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Interview

Itz Namo Interview: Heartbreak Wires, Open Scars and the Spark Behind FLATLINE!

Through his music and this interview, Itz Namo brings raw feeling, lived experience and a clear refusal to shrink his ambition into something more acceptable. Here, the Grand Rapids artist opens up about the personal history behind FLATLINE!, tracing its heartbreak, lovebombing and confusion back to loneliness, emotional setbacks and the hunger to turn pain into something lasting. He also reflects on his family’s musical roots, the garage rock and 80s-leaning sound that fuels his songwriting, and the moment live performance shifted his approach to melody and crowd connection.

Welcome to A&R Factory, Itz Namo. With FLATLINE! out in the world, we’re glad to have you with us. For anyone discovering you through FLATLINE!, how would you introduce yourself as both an artist and a person behind the songs?

Hey, I’m Itz Namo, but my real name is Aiden. I’m a trans man who looks into my past or what I’m currently going through right now, and I’m the person who wrote and sing my all into these songs! I was born in Grand Rapids, Michigan and from my mom’s side of the family were all mariachis. I never met them but she always told me stories about them and their gigs that they had in Mexico and now i’m trying to keep this music tradition going but not as a mariachi band but as an independent artist to spice things up!

FLATLINE! covers heartbreak, lovebombing, confusion and falling hard for someone. What was going on in your life that pushed those themes to the surface so strongly on this record?

For a long time, I felt alone. The failures that I’ve gone through situation-wise or relationship-wise I used to think that in order to be happy in life was to find that special someone but now that I’ve been alone in this journey for a long while now, I’ve realized that I need to chase my dreams and accomplish them.

There’s a real emotional push and pull in the way you describe the album. When you were writing the lyrics, how did you decide what to say plainly and what to leave a little more open-ended?

When I write my lyrics I sometimes just go with the flow of what I’m feeling on that day. I sometimes do like a Kendrick Lamar lyricism type of vibe but also a bit more of Taylor Swift because I can’t stop talking about these relationships that I’ve gone through.

You’ve said you want your music to carry a garage rock edge, an indie feel, and the spirit of 80s rock with a modern twist. What pulls you towards that sound, and which parts of it feel most natural to you?

I want people to have a nostalgia feeling when listening to my songs I feel like a lot of music back then had a ton of meaning and that’s why people listen to it still because they can relate to someone talking about the things that they went through but now and days a lot of people make songs just for a quick money grab when in reality music holds a deeper message.

Your songs sound like they’re built to be sung back in a room full of people. When you’re writing melodies, are you thinking about that live connection from the start, or does that come later?

At first, I wasn’t thinking about a live connection, but after performing for the Eastown Street Fair at the Mulligans Pub I sang “Get Loose” and the crowd was amazing, singing along the chorus but then I realized after that I need to make more songs that the crowd can get more engaged in singing along.

Some of the album also deals with people doubting you and telling you to give up on music for a regular job. How did that pressure shape your mindset, and did it light more of a fire under you creatively?

I showed My favorite teacher in highschool my music and he told me I shouldn’t chase my dream to become a music artist and to instead work in construction or work in business, it was that day that I knew I wanted to prove him wrong so I started watching steve lacy ted talk on youtube over and over again and watched twooba and other youtubers on how to make music on the Garageband app I wanted to show people that you don’t need expensive equipment to make music but to use what you can around you.

Performing at Pyramid Scheme in Grand Rapids must have felt huge, especially knowing the names that have played there before you. What did that moment mean to you personally, and did it change the way you saw your place in music?

Quick shoutout to Knorberg band for sharing that stage on that night! They didn’t have to bring me up there but they did! And also Driving In The Bike Lane for giving me a free ticket to watch their show at the pyramid scheme and giving me advice on how to perform, Anyways! Honestly it was a big accomplishment to me, one of my biggest idols that I listened to since I was a teenager, Mac Demarco was singing on that very stage where I was standing. And seeing the way the crowd move with the music makes me wanna do better songs that more people can feel good listening to!

With a deluxe edition on the way featuring other artists, what can you tell us about the collaborations, and what sides of FLATLINE! will those extra tracks open up?

This is honestly my first time doing a deluxe album with collaborations but we have a few collabs in there featuring Z!pt!e, Animal Fries, and Emjaay that you all will be hearing from soon! And also a few unreleased songs from yours truly! And I know that this album will open up a new wave of listeners for the audience to check out their music and be prepared to hear more heartbreaks and bangers on the deluxe album! 🙂

Stream and connect with Itz Namo on all major platforms via this link. 

Interview by Amelia Vanderast

Tristan Blaskowitz Interview: Lanterns in the Machinery of Memory

Tristan Blaskowitz is the kind of artist who treats creativity as world-building by shaping sound, story and image with the same restless imagination that first took root in childhood play, gaming and long hours spent absorbing the records and films that filled his early life in Germany. In this interview, he reflects on the path from self-taught composition and early online releases to a body of work that stretches across film scores, concept albums, neo-classical arrangements, electronica and progressive rock. We discuss the formative power of study, the emotional and cinematic language running through his catalogue, the meeting point between organic instrumentation and electronic texture, and the themes of memory, connection and introspection that continue to surface in his work. It is a conversation full of insight into both the artist and the mind behind the music.

Tristan Blaskowitz, we’re thrilled to welcome you to A&R Factory to take a closer look at the aspects of your life that have allowed the expansive scope of your creativity to take shape. 

You work as a composer, pianist, producer and filmmaker, which is a seriously wide creative scope, so what came first for you: the urge to write music, the pull towards film, or the need to build entire worlds from scratch?

I’ve always enjoyed creating something new — something that didn’t exist before — or recontextualising existing elements into new worlds. As a child, I spent a lot of time playing with figures and Playmobil sets, inventing scenarios and stories in my head and improvising constantly.

My path into filmmaking came through gaming, which has always been one of my biggest passions alongside creativity itself. I spent a lot of time playing The Movies by Lionhead Studios and working with others in the German community on collaborative machinima projects. Without really realising it at the time, it planted the desire to eventually create real films myself.

A few years later I began learning piano, and shortly after that I started teaching myself composition and music production. From there, both film and music evolved from playful hobbies into serious creative pursuits, eventually leading me to study Time-Based Media for both my Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees and shaping my professional path.

Growing up in Germany, what were the earliest sounds, records, films or experiences that shaped your imagination and pushed you towards this kind of expansive, genre-crossing creativity?

A lot of my musical taste was shaped by my father. I still remember standing in his room as a child, surrounded by massive shelves filled with hundreds of vinyl records. He introduced me to a lot of music from the 60s, 70s and 80s, and I naturally gravitated towards that era. I never really connected with typical pop or radio music growing up.

The same was true for film. My father exposed me to many older films early on, which also influenced my sense of humour — often quite dark — shaped by things like Otto, Monty Python and Mel Brooks.

I’ve always been drawn to sci-fi and fantasy worlds in general, whether in films or games, and that constantly fuelled my imagination.

One of my biggest inspirations is everything surrounding The War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells. As a child, I played the PC game Jeff Wayne’s Musical Version of The War of the Worlds, and I was deeply fascinated by its soundtrack. Later, I discovered the original 1978 concept album, which completely changed my perception of what music could be — not just individual songs, but long-form narrative works.

That experience led me to develop a strong love for concept albums and prog rock. I think I’ve always been attracted to media that breaks boundaries, challenges expectations, and was innovative in its time. That mindset still shapes how freely I approach music today.

Your catalogue moves through neo-classical, electronica, prog-rock, ambient and pop, which suggests you’ve never been interested in sitting neatly in one lane, so when did you realise your artistic identity would come from range rather than restriction?

This became very clear to me during my studies, when I started receiving specific compositional assignments that forced me to explore new styles, instrumentation and techniques.

I had to learn how to compose to picture, or how to adapt my writing to the needs of game designers and directors. It was no longer just about making music that satisfied me, but about serving a broader artistic vision. That was challenging at first, but incredibly formative, and it significantly expanded my musical palette.

In 2013, I released a prog-rock album called Winter, built around synthesizers, organs, Mellotron, guitars, bass and drums. In 2014, I shifted toward orchestral and classical writing for short films such as Cupcake and Night. Shortly after, I composed my first fully orchestral work for the video game Bedtime Story.

