experiment. It was confirmation that the experiment is worth continuing.
I’ve been told for years that I have a great sync ear, and honestly, that’s probably one of the biggest advantages I brought with me when I transitioned into being an artist. After spending so much time evaluating songs for film, television, commercials, and media opportunities, you develop an instinct for what makes a song connect on a deeper level.
What surprised me was realizing that my sync background wasn’t something I had to turn on or off; it had already become part of who I am as a songwriter. I naturally write with strong cinematic soundscapes and emotional moments because that’s what I’ve always been drawn to. I’m constantly thinking about how a song makes people feel and what story it’s telling.
Ultimately, my experience in sync reinforced something I’ve always believed: the most powerful songs are the ones that create an emotional connection. If you can make someone see a memory, feel a moment, or relive an experience in three minutes, you’ve already done the hardest part.
The first lesson I learned was to treat my music like both art and intellectual property. Every song is an asset. Understanding publishing, master ownership, metadata, licensing, and royalty collection from the beginning can save years of frustration and lost income. Too many artists focus exclusively on creation and neglect the infrastructure that allows them to build a sustainable business.
An equally important lesson was understanding that there is no single breakthrough moment. Most sustainable careers are built through hundreds of small wins stacked on top of one another. That’s one of the reasons I’m so passionate about creating a blueprint for independent artists. I want people to see that success isn’t magic…it’s a system. It’s the result of making good decisions consistently over a long period of time.
Through my work in sync, A&R, and artist development, I noticed that many independent artists weren’t failing because they lacked talent. They were failing because they lacked clarity, strategy, and access to practical information that connected the creative and business sides of their careers.
At its core, AfterDARK Records was built because I saw too many talented artists working harder than ever while moving slower than ever. I wanted to create a platform that not only provides opportunities but also serves as a blueprint for navigating the modern music industry. If I can help artists spend less time chasing noise and more time building sustainable careers, then the platform is accomplishing exactly what it was created to do.
The truth is, music never leaves my head. Ever. I’m probably the worst person to ask about work-life balance because my brain is constantly analyzing songs, hearing melodies, thinking about marketing angles, imagining sync placements, or coming up with ideas at two o’clock in the morning. It’s just how I’m wired.
I’ve always been an overachiever. If I’m interested in something, I don’t casually do it, I dive all the way in. For me, helping artists develop their careers while building my own doesn’t feel like two separate jobs. It’s all part of the same mission.
At the end of the day, I don’t separate artist, executive, strategist, or mentor. They’re all part of who I am. Music isn’t something I clock in and out of; it’s a permanent resident in my brain (LOL).
If there’s one thing I want independent artists to understand, it’s that your mindset is your greatest competitive advantage. Talent matters. Great songs matter. Strategy matters. But none of those things can reach their full potential without the mental discipline to stay committed long after the excitement wears off.
After spending years on both sides of the business, I can tell you that real momentum is usually built through consistency, patience, and a relentless commitment to the long game. The artists who succeed aren’t always the most talented. They’re often the ones who refuse to quit when progress feels invisible.
Don’t just collect information. Don’t just consume content. Build. Experiment. Adapt. Stay patient. Stay consistent. Stay focused. The gap between where you are and where you want to be is often much smaller than it appears. It’s usually bridged by persistence, discipline, and the willingness to keep moving forward when others stop.
Momentum isn’t something you wait for…It’s something you create. Think about that.
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Discover more about the sonic firebrand via her official website.
Interview by Amelia Vandergast
Kingdumb’s latest hit, Weird, takes Bhangra accents, DnB pressure and deadpan oddball confidence, then fires them through the mind of a self-described cool nerd who has learned to make life outside the box feel like a strength. In this interview, he opens up about Indian heritage, UK club influence, high-output production, BBC, Spotify and Adidas support, and the self-belief sparked by working with a manager connected to billions of streams. He also speaks with real candour about mental health, discipline, spirituality, exercise, community expectations and why music has been far more than a pipe dream. Behind the ridiculousness sits serious focus, careful energy, and an artist who knows exactly who his people are.
It’s literally weird, I’ve gone through stages of massive extrovert to introvert and then back to extrovert at different points in my life. At times I’m clumsy, I tell it how it is, and am not scared of saying things that would conflict with people’s fixed beliefs. This sometimes puts me outside the box or in a box that doesn’t fit with conventional norms, but I’m ok with that coz the clever part of me understands that I think fairly logically. I’m pretty ok with looking or sounding like a goofball, because that’s me I guess. But honestly I am just a cool nerd, and the coolest type of nerd is a musician!
Thanks, that’s a hard line to follow. With eastern culture I take whatever feels right for the track. I love the sound of sitar, tabla and bansuri, so they do feature in my music – I just use them in an way that they wouldn’t normally be used, almost treating it like accenting my tracks rather than being the focal point. In terms of Western sound, I take influence from UK music. I have a. Love affair with drum and bass, so alot of my style comes through from that genre.
I try to get in the studio at least twice a week, normally three times. Each time im in the studio I’ll spend around 2-3 hours creating the bare bones of a track. Every so often I’ll go back to stuff I made before and see if it still resonates or if I vibe with it. If it’s worth spending more time on, I will spend the time. In terms of routine somehow I go into a different space when I start production. Sometimes a track will write itself, sometimes I need a break to muster creative juice. A walk or grabbing a coffee helps with the latter.
Good question. It was more like a positive affirmation really. I kind of view it as reassurance. I didn’t always think I was amazing, in fact looking back, my production at times was shoddy technically. One of the biggest things though, that these platforms have given me, is having credibility to show to other people. It’s not easy to get but if you have a few different places supporting you it creates momentum and other people have more belief in what you’re doing. I think alot of people around me thought I was chasing a pipe dream, but music is more to me than that, it’s a way of life, it’s therapy, it’s joy.
Another good question. I think having someone of that calibre really helps you believe in yourself, which I struggled with silently for years. P.s. I’m not THAT weird!! Joking aside though, he helped me realise my own potential and that actually, I’ve pretty much got everything locked down creatively. In terms of thinking bigger he’s believed in me more than any other person I know. And that is monumental, especially when in your community (I have Indian heritage) doesn’t see this thing I do, as anything of any real value. So when people used to ask me when I will give up, or to settle for less in life, I remind myself that they’re projecting their own fears or limiting beliefs on me. And they can do one!
Again, it gave me a level of self-belief. I knew at that point I was capable of turning heads. I had been turning heads for a while but this was a new level at that specific time in my life. This session was good because, honestly, I was just being myself, and that made the connection and session authentic. Looking back, this MC (MC DT) was super kind to me and really down to Earth. I have learnt over the years that not everyone is like that, so I’m very careful these days with who and where I put my energy into.
Through all these years, music was my lifeline. It was there when I was happy, there when I was sad, there when I felt there was nothing left for me in life. So I owe music everything. When I couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel, music showed me it was there. I always tell people that doing music creates flow state, and someone actually told me that flow state repairs the brain. Also, Indian teachings tell us that flow is a state close to divinity, so it’s almost sacred.
People think I’m living in Dreamland. They think I spend too much time on it. They probably also think I should stay stuck in the rat race and earn more money in a stable job. They probably think I just laze around tinkering with buttons. Like you say, it’s significantly more than that. No one actually knows the discipline side of things. I rarely drink, I don’t do drugs, I choose where I spend my time, I balance multiple spinning plates, I invest in myself, I make my environment conducive to all the things I want to do, I save time on small things to allow me to thrive where I want to thrive. I think misunderstanding sometimes is ignorance, or a lack of communication. If people are genuinely interested, they can ask! But I don’t let many people “in” these days, I know who my people are!
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Discover Kingdumb’s discography on Spotify.
For more info, head over to the artist’s official website.