Over time, I was constantly pushed into new styles and contexts. The artist I am today is essentially the sum of all those experiences. I’m also someone who naturally embraces change, spontaneity and unpredictability, and I believe that directly feeds into my music.

You’ve independently released everything from video game scores to concept albums and more experimental pieces, so how has working outside the spotlight shaped your discipline, your self-belief, and the way you measure success?

I actually started uploading music as early as 14 on my personal website. Looking back, it wasn’t particularly strong — and I couldn’t really sing either — but I still chose to release it. Those early albums are thankfully no longer available.

At that time, I was both insecure and introverted, but also curious enough to share my work publicly, even knowing that someone from school might find it.

A major shift happened during my studies, where I received my first real external feedback. For the first time, my music was being evaluated by an actual audience — professors, collaborators, and fellow students who engaged directly with the projects I was writing for.

It’s difficult to separate personal growth from simply getting older, but I do know that I’ve become much more confident in what I do. I now have a clearer understanding of my strengths and my artistic direction.

For me, success has always meant staying true to my intentions and actually completing what I set out to do. That’s why I released music even in my teenage years despite its flaws — because the act of finishing and sharing it mattered more than perfection. That principle still guides me today, beyond music as well.

There’s a strong cinematic and emotional thread running through the way you describe your music, so what usually sparks a piece for you: a visual idea, a narrative concept, a specific feeling, or something more abstract?

Many of my pieces are rooted in emotion and lived experience. Often it starts with a melody, a motif or a rhythmic idea, which only later evolves into a complete composition.

I’ve never been a big fan of singles or fragmented release strategies. A standalone track often feels like only a glimpse of a larger artistic vision. In contrast, I’m much more interested in long-form works and concept albums.

“Short Stories” is a good example of this. On one hand, the title refers to the short form of the individual tracks, while the tracklist itself is a collection of previously unreleased pieces that essentially formed a kind of portfolio from my studies. At the same time, a subtle narrative frame is created through the two tracks “The Campfire” and “Back at the Campfire”, with the singer representing me, guiding the listener into the musical world of the storyteller. That storyteller is ultimately myself, simply presenting the worlds of my compositions and soundtracks to the listener. In a way, it’s a creative approach of saying: “Here are a number of pieces in different styles, and I’ll show you what I do” — without it feeling too direct or overly blunt.

Naturally, film and video game music already provide strong narrative frameworks, which makes them a rich source of inspiration — whether through characters, places, emotions or specific atmospheres.

Sometimes pieces also emerge from assignments. For example, Elevacator was created during a “Sound & Vision” course, where we explored musique concrète and sampling. I recorded sounds at a train station — escalators, elevators, buttons, doors — without knowing exactly what the final piece would become. It evolved organically into a structured composition, eventually accompanied by a video and installation shown at the university.

Another example is Spiral, written for a dadaist silent film during my Master’s studies. The only requirement was to score the film. Despite its abstract nature, I chose a more structured and melodic approach, while still incorporating elements of chance — including a brief cough of mine as a sudden interruption before the climax returns.

Your work combines piano and strings with analogue and digital synths in a way that feels very intentional, so what draws you to that meeting point between organic instrumentation and electronic texture?

What fascinates me most about this combination is the sense of timelessness it can create. Piano and strings feel inherently warm, human and emotionally immediate.

Synthesizers complement this in a very natural way. Especially analogue sounds can carry a similar warmth, but they also introduce something unfamiliar — an almost infinite sonic palette that allows for contrast without losing the emotional core.

I’ve always been drawn to all kinds of keyboard instruments — not only piano, but also synthesizers, Mellotron, organ, harpsichord and others. Since I usually start composing directly in the DAW rather than in notation, sound and texture are integral to the composition from the very beginning.

You’ve said that conceptual storytelling and thematic depth sit at the centre of your projects, so what kinds of themes keep pulling you back creatively, and what do they reveal about you as both an artist and a person?

Love and human connection are definitely recurring themes in my work, but often seen through a reflective or even nostalgic lens. I’m very drawn to moments that have already passed — the feeling of looking back at something meaningful and trying to understand why it stayed with you.

There’s also a strong focus on inner dialogue: questioning yourself, dealing with uncertainty, and the idea of personal growth not being a straight line, but something more fragmented and recursive.

I tend to process a lot of things through overthinking, which can be exhausting at times, but it also makes me very aware of emotional nuance. Music becomes a way to structure those thoughts and turn them into something tangible.

As someone with an existing body of work and a clear vision for where you want to go next, what kind of collaborators, industry relationships and opportunities would feel genuinely right for this stage of your career?

At this stage, I’m looking for collaborations that can help bridge the gap between the work that already exists and the audience it hasn’t fully reached yet. I have a substantial back catalogue that I believe has strong long-term potential, but it currently lacks the right marketing and distribution support to really find its listeners.

Ideally, that would be a label or partner that understands how to build and sustain a catalogue over time, rather than focusing only on isolated releases.

At the same time, I have several finished or near-finished works that are waiting for the right conditions to be brought to the stage — including a fully written musical that has not yet been performed due to production costs and logistical constraints.

My goal is to work with people who can help unlock both sides: giving existing music the reach it deserves, while also enabling new and more ambitious live formats with the right resources and collaborators.

Connect with Tristan Blaskowitz on Instagram and stream their sound on all major platforms, including Spotify and SoundCloud. 

Interview by Amelia Vandergast

THRESHLD Interview: Signals from the Faultline Between Flesh and Machine

THRESHLD was born to transcend the artifices of the typical musical project; it feels like a coded disturbance pushed through speakers, screens and nerve endings alike. In this interview, we speak with the Baltimore-based artist behind the transmission-driven concept about the personal rupture that set everything in motion after a pandemic-era job loss, and the influences that shaped this stark, immersive vision. From the philosophy of “signal before meaning” to the collision between mechanical force and exposed vocal intensity, THRESHLD opens up about identity, control, interference and the uneasy structures shaping modern life. The conversation also moves through the project’s visual language, hybrid live format and the discipline of building an independent world with real depth. For anyone drawn to industrial sonics, conceptual weight and art that leaves a mark before explanation arrives, this is one to read in full.

THRESHLD feels rooted in an idea as much as a sound, so where did the project first begin for you on a personal level, and what part of your life pushed you towards building something so conceptually loaded?

This project started for me during 2020, around the COVID pandemic, after being laid off from my job at the Harley-Davidson York plant. It forced a reset. Music and art had always been a huge part of my life—tattoos, painting, playing in local bands around the Baltimore area—but this was the point where it shifted from something I did into something I needed to build.

What pushed it into something more conceptually driven came from a mix of that moment and my early influences—artists like The Prodigy, Nine Inch Nails, Rammstein, Marilyn Manson—projects that weren’t just music, but full experiences. Seeing how they created something cinematic and immersive changed how I viewed everything.

THRESHLD came out of that pressure point. Not to fit into anything, but to build something that reveals instead of conforms—something that carries weight before it’s even understood.

You describe THRESHLD as a transmission-driven project rather than a traditional band. What does that structure give you emotionally, creatively and philosophically that a more conventional setup never could?

Calling it a transmission removes the limits of a traditional band structure. It keeps the project open—able to evolve, shift, and expand in multiple directions without being boxed into a single identity or genre.

Creatively, it creates space for progression. Emotionally, it feels more honest because nothing is forced into a format. Philosophically, it turns the music into something that’s received rather than just performed.

It also leaves the door open for collaboration, new themes, and development into something much broader than just music. THRESHLD isn’t a fixed form—it’s something that can grow into whatever it needs to become.

The phrase “signal before meaning” carries the potential for some pioneering sonic philosophy. What does that idea mean to you, and how does it shape the way you write, arrange and present your music?

“Signal before meaning” is more than a phrase—it’s become a core philosophy behind everything in THRESHLD.

It’s about impact before explanation. There are things you feel immediately that you can’t fully articulate, and those tend to be the most real. We approach the music as a conduit for that—letting it come through without forcing it into expectations or predefined structures.

Working this way removes the pressure of trying to make something “fit.” Writing, arranging, and presenting the music becomes less like a task and more like something natural—something that exists on its own before it’s analyzed.

There’s no missing the tension between the industrial, electronic framework of the sound and the emotional force in the vocal delivery. What draws you to that friction, and what does it allow you to express about yourself?

That contrast is intentional. The industrial and electronic elements represent structure—something mechanical, controlled—while the vocals sit against that as something raw and human.

That tension reflects something bigger. It mirrors the duality in human systems—social, political, psychological—where control and chaos are constantly pushing against each other.

It allows me to express a deeper level of discontent while still existing inside the machine itself. You’re both inside it and aware of it at the same time. That friction is where most of the emotion comes from.

A lot of your themes circle identity, control, hidden signals and interference. Were those ideas born from specific experiences, thought patterns, or wider observations about the world you’re moving through?

These themes come from a wide range of sources. Psychology and sociology studies, books, films—especially sci-fi, horror, philosophy, religion—all of it feeds into the thematic layer of THRESHLD.

But a big part of it is personal. There’s a growing awareness that a lot of what we see—identity, behavior, even thought—is shaped or filtered in ways people don’t fully recognize.

Mental health being such a major focus now has made that even more visible. People are starting to realize things aren’t as stable or understood as they once thought.

THRESHLD sits in that space—between what’s presented and what’s actually there. It’s not about defining it. It’s about exposing it.

The visual identity of THRESHLD feels inseparable from the music. What role does imagery play in the project, and how consciously do you build the aesthetic language around each release?

The visual side is inseparable from the music. It’s part of the same signal.

Every release is built with a visual language that reinforces the atmosphere of the sound. Whether it’s distortion, glitch textures, or symbolic elements, it all contributes to the same world.

It’s not about repeating imagery—it’s about maintaining a consistent feeling. The music creates movement, the visuals give it form.

Your hybrid DJ and live performance approach gives the project a different kind of presence. What shifts for you when you perform in that format, and how do you want the audience to feel inside that environment?

Live, everything becomes more immediate. There’s less separation between the sound and the audience.

The structure is controlled through backing elements, but the delivery is fluid. It shifts depending on the moment, the energy, the environment.

The goal isn’t just to perform songs—it’s to create something physical. Something people feel through the low end, the pacing, the tension. If it’s working, it doesn’t feel like a performance—it feels like something happening to them.

You’re building THRESHLD independently, with a strong sense of world-building around it. What have you learnt about yourself through that process, and where do you see the project heading next in terms of releases, performance and expansion?

Building this independently forces clarity. There’s no buffer—you see what connects and what doesn’t in real time. It sharpens the direction and removes anything that isn’t necessary.

Right now, the focus is on expanding reach while pushing the identity deeper—more releases, more refined live execution, and stronger integration between sound and visuals.

The goal isn’t just growth. It’s immersion.

Making each release, each performance, feel like stepping further into something—not just hearing it.

Connect with THRESHLD and stream their sound on all major platforms via this link. 

Interview by Amelia Vandergast

CRAZY JAMES Interview: Inside the Mind of an Independent Rapper Building His Own Lane

There’s real conviction at the heart of this interview with CRAZY JAMES, whose approach to music has shifted from pressure and expectation towards confidence, control, and creative freedom. As he reflects on the making of Make You Blush, he opens up about the moment his belief in himself sharpened in the booth, why technical ability means nothing without feeling, and how replay value matters just as much as first impact.

The conversation also digs into the independence behind UNSIGNED & UNSPOILT, the discipline required to keep evolving, and the bigger ambitions shaping his next moves. From monthly releases and long-term goals to deeper material still waiting in the wings, this interview offers a sharp look at an artist with range, self-belief, and plenty more still to reveal.

You’ve said this year is about growth, both in how you’re shaping your catalogue and how you’re positioning yourself as an artist. What feels different about your mindset right now compared to the version of you that put out earlier releases?

I think the biggest difference now is I’m a lot more relaxed about it all. Before, I put a lot of pressure on every release, how it would perform and how it would be received, and that can mess with your head creatively. Now, I just focus on getting better every time I step in the booth.

At the same time, my belief hasn’t changed. If anything, it’s stronger. I genuinely believe I’m one of the best rappers doing this, and I’ll keep levelling up until I’ve achieved what I set out to do. The end goal is still the same, music full-time. That never moves.

What has changed is how I see myself as a writer. I’m not boxed into one sound anymore. I can write a rap track one day, a blues record the next, even folk if I want to. That freedom has opened everything up.

“Make You Blush” sounds like a real marker for where you’re headed, especially with that insanely precise run between 02:27 and 02:47. When you were putting that section together, were you aiming to prove something to yourself technically, or did it come from pure instinct in the studio?

That section wasn’t originally planned to be what it became. I wrote it, stepped away from it for months, and if I’m honest, I was avoiding it a bit. I didn’t know if I could actually pull it off in the studio the way I heard it in my head.

Then one day I just locked in and recorded seven tracks in under three hours, and “Make You Blush” came out exactly how it needed to.

So yeah, part of it was proving to myself that I could do it, but it wasn’t forced. Once I got past that hesitation, it just flowed. That moment changed my confidence in the booth completely.

There’s always a risk with high-speed delivery that people fixate on the mechanics and miss the actual feel of the track. How do you make sure technical control serves the song instead of overshadowing its musical pull?

Speed on its own doesn’t mean anything if people don’t feel it. That’s something I’m very aware of.

With “Make You Blush”, I actually cut words out and adjusted lines while recording. Not because I couldn’t say them, but because they didn’t hit properly. Clarity matters more than cramming in syllables. If the listener can’t catch it, there’s no impact.

The track came from a real place as well, being overlooked for something I felt I deserved, especially representing a town I’ve backed for years. That emotion had to come through.

The technical side is there, but the intention is always bigger than that. Even the Wesley Snipes references are layered in there for people to catch over time. It’s about replay value as much as performance.

As an independent artist, how are you pushing yourself creatively without losing sight of what makes your sound yours? Has experimentation opened anything up for you that surprised you?

I don’t think I really found my core voice until around 2020. Before that, I was trying different sounds and figuring out where I fit.

Once it clicked, everything changed. That’s why my projects are called UNSIGNED & UNSPOILT. It represents that independence and clarity.

I used to think getting signed was the only way to make it. And don’t get me wrong, it helps, but being independent gives you something just as valuable, control. You get to build your sound properly without outside pressure shaping it too early.

Now, if opportunities come, you’re in a much stronger position. You’re not guessing your worth, you’ve already proven it.

Releasing consistently can sharpen an artist fast, but it can also be a lot to carry without a label behind you. What have you learned about discipline, pressure and momentum from building things on your own terms?

I’ve tested consistency properly. In 2024, I released a track every single month. That taught me a lot, not just about work rate, but about pacing and quality control.

Now I’m more selective. There’s more happening behind the scenes, visuals, planning, bigger moves, so it’s about timing things properly rather than just dropping for the sake of it.

What I’ve learned is simple. If you really want this, and you are genuinely good at what you do, you’ve just got to stick at it. Opportunities don’t always come when you expect them, but they do come if you stay consistent.

When people hear “Make You Blush”, what do you hope lands first, the precision of the delivery, the personality in the performance, or the full package of both working together?

For me, it’s the full package.

People will hear the speed, especially that section, but I want them to catch everything else as well. The wordplay, the references, the intent behind it.

If someone listens more than once and starts picking up on the layers, like the Wesley Snipes mentions, that’s when I know it’s landed properly.

This track is me showing that I’m not just doing this for the sake of it. I’m here to be considered among the best.

You’ve mentioned that this year is about building momentum. What does real progress look like to you at this stage, more releases, stronger audience connection, sharper identity, or something else entirely?

Progress for me is a mix of things.

I’ve already hit some personal goals, like reaching 100k on YouTube, which was on my vision board, but it doesn’t stop there. I want to perform at more festivals, grow the fanbase globally, and keep building the catalogue properly.

I’m also looking at expanding beyond just music, things like starting a podcast where I can talk about topics in the industry that people don’t always touch on.

And then creatively, I’ve got ideas like my next release, a 5 minute megamix blending multiple tracks into one visual story. That’s the kind of direction I’m moving in now.

The bigger goal is clear, doing music full-time by 2027.