Interview by Amelia Vandergast
VAN COUVER’s sophomore LP, Everything Will Work Out (Eventually), pulls 90s Brit-pop, early-2000s New York indie-rock, and post-punk tension into a record shaped by uncertainty, resilience, and hard-won optimism. In this interview, the band discuss how the album’s sound matured from their debut, how Interpol became part of their musical DNA without defining their identity, and how Everything You Were helped shape the record’s direction. They also reflect on writing through economic anxiety, social media distortion, fractured relationships, and the wider unease hanging over their generation. With autumn live dates planned across Switzerland and Italy, 2026 could be the year VAN COUVER grab a bigger slice of the cultural zeitgeist.
Our intention in making music has never been to bridge a gap between two musical genres or anything like that. Rather, I think it’s simply the natural result of the music we’ve always loved listening to, which now converges in our sound. You could say that this bridge between early-2000s New York indie rock and the British sound of the ’90s is something we only recognized in hindsight. And we liked it right from the start!
To be honest, we’ve never tried either to pay tribute to anyone or to imitate them. In fact, we’ve never even said to ourselves, “Let’s write an Interpol-style song” or anything like that. We’ve simply made our own music in the most spontaneous way possible, without any effort to emulate someone else. What we do comes very naturally to us, almost as if someone had decided that this is the kind of music we were meant to make.
That said, we’re also convinced that the music we’ve fed on throughout our lives has undoubtedly shaped the way we understand and perceive music, even if only on a subconscious level. There’s a saying that goes, “You are what you eat.” Well, to answer your question, we’ve definitely eaten a lot of Interpol! Haha!
The most significant moment—or rather, the key turning point in the writing of the album—was the birth of Everything You Were. We started from an instrumental demo that, at least on the surface, seemed to move slightly away from what we had done before, particularly in terms of the guitar work.
Once we brought the demo into the rehearsal room, the vocal melody came almost naturally and fit perfectly on top of it. It immediately became one of the cornerstones of the album and, in a way, helped define the artistic direction of the songs that followed, such as Lost & Found, It’s On Me, and Wrong.
A lot—really, a lot—has changed since our debut album. Actually, rather than changed, I’d say our sound has evolved.
From a songwriting perspective, one of the biggest developments was our effort to improve the dynamics of the songs. We wanted to better understand the different moments within each track so that every section could deliver its full impact. You know, it’s relatively easy to come up with a good riff, a catchy melody, or a great bass-and-drums groove, but writing a great song is about much more than finding a good riff.
Beyond that, the guitars underwent a significant stylistic evolution. The general idea was to play with moments of contrast between the lead and rhythm guitars, as well as moments where the two would work in complete symbiosis and cohesion. This approach allowed us to create a greater sense of depth throughout the album and to develop interesting interactions with the other instruments, including the vocals. The result is a record that feels far more mature than our debut, both in terms of composition and arrangement. Most importantly, all of this growth and evolution has taken place without compromising our musical identity.
Last but certainly not least, there was also a major evolution in the sound design itself, something we worked on extensively. While the debut album had a more blended and, in some ways, more “raw” sound, this new record is more cohesive and solid. Every instrument has its own space, yet together they create a broad, unified sonic landscape. At the same time, we’ve preserved that energetic, bold indie-rock spirit that has always been at the heart of our music.
First of all, we want to make it clear that we are not life gurus. We simply make music. We tell stories—or whatever we feel like telling at a given moment. So we didn’t set out to write an album around a specific theme. The songs, including the lyrics, came together quite spontaneously. And in this case as well, it was only at the end that we realized a common thread had emerged.
In a way, Everything Will Work Out (Eventually) reflects the struggles of our generation: we grew up with high expectations for the future, only to go through economic crises, pandemics, wars, and a constant sense of uncertainty. There’s this feeling that some promises got lost along the way. However, the crisis is not only material—it is, above all, human. In a world where reality is increasingly distorted by social media, human relationships are especially affected, giving rise to toxic dynamics (both romantic and otherwise) and a broader sense of generational unease.