Looking ahead to the rest of your upcoming releases, what sides of Crazy James are still waiting to come through, and where are you most determined to take your sound before the year is out?

There’s a lot more to come.

People have seen certain sides of me, but not all of it yet. I’ve got deeper, more emotional tracks touching on things like mental health and personal experiences that are close to home.

Then there’s the conscious side, speaking on real issues, things people don’t always want to say out loud. That’s always been part of who I am as an artist.

And of course, there’s still the technical side, the high-level rap, the energy, the performance.

I’m not one-dimensional. There’s a full spectrum there, and I’m just getting started showing it.

Discover CRAZY JAMES’ discography on Spotify.

Interview by Amelia Vandergast

Elevated Focusion Interview: Building a Borderless Soundworld from Shadow, Static and Sonic Obsession

Elevated Focusion

Elevated Focusion returns to A&R Factory carrying the kind of creative restlessness that refuses to stay in one lane for long. In this interview, we get into the thinking behind the fourth LP, a record shaped by multilingual textures, cross-cultural collaboration and an urge to treat language as sound rather than signpost. From the unexpected rise of Trash as a statement single to the influence of New York’s street-level soundscape, Elevated Focusion opens up about composing by feel, chasing a fully immersive sonic experience and creating music that lets listeners write their own meaning into it. We also touch on the role of visual identity, underground fashion, anonymity, and the collaborative ethos at the centre of the project, before looking ahead to where the next album could push things next.

Elevated Focusion, welcome back to A&R Factory, we’re buzzing to have you here again, this time to talk about the new LP and the world you’re building around it.

One of the standout singles from the LP, Trash, feels like a proper line in the sand, dark, rhythmic, confrontational, and wildly international. When you were putting this track together, did you know it would land as the ultimate statement piece?

I definitely did not think so at first. I liked the song but it is alot heavier than the rest of the album. I honestly just played my album for a long time friend and this is what stood out to him as a radio song. I listen to these songs so much while I am making and mixing them that I honestly forget that they are in other languages. It just felt like a song that could grab someone’s attention.

When i mix these different languages together, the intent is not so much to mix cultural elements. I consider all of these things to be tools or instruments to create sounds. A language fits in a song just as much as vocal timbre. I make a song and I will hear a language just as much as I would hear that the song needs a guitar.

It is like trying to fit pieces of a puzzle. By themselves the color or shape of each piece defines each piece as a stand alone thing. But once the puzzle is together all that matters is the artwork as a whole. I feel that way about using any language or any instrument. Every sound is equally important to the overall identity, and no single piece is meant to be identified by itself.

This is your fourth album, and you’ve said you pushed further into world music and let yourself be as adventurous as possible. What opened up in your writing once you gave yourself permission to stretch the project that bit further?

My heart has always been in the emotion and feeling of a song. Sometimes the words can get in the way of that. I want people to be able to write their own story to the music.

I really like the idea of using the singer as an instrument. Having the lyrics in other languages definitely helps accomplish that. I personally like to zone out alot, so I like to create music that you just get lost in.

I love watching movies I’ve already seen or movies that focus on more of a visual experience.

Obviously, if you speak the language the song will give you more direction. But my intention is to create a sonic experience.

Your music has always pulled from a lot of different places, but this album sounds especially committed to crossing borders without sanding anything down. What matters most to you when bringing different genres, influences, and cultural textures into the same body of work?

Ten years ago I went to see the artist Yanni at Radio City. On all of his songs he had singers and instruments from all over the world. I remember him speaking about the history and origin of some of the singing styles and instruments.

To me it was just so fascinating to think of. Almost like knowing we walk the earth with animals that been around since the beginning of our known existence. The music felt like traveling through time. It is something that stayed with me and would like to explore more.

Originally i was not planning on making another album after this. So my intention with this project was to make this my Opus. My last creation. That was me trying to pour every musical obsession into one final project. Of course, I’m already mixing my next album so that didn’t last very long….lol

Collaboration feels central to this phase of Elevated Focusion, especially with artists from different backgrounds and languages. What have other people brought to your music that you know you couldn’t have reached entirely on your own?

I never really wanted this to be about me personally which is why I initially put out the music anonymously and still stay mostly in the shadows. The collaboritive spirit is at the heart of the Elevated Focusion brand. I always wanted to create a free space to bring artists and musicians together.

With this album, at first I was hoping for various live instruments to bring a technical element to my songs. But they brought so much more. They brought passion and life experience to every song.

A huge moment for me was getting Aleks De Carvalho on guitars for ‘Acid Moon’. He is the owner of No Mystery studio where I record. So working with him in the studio together was a really cool moment for me.

There’s a lot of sonic risk in your catalogue, but it never feels messy for the sake of it. How do you know when a track has the right amount of friction, movement, and contrast?

I never force anything and just go with whatever I hear naturally. I have so many different sounds so it allows my music to be ever changing. I don’t really do the same thing twice so it allows me a lot of freedom artistically.

Growing up in New York you are exposed to alot of cultural sounds. Walking into a deli, or passing through various neighborhoods and hearing the music or languages being spoken. These sounds have just as much value to me creatively as all of the music I have listened to over the years.

You have to understand I have explored almost every artist of every music genre I could find. So after a while everything just blends together. I have also been around a bit in New York over the years so I have seen and heard alot. These sounds are a part of me. That is just how I see the world. Sonically.

You’ve also tied Elevated Focusion to alternative fashion and a broader visual identity. How important is the full aesthetic world around the music to the way you express yourself?

I grew up in the 80s and 90s with such cool visuals whether in 80s horror effects, graffiti, trippy cartoons like ren & stimpy, and tattoo art. I just felt for me growing up there were so many cool underground clothing brands that you could tell put alot of passion and creativity into the designs. I wanted to bring it all back in my own way.

I love collaborating with these artists to create the designs and music. The thrill of it all, watching the ideas come to life and all the back and forth in between. For me it’s like a drug. I can really get lost in it just like any addict. If I could live in this world I would.

I really want this to just be about art and music. Not about me or any other artist in particular. I just want to make cool art and music. That’s the message.

Looking at this fourth album as a whole, what do you feel it says about where Elevated Focusion is right now, and where you still want to push it?

As an artist I feel I am becoming more confident and I have definitely made some good artistic connections for music and clothing. I have worked with some extremely talented people that I can always reach out to if I feel I have the right project.

My next album dives further into using more cultural instruments and diverse languages. I definitely explored more on the composing side as well. I feel like the compositions are more complex so it is better to have less focus on the words.

I think using languages as an instrument will always be a part of my music. It just depends how everything comes together.

Find out more about Elevated Focusion via his official website. 

Interview by Amelia Vandergast

Soul Circuits and Righteous Static: An Interview with MC Zappa

MC Zappa’s forthcoming LP, Critical Times, rises from four years of upheaval, self-reckoning and sharpened conviction. His decision to create what he dubs the first Christian Bit-Hop album didn’t arrive through marketing strategy or genre novelty, it emerged from the starkest corners of lived experience. Severe depression, a traumatic brain injury, material fixation and a mounting sense of moral collapse pushed him to reassess everything he thought he understood. That reassessment led him towards faith, scripture and a pressing need to interrogate the contradictions he saw in religious culture, personal behaviour and wider society. In this interview, he traces the genesis of Critical Times, the emotional architecture behind tracks like Why?, the spiritual mentorship that shaped the record, and the cinematic ideas gathering pace behind the scenes.

What first sparked the concept for your upcoming LP, Critical Times, and how did the idea of creating the world’s first Christian Bit-Hop album start to form for you while you were stepping back from releasing music?

It only takes a single second for your whole world to change. So imagine what can happen in four years. The last album I released was “Do You Mind?!” in 2021. Although it’s a mostly instrumental album that tells surrealist stories and presents absurdist scenarios, it was still deeply personal to me, and in some ways unconsciously reflected my state of being in real life. “Apathy” is an unconscious mirroring of the anhedonia I was experiencing as a part of my severe depression. “Take Me To The Mall“, on some level, reflected the obsession with material possessions that I had developed, and the shopping addiction that I had developed. “More Bullets” indirectly pointed to the unhealthy obsession with firearms that I was nurturing around that time. These things didn’t get better with time, they got worse. I was Travis Bickle in braids.

Without going into too much detail, the culmination of my poor choices, my depression, the traumatic brain injury I had received two years prior, all came to a head and led me into a very bad spot in 2023. I subsequently had a wakeup call, and decided to give up my iniquitous ways and start following Jesus Christ. Now, with this decision came observations and realizations. I quickly came to realize that the “Christianity” I had been seeing and hearing about all my life had little to do with the life, teachings and examples of Jesus Christ and His apostles. I realized that just as it was, those who would follow Him would have to pick up their cross, deny themselves and become “new creations”. I learned that the entire Bible could be summed up into two simple commandments—to “Love God with all of your heart, mind, body and soul”, and to “love your neighbor just as you do yourself”. But every day I was being mistreated by people who claimed to be Christian. The same people that would go out of their way to belittle and humiliate me in front of a crowd would turn right around and talk about their plans to sing and worship in church later on. They mocked those whose worship was sincere, calling them “strange” and “extreme”. They even had the nerve to mock His Holy name, JEHOVAH. The selfsame ones that used me and viciously lied on me (just to come back and ask for my help later on, at that!) would often say with 100% seriousness, that they loved God and that God favored them and everything they did! But what was really deep was realizing that while I was protected by God and therefore should not despair about the abuse, it was actually their welfare that I should be concerned about, because the fact that they were acting so cruelly indicated that they needed serious help. On my phone, my feed was awash with sordid articles of male faith leaders who preached sexual purity and “family values” while sexually abusing vulnerable young men and pressuring their underage mistresses to have abortions. Megachurch pastors bought jets and fancy cars while teaching damnable heresies. It was always worthy of derision when I was growing up (which is a part of why I was so comfortable blaspheming, and why it took me so long to convert!), but now that God had called me to be one of His children, these things now filled my heart with a burning; yea, a burning of righteous anger. These wicked things reflected a lack of love towards both God and neighbor, so I felt obliged to rail against them the best way I knew how. So I picked up the mic.

After reading the Bible, developing a personal relationship with God and fellowshipping with the saints became a part of my daily life, I knew there were things I wanted to make songs about, but somewhere along the line it all just coalesced into an idea for an album. At first I was scared, and I prayed to God constantly, seeking definite confirmation from Him that it was okay. Not only did I receive it, but my conscience led me to realize that everything else had to be pushed aside to prioritize the release of “Critical Times”, because the message was so crucial.

You’ve said the new album marks a shift in tone and approach. What kind of material are you exploring on Critical Times, and how does it sit apart from what you’ve released in the past?

“Critical Times” is the world’s very first Christian Bit-Hop album. With that being said, “Critical Times” is about various facets of the Christian life, as I see them. At the conclusion of the matter, all having been heard, the underlying message of the album is that Jesus Christ is coming back soon, but when He does, it will be to judge the Earth and wage righteous warfare on those who hate Him and His Father. His birth, life and death were all prophesied (and all of them came to pass just as it was written), and so was His return. You can either be His friend or His enemy; there is no in between or “riding the fence”, for “whoever is not with Me is against Me, and whoever does not gather with Me scatters” (MATTHEW 12:30) The choice is 100% yours and it is absolutely not my place to force the Word on you, but I do have an obligation to at least let the people know what’s happening and what’s about to happen (EZEKIEL 33:8, 1 CORINTHIANS 9:16) All I can do is tell you that the Word is faithful and true, and I can tell you how my own life and testimony bears witness to this.

I talk about a lot of things across this record, matter of fact there was so much material that I had to cut it short and cap it, or else the album would have like 40-45 tracks. “Meats Fa The Belly” (taken from 1 CORINTHIANS 6:13) is about sexual immorality and how it leaves you more and more empty the more you engage, despite it deceiving you into craving it. “Money To Burn” is, for all intents and purposes, the first diss track I will have ever made over my decade-long career. It is an all-out polemic against the religious grifters, the prosperity pimps and false teachers who bleed my people dry and intentionally lead them astray with false doctrines, all “for the love of money” (1 TIMOTHY 6:10) “Shake It Off“, (taken from MATTHEW 10:14) is a short yet funky track about how when you preach the Gospel, some people will laugh in your face and some will actually get angry and despise you for it, but you are not to despair, but instead move on and find those who are receptive and eager for the Word. “None But Jesus” is my personal testimony of how I was alone and lost, profoundly lost, but Jesus had mercy on me and saved me, because only He could; I was completely and utterly incapable of saving myself. And of course you already know that “Why?” is a series of rhetorical questions intended to provoke self-examination and conviction about whether or not our faith is sincere.

I want everyone to know that while my subject matter is radically different, please don’t think for even a second that my style has changed or that I’ve “gone soft”. If anything, I kinda felt like I had to go harder than ever before with the 8-bit boom bap on this album, for the simple fact that many people see Christian Hip-Hop as “corny”. To which I reply: ask yourself why it’s “cool” to talk about sexual immorality, love of money, and hatred of your neighbor when every rapper out is talking about these things, but talking about picking up your cross, denying yourself, protecting the vulnerable, seeking justice and correcting the oppressor is “corny”? One gives you things because he wants you to destroy yourself, while the other One wants to take away the wicked and unprofitable parts of you so He can fill you with life, true life. I’ve experienced both at this point, and it’s a no brainer. But that’s on you.

When you listen back to Why?, what moment in your own life does it feel most connected to, and how did that spark the writing of the track?

“Why?” is not so much connected to a single moment so much as it is a lifetime of observance and patterns. Nonetheless, if I absolutely had to pick a single moment, it would probably be the day I found out that this older guy I used to work with, who seemed nice and always wore a large silver cross, was arrested for committing a heinous sexual crime against a vulnerable victim (which “Christians” covered up and swept under the rug for PR purposes, but that’s something else all over again!). All I could register was shock and horror. Then it occurred to me that he probably was wearing that cross when he did the abominable act. I think that incident was probably in my mind when I wrote “why are we quick to rock a cross and scream Jesus/but forget His death by means of which He redeemed us?”

The questions that I ask on this track are related to things that I’ve seen on both a micro and a macro level. When I say “why is it every day I’m forced to witness injustice/when my soul and conscience can only take so much of this?”, I’m referring both to the evil that is being wrought by religious leaders across the world, and also to the corruption and abuse of authority that I personally see around me on a daily basis. When I say “why is loving correction conflated with hatin’/don’t you realize, that’s just another tactic of Satan?”, I’m referring to the broader societal trend of all wise counsel being misinterpreted as “hating” and therefore dismissed, but I am also referring to the times when loved ones attempted to give me wisdom and solid Biblical counsel, but I rashly refused it because it wasn’t what I wanted to hear, and had to learn the lessons the hard way. This is how I know that the Holy Spirit inspired me to write this song, because every time I hear it, I myself feel convicted.

There’s a voice running through Why? that adds an unexpected emotional weight. Who is the older woman featured on the track, and what does she represent within the wider album?

That is someone who I met as a coworker, and who has now become a dear family member. I affectionately refer to her as “Auntie Molly”. I first met her in 2022, and she was one of two people that treated me like their own child, consistently shared the Gospel with me and encouraged me to leave my sins behind and follow Jesus. She is one of my two main spiritual mentors and has been there every step of my way through my walk with Christ, and as such it seemed good to me to ask her to contribute Scripture readings and vocal contributions throughout the album. She has a very distinctive flavor to her speech, which adds personality to the Scriptural truth that is proclaimed on “Critical Times”.

After taking four years away from releasing music, what pulled you back to putting new work into the world, and how did the break shape the album’s themes?

Well, while I was trying to straighten up, I was working on new music here and there the whole time. It’s just that I was so distracted, overwhelmed and scatterbrained that I couldn’t really focus on anything long enough to finish any projects or make any coherent decisions. But as I say, my conversion and subsequent experiences caused me to have a zeal and a deep desire to share what I had learned. I don’t say this to sound egotistical, but I forget more ideas than the average person comes up with. You know, Jesus once told a parable about a man who found a priceless pearl, and sold everything he had to purchase it. Similarly, I pushed all the plans I had to the side so I could prioritize “Critical Times”, as it is, in effect, an offering to God.