Despite this unsettling, almost dystopian backdrop, a way out is still possible through the attitude of those who choose to believe in it anyway, to keep going and stand firm through the storm. That attitude is what truly matters. In some way, the songs on the record all relate to this mindset, and they always preserve a glimpse of hope: everything will work out (eventually).
Until now, we’ve been pretty focused on the release of the album. At the moment, we’re looking for passionate people who believe in what we do and can help us bring our music around the world. That said, we’re also working on a few live dates to present the record this autumn across Switzerland and Italy.
The goal is simple: to consolidate who we’ve become as a band and keep writing music that truly represents us, without forcing anything. And then yes, to take this journey as far as possible, beyond Switzerland as well, if the right opportunity comes along. Who knows—maybe even over to you in the UK! Haha.
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Stream Everything Will Work Out Eventually on Spotify now.
Follow VAN COUVER on Instagram.
Interview by Amelia Vandergast
In this exclusive interview, breakthrough artist Johnny B spoke from the point where survival starts feeling too close to sleepwalking, and revealed how This Is Your Life became a renegade sonic awakening. The independent Greek artist built the single around authenticity, self-responsibility and the refusal to follow trends just to fit into an industry that rewards imitation. He opened up about the personal epiphany behind the track, the cinematic alt-rock and dark Americana atmosphere shaped with Daniele Macchi, and the blues-rooted honesty that runs beneath his writing on love, inner struggle, confession and hope. He also reflects on building his path step by step, from acoustic performances to international promotion, while shaping a darker, more filmic future.
I think it came from a period where I realised I was living more on autopilot than with real intention. I was doing what I had to do, surviving the day, but somewhere inside I knew I wanted more honesty, more freedom, and more meaning. This Is Your Life came from that moment of waking up and saying: if this is my life, then I need to take responsibility for it and stop waiting for permission.
That darker sound felt very natural to me because the message of the song is not light or decorative. It is about facing yourself. I wanted the music to feel like a road at night, something raw, cinematic and a little dangerous, but still full of movement. I love rock, blues, Americana and that emotional heaviness where the sound feels human, not perfect. For me, that atmosphere made the message stronger.
It can be difficult, because when you are independent, you sometimes feel pressure to sound like what is already working. But I also believe that identity is the only real thing you have as an artist. I am Greek, I have my own accent, my own background, my own struggles, and I do not want to hide that. Trends change all the time, but if you build something honest, people can feel it. I would rather grow slower with my own sound than move faster by becoming someone else.
Mostly I was writing to myself. But when a song is honest, it becomes bigger than you. I think many people reach a point where they realise they are just getting through life, not really living it. So the song is like a conversation with myself, but also with anyone who feels trapped in routine, fear or expectations. It is not written from a place of judgment. It is more like a wake-up call.
Daniele helped bring out the cinematic side of the song. The original feeling was already there, but he understood how to build the atmosphere around it and make it feel bigger without losing the raw emotion. He gave the track space, tension and depth. I think he helped the song become more like a scene from a film, not just a rock track.
It is very important. I am drawn to music that feels human, even when it is imperfect. Blues and roots music have that honesty. They carry pain, love, hope and confession in a very simple but powerful way. I try to write from that place too. Even when the sound becomes heavier or more cinematic, I want the heart of the song to stay raw and real.
It has taught me that you cannot wait for everything to be perfect. You have to start with what you have and keep moving. Some days you feel confident, other days you question everything, but the important thing is to continue. Being independent means you have to believe in the song before anyone else does. It has made me stronger, more patient, and more connected to why I started making music in the first place.
I want to build a world around this sound. More acoustic sessions, more intimate live performances, and songs that carry that same cinematic, honest energy. I like the idea of combining dark rock, Americana, blues and storytelling in a way that feels personal but also powerful live. This Is Your Life feels like the beginning of a direction I want to explore deeper with future releases.
If you’re yet to hear This Is Your Life, dig in on Spotify.
Interview by Amelia Vandergast