As far as how the break shaped the album’s themes, that’s easy. You know, I’m 26 years old. I started making music when I was 16. So according to science, my brain wasn’t even fully matured until last year! With the things I had seen and experienced, I realized that I was misguided in some ways. Social justice, equity and condemnation of hypocrisy has always been at the root of my music. Dig it; I’ve only shot two music videos thus far, and one of them is for “Call The Law”, my protest song about police brutality. I have always wanted marginalized people to be treated fairly, although in years past I had a very obnoxious and self-righteous way of expressing it. I was raised by a pro-black, socially conscious mother. I knew all about colonialism, misogyny, police brutality, institutionalized racism, and poverty. But what I’ve come to realize is that all movements that gather under these banners are “vanity”. I’ve said since I was a teenager that if you want to solve a problem, cut the root, not the branch. Think about it. There’s at least one person who has the means to end world hunger singlehandedly, and he just…didn’t do it. Ain’t we been fighting against racism and sexism since the 60s? And now look…not only did these organizations and movements not solve the problems, but in some cases they actually introduced additional problems! (BLM money laundering, anyone?) The fact is that all these problems stem from our collective failure to keep the Second Great Commandment: “love thy neighbor as thyself”. But you can’t legislate people into loving either God or their neighbor; that’s a heart change that has to happen from within, and what’s more it has to happen on a global scale. We as humans are utterly incapable of solving the mess that we’ve gotten ourselves into, for the simple fact that we still have the same underlying problem that’s caused it. Only God, our Redeemer, can put a complete and thorough end to all these evils. DANIEL 2:44 and ECCLESIASTES 3:14, that’s all I can say. I’d rather redirect my efforts and my limited time towards a permanent solution (cutting the root) than to keep wasting my time on vanity (cutting the branches, which will only grow back)

Your filmmaking always carries a distinctive tone. What usually kicks your creative brain into motion when you’re crafting ideas for your visual work?

Thank you, I appreciate that. In the past, myself and my crew would more or less just pick up the camera and pick whatever locations were most convenient. But now, I’ve carefully studied the old masters (Scorcese, Tarantino, Kubrick, Leone, Raimi, etc.) I instructed myself in the art of writing screenplays, the intricacies of lenses, shots, film stock, focal lengths and lighting, and I can’t just do things willy-nilly anymore. So now, things typically begin in my mind with a single visual motif or concept, and everything else gets carefully built around it.

But I would say that more often than not, my screenplays are more behavior-driven than they are image-driven. In other words, my mind’s eye imagines people doing things, and I wonder what kind of effects their actions would have depending on the scenario. I’m still a student of course, but I have hallmarks of my own directorial style, one of which is anachronism. I love to subtly clue the viewer in by dripping minor exposition details. For example, I have a feature length urban drama called “Vanity” that’s in pre-production, about a bookish young Alabamian woman named Jasmine whose struggles and misguided attempts to find meaning in life lead her to faith. Early in the film, Jasmine’s best friend, Brooklyn, shows her a picture of the Twin Towers that she took while on vacation. Later on, someone mentions listening to Megan Thee Stallion on their Walkman. Later still, Jasmine’s friends chide her for blowing off hanging out with them, saying “Blockbuster, Blockbuster! All you ever wanna do is go to Blockbuster!” So it makes you wonder “wait a minute, what decade does this movie take place in? Is this even reality?” These things don’t align with the way things are in the real world, so it kind of jolts and disorients the viewer, which is what I want. If I can jolt you, that means you’re paying attention.

You hinted that you’ve got more film projects on the burner. What can you share about what’s forming behind the scenes, and how do these projects link with the themes of Critical Times?

Yes, I do! I love talking about film, I wish more people would ask me about it. At this present moment, I am working on my PSA series called “Get Right“. The Get Right series highlights that the endtime prophecies that Jesus made 2000 years ago are being fulfilled before our eyes every day, so it’s time to get right with God through Jesus Christ. But I don’t wanna make stuffy, preachy content. I’ll save the dust for the drums. I like to make real engaging stories with real people that you can engage with. I have already shot and released PSA #1, “Time Is Not On Your Side“, on my YouTube. The one that’s in (pre)production right now is actually #3 (“Face The Music“), but I’m shooting out of sequence. The basic concept of Face The Music is a young man seeing an ad on his phone for a beatmaking contest, getting to work on a beat and scratching it, then being interrupted by a knock on the door from an unseen yet luminous visitor. I’m actually somewhat frustrated because although I’ve had the equipment and the set prepared for quite some time, I’m having a little trouble casting talent. I had a young man scheduled to shoot with us a few weeks ago and although we confirmed with him twice, on shoot day he flaked out and didn’t tell anybody anything. So I’m feeling a little discouraged on that front, especially since I pay all my lead actors $15/hr (which is good money for a side project in GA!), and this role is easy as pie, so I’m not understanding what the issue of finding actors is. But my casting director is handling that for me on the side, so I’m grateful for that. These are just challenges associated with being an independent filmmaker, I reckon.

That’s the short term. Now as far as the long term, I have an anthology series called “Word On The Street” that I’ve been working on for roughly the past year. Think “The Twilight Zone” and “Black Mirror“, but faith-based. I’ve written two whole episodes thus far. Each episode is 15-20 minutes long, begins with a relevant verse or two, and illustrates the natural (or supernatural in some cases!) consequences of going against God’s standards. For example, the episode “Every Idle Word” is about an externally beautiful woman who takes pleasure in belittling and verbally abusing those who she sees as “below” her, yet tries to make an outward showing of being pious and nice. The title cards display MATTHEW 12:36 and 15:11. Anyway, the woman gets 3 supernatural warnings from God about her acid tongue, but scoffs at them all. I won’t spoil it, but let’s just say that at the end she finds the passage about “what comes out of a person’s mouth being what defiles them” to be horrifyingly true. I don’t know why, but I seem to have a particular knack for writing screenplays with elements of horror; they keep cropping up in almost every serious story I write. I also have an idea for a Spaghetti Western called “Cowgirl Christ, or the Acts of St. Rose“. But being that I’m currently having trouble even shooting this short film that only has a single character, at the moment I don’t see how I’m going to get these more intricate features shot. In any case, there is one central theme across all my cinematic projects: You are more than welcome to reject God, His wisdom and His counsel, but just know that there are natural consequences. Life is much easier (and more meaningful) with Him on your side than it is when His face is against you. This message can be extrapolated from “Critical Times“, so I guess you could say it all ties together.

With the album on the way, how are you approaching the roll-out, and what kind of experience do you want listeners to have when they step into this new chapter of your sound and storytelling?

I’m still getting the hang of this whole “marketing and promotion” thing, but thus far, by the grace of God, I managed to drum up anticipation for the lead single a month before it even came out. Now, “Why?” seems to be getting a good bit of attention, so I know there’s anticipation for “Critical Times“. But as far as the rollout, I’m just talking to as many people as I can about the record, and I want to create a strong brand identity around it. That said, I’ve stepped up my visual game, creating visualizers and shareable lyric graphics.

In a recent review for “Why?“, it was described as a “spiritual gut-check”. Well, that is the effect I’d like all of “Critical Times” to have. I want people to experience “Critical Times” as a one-two punch: first you get struck by the ill Bit-Hop beats, then you rewind for the conviction in the lyrics. Just as you’ve heard it said: “one time for your mind, two times for your soul”.

Discover MC Zappa on all major platforms via this link. 

Interview by Amelia Vandergast

Gamilla: An Interview at the Crossroads of Confession and Cosmic Noise

In an exclusive A&R Factory Interview, Gamilla opens up about the world behind Catholic School Girl with a steadiness that makes the album feel even more intentional. She explains how a class assignment grew into a full record shaped by personal history, pressure, and the small shocks of adolescence that stay lodged in the mind long after you leave the classroom.

Her technical background folds into the conversation, showing how control over production lets her move between roles as songwriter, guitarist, bassist, and vocalist without losing momentum. She also talks about the risks woven into her lyrics, the sci-fi threads she keeps returning to, and what it means to step forward as a Puerto Rican woman in rock. The bigger picture, though, is her commitment to recognition and authenticity, which sets the tone for everything she plans next.

Catholic School Girl feels loaded with feeling and intent, what was the moment you knew this concept needed to exist as a full album rather than just a handful of tracks?

Catholic School Girl started as an EP I had to make for a class, and I even though I always have themes I want to express through my songs, I wanted my first project to also introduce me as a person. What better way than to make it about something that was part of me growing up. When I finished the EP for my class and I had a sound palate, I realized I had more ideas to finish it and turn into an album. I started writing more songs and mixing the EP.

You’ve just come out of Berklee with a background in Recording and Independent Production. How has having that technical control changed the way you approach writing and finishing new material?

It helps me to create the album in any order I want that works for me. Most of the time there is an order of writing, recording, mixing the mastering. Sometimes, I would get stuck mixing a song, or reording the bass part, but intead of staying stuck I would continue with a different song.

You move between songwriter, guitarist, bassist and vocalist with ease. When a new song starts forming, which role usually speaks first?

Usually either lyrics or the guitar riff. When I come up with lyrics I try to add a riff or a chord progression.

The record captures the frustration and pressure of teenage and college life in a way that feels very lived-in. Were there any lines or songs that felt especially risky or exposing to put out into the world?

All my art is mostly personal, so I felt that way about finally releasing a debut album. However, I think the one that felt mostly risky was Your Son Is A Sinner because I also added friend’s experiences as well to help with the storytelling, so it blurs the lines between their reality and my reality. Either way, it’s always a very vulnerable thing to release a personal project and this one is very personal.

Grunge influences from the 90s sit alongside these alien and otherworldly themes. What is it about that sci-fi edge that keeps pulling you back creatively?

I always loved aliens, so I thougt it was a good idea to incorpotate their imagine and themes into my projects. It’s mostly relatable with the theme of being misunderstood and unique. I also love space inspired sounds and effects like reverb, phaser, flanger, and synth pads.

Now that the debut album is out and breathing on its own, how are you thinking about what comes next? Do you feel pulled towards expanding the concept or tearing it up entirely for the next release?

I want to make a transition project between Catholic School Girl and the next album to incorporate both of their sounds. I want to expand in instrumentation, themes, and even make it more experimental with different time signatures and song forms.

Being a Puerto Rican woman working in rock music still comes with its own set of assumptions and expectations. How have you navigated carving out space that actually feels like yours?

I just ignore what everyone else is doing and focus on my project. I know that there is people out there that has always loved Rock and would probably like it once they find my music. The current music scene is definitely not Rock music, but it is a small underground community which leads to people knowing each other. I try to focus on finding my demographic and not tyring to insert myself somewhere I don’t belong.

When listeners press play on your upcoming releases, what do you hope sticks with them long after the final track fades out: an emotion, a question, or a sense of recognition?

I want people to mostly feel a sense of recognition because that is something music has made me feel before and that’s one of the reasons I love Rock music. It celebrates authenticity, self-expression, and uniqueness. Zoot (my alien) and I want people to feel comfortable being different.

Stream on Spotify. 

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Interview by Amelia Vandergast

TX Breakthrough Artist, Gatlin Johnson, Opened the Door to His Truth in a Wide Open Interview

Gatlin Johnson stepped into this conversation with the same calm clarity he carries onstage, offering a look at how adversity made space for a far deeper creative instinct than he expected. In this interview, he talks through the spark behind Only Shot, the moment he realised his own words held weight, and why serving the song means letting it guide him rather than forcing it into a mould. Readers who want sincerity without theatrics will find plenty to sink into here.

When you picked your guitar back up during recovery after your college football injury, what was the first thing that clicked for you, and how did it feel realising those half-written school songs still had something real waiting in them?

When my football days ended, I found out just how much time and effort I was putting into that area of my life. I didn’t see it in the moment because I was truly passionate about the sport, but once it was gone, there was a huge void in my life. To fill that void, I picked up a pen and my guitar, beginning to write all the stories and emotions I had accumulated over those past few years. I didn’t think anything of it until I began to draw a crowd of people around my dorm at West Texas A&M. Of course, they’d ask me to play songs they knew, but I would sneak in my own original songs. It felt super satisfying when random people would connect with words I had written.

You grew up singing hymns with your family, so which parts of that early warmth carried into the way you write now, especially when you lean into honesty? 

The lyrics and melodies of classic hymns have always been some of the most well-written songs. They don’t shy away from tragedy, trials, or the hardships of life, but they always point to the only source of peace in this world. When I write songs, I do my best to tell the story in a way that makes the listener feel the pain or peace that came with the original situation.

What was it about seeing confessional songwriting live that pushed you towards trusting your own stories more? 

At Billy Bob’s on November 26th, 2021, I saw 6,000 or more people screaming, crying, holding hands and singing along to music that can only be described as honest. The confessional songwriting was nothing but the truth. I realized people were and are yearning to hear something they connect to, and that we are all going through similar circumstances. By simply sharing your own story, you can have a positive impact on the lives of others.

After football shaped so much of your identity, how did stepping away from that world change the way you express yourself both onstage and off? 

I am still very passionate about football, but I never let it shape my identity. I’ve always been who I am because of my faith and the values my family instilled in me. For those reasons, I always hope to express myself in a humble way both onstage and off.

Out of the five tracks on Only Shot, which one feels closest to the person you are right now, and what moment in your life were you trying to catch when you wrote it?

The title track, “Only Shot,” feels closest to me right now. I wrote this about the night at Billy Bob’s when I recognized writing and playing my own songs was what I was meant to do. The first verse follows a story of meeting a girl by chance, while the second verse follows my music journey from inspiration to action. It feels closest to me right now because I’m still working towards the goals I’ve set. Also, the fact that I couldn’t do any of this alone, and I appreciate the band surrounding and supporting me and my songs.

You’ve become a familiar face at Blue Light Live, even selling out a headline show. What do those Lubbock nights give you that feeds back into your writing sessions? 

The continued and growing support we’ve received from the Blue Light and the entire Lubbock community is enough to make my self-doubt disappear in a moment. Those people remind me why I’m doing this, which is to connect with people through original music. Anybody can play Texas Country hits in a venue like that and have people singing along, but to play your own songs and have people singing along really keeps me writing.

Opening for Aaron Watson in Kansas must have felt like a big step outward. What did playing to a room full of strangers teach you about your own voice?

Playing with Aaron Watson so far from home showed me that our music can and will connect with folks who have nothing to do with where I’m from. Regardless of location, I deliver the songs with heart, and people everywhere appreciate that.

You often talk about wanting to serve the song. What does that look like in real time when you’re sitting with a lyric or melody and trying to figure out where it wants to go? 

When I say serve the song, I mean writing without fear of genres or trends. So, when I have a line or a melody, I don’t try to steer it in a way that satisfies people or myself. Instead, I finish the song in a way that feels natural and meaningful. If that means it’s traditional country or red dirt or even something I would never play, then that’s the way it’s supposed to be.

Discover Gatlin Johnson on Spotify and connect with the artist via Instagram and Facebook. 

Interview by Amelia Vandergast

Inside stevie’s Fireside Confessional, an Interview on Anger, Renewal and Creative Return

stevie invites listeners into the kind of honesty that arrives when life has stripped everything back to its raw foundations. Her EP, I Guess This Is Healing, rose from places where heartbreak, anger and long-buried humour refused to stay quiet, shaped further by studio spaces that gave her the freedom to create without fear. In this interview, she retraces the night Too Good For You snapped into focus, the way certain rooms still echo in her writing, and the moment she realised the part of her that writes songs had survived the darkest weeks. She speaks with clarity, warmth and a grounded sense of self as she reflects on the emotional fault lines that shaped the record and the odd, touching scenes that fed into it, inviting readers into the world behind her music.

‘Too Good For You (Halloween)’ feels like the musical equivalent of finally blocking that nightmare ex and then setting fire to the memory for good; what headspace were you in on the night that song really clicked, and why did Halloween feel like the right backdrop for that moment?

Simply, I was raging, absolutely full of unadulterated anger and heartbreak. It felt more like an unfiltered diary entry than a song. A song that I never dreamt of releasing, its rawness and lyrics felt like too much. I remember writing it, alone in my flat, and the guitar just wasn’t angry or beaten up enough; no amount of distortion or bit crusher could get the sound I wanted at that moment, to convey the hurt I felt. So then entering the studio and recording the track up, new layers, new people and a new not broken voice singing the track was really cathartic – processing in real time. I think that’s when the track really clicked.

The backdrop of Halloween was always going to happen, it’s an unfortunate biographical story that did happen at Halloween! I was in fact dressed as a pretty rubbish scarecrow, very drunk at an awful club. I think the reality of the story is painful, the defeat of feeling not good enough, but rattling off this story and knowing that really you’re too good for this person who is putting you through hell and saying you’re the problem. But let’s be honest there is a kind of almost comical side to this, a bottle of wine, a bad straw hat – a very tragic bittersweet time capsule.

You stepped into rooms like Electric Lady in New York and then The Church, Orinoco and Battery while you were still pretty young; what was the most surreal or formative thing you soaked up in those studios that still echoes in how you write and produce your own records now?

For me i think it’s the environments that these amazing places created. So many artists work in so many different ways, whether it’s their writing process, down time or having items or people with them who allow them to flourish. It’s the warmth and safety that is needed to create without restriction or judgement.  Feeling that you are in an environment that nurtures the way youwrite. Down to the tiniest details – the lighting or the rugs!

Whether it is writing for myself or working with other artists, providing a safe haven to feel heard and safe to create is so important. You can make music anywhere, but there is something magical about finding a space that brings that out of you.

You have spoken very honestly about that abusive relationship that drained the colour out of music for a while; can you talk us through the first tiny turning point where you felt yourself reaching back for the piano and realising the creative part of you was not gone for good after all?

I think that turning point was the same time I felt a point of no return. I was going through a really devasting point in time, one thing after the other of loss and tragedy. Then I realised I didn’t know this person anymore, and they didn’t know me. They just didn’t get that this unbelievable trauma happening around me was not about them. I was in a dark place, and they didn’t care. Crying and screaming in therapy sessions after months evolved into taking those emotions and writing them down, singing them around my flat and being able to let them exist without shame. I reached for my guitar and just let loose.

The EP, ‘I Guess This Is Healing’, traces a whole emotional arc from the point of no return in ‘Too Good For You (Halloween)’, through the disorientation in ‘Sell Me A Dream’, to the tentative new love in ‘Sore Loser’; if this record played out as a short film, what would the key scenes be, and where would the credits roll emotionally for you?

Oh, blimey, what a question. You’ve got me thinking! In all honesty, this may sound a tad odd. But in my mind, I view my brain, my psyche, my being, as an island. It is individual and solitary. There are many facets to an island – the deep crevices that you should probably unearth and sort out, the surface level that can take up a bit too much time or even the people you let on to the island.

The idea of a short film and key scenes, would be a figure burning down this island and leaving. Leaving the island owner to put out the fires one by one, tending to each problem area at a time. Rebuilding safe places, planting flowers – but then finally realising that you’ve looked after the island, but it’s only the start. A desire for companionship, new life on the island. The credits would roll at either the island owner leaving or a new boat porting up on the island. Odd island tangent over!

You want listeners to find solace, peace, humour, anger and resilience in this body of work; how do you keep that balance between laughing at the chaos and honouring the really heavy parts without sugar-coating what you went through?

Haha I think that may be something my therapist would say I need to work on!

I feel that it’s the honesty you have for yourself, the people around you and the story you want to tell. Remaining true and resilient. For me, this was a story I needed to tell, before anything else. I have to address that I am not a perfect person, this is what I’ve experienced and I am open to people feeling that. I have listened to so many songs from a young age to now that really made me reflect and be very introspective. I hope these songs do the same – and the image of me rolling down a hill dressed as scarecrow will live on.

You started out playing piano at seven or eight; when you listen back to the EP, where do you hear that childhood version of you the clearest, and where do you hear the grown, battle-scarred London creative who wrote ‘I Guess This Is Healing’?

I feel they are one and the same, actually – in the chorus of ‘I Guess This Is Healing’ I sing ‘I don’t hate myself anymore / I won’t deny myself anymore’. This, for me, is a direct admission from my child self that it is okay to be you, unapologetically! I have struggled throughout my life with my gender expression and fully fitting society’s expectations of femininity or masculinity and that was a real part of my healing process that  I am still working through today. I think the London creative can polish it up a bit, but the sentiment was really coming from my inner child. Those moments and those lyrics are the most raw part of this EP.

On Sibling Radio, ‘Stevie’s Rolodex’ lets you champion other artists every week; how has sitting on the other side of the glass as a radio host, curator, and fan changed the way you think about your own songs and the stories you want to push into the world?

Oh I love it! It really takes me back to engineering and just being there for the artist and getting their truth and vision across. I am so grateful that Sibling have allowed me to bring on artists and creatives and to really get into what makes them tick, that being said it goes off the deep end most of the time!

Listening to and talking about music with such genuine love and enjoyment makes me want to share as many stories as I can. Whether it’s a deep personal experience, or a look into outside relationships or even something conceptual. It makes me really proud of the EP I’ve created and I am really excited to keep throwing my creative chaos into the atmosphere!

You have a growing social media community and backing from a Sony Music Publishing subsidiary; how are you keeping the focus on authentic connection and healing rather than chasing numbers, and what would you love fans to feel or do the first time they spin the EP all the way through?

I think I am too anxious to focus on the numbers! I will psyche myself out!! Aha! They are important, don’t get me wrong. But my main goal here is to do this for myself and tell the stories I want to tell – and also that I enjoy myself! I started this project by doing this for myself and hoping that one day if it got released people would find something helpful or healing in it themselves.

On a first spin, I’d love for people to just react however they bloody want to! Whether that’s quiet and reflective or full of defiance and empowerment! It’s the listener’s journey; I am just telling the story.

Connect with stevie on Instagram and TikTok. 

Interview by Amelia Vandergast

Yellow Majesty Turned the Collective Absence of Imagination into Sound – An Interview

In conversation with Yellow Majesty, we explored the philosophical contours of APHANTAZIA, an album that transforms the concept of imagination’s absence into a tactile, sonic experience. The artist, who operates at the intersection of academia and art, dissects how phenomenology and post-phenomenology influence his worldview and his creative process. Across the discussion, he unpacks how technology reshapes perception, why abstraction still matters in a culture hooked on immediacy, and how collaboration with Ilan and Aaron Rubin brought a raw, organic edge to an otherwise cerebral concept. APHANTAZIA challenges the idea that imagination can ever truly be lost, offering instead an inquiry into what happens when we confront its silence.

Welcome to A&R Factory, Yellow Majesty; it’s a pleasure to speak with an artist with a talent for instilling philosophy into sound. Your new album, APHANTAZIA, resounds as a rare synthesis of intellect and emotion, so let’s start by tracing the thought and feeling behind it.

APHANTAZIA explores imagination and perception through the lens of absence — the experience of dreaming without imagery. What drew you to translate such an abstract condition into a sonic landscape?

I think that one of the reasons I wanted to explore this realm is because it is exciting and it evokes my imagination to grip something that is formless and translucent. I mean, who really knows what the imagination looks like if one cannot access it, or who knows what it feels to not be able to imagine, and who knows what the imagination of someone who cannot imagine through images, looks like? There are so many questions regarding the realm of imagination that we seem to have lost a connection with in a contemporary state of being where everything stands reserved as obvious to us, as if the world is saturating itself, and leaving our sense of imagination empty like a vessel. So, naturally, I think one way of not loosing touch with your imagination is to do something creative that looks into the imagination and explores it from a contrarian perspective.

The title track, featuring Ilan Rubin on drums, carries a heavy load of emotional intensity. How did your collaboration with Ilan, Aaron Rubin, and Maor Appelbaum evolve during production, and how did their contributions alter or extend your original vision?

Well, I was mainly collaborating with Ilan’s brother, Aaron, who has meant tremendeously to the sonic evolution of the album. Aaron has been such a blessing to work with, both as a co-producer and mixing engineer, and we worked through the songs in the order I envisioned the album, more or less. And because I usually program the drums – but play all the other instruments and vocals – I felt like the song APHANTASIA required a different kind of attention, something more natural and organic. Besides, the programming I had done for this song didn’t really fit the overall song. Both Aaron and I agreed upon that. As such, I was really lucky being able to ask Ilan if he would be interested to lay drums on the song. Actually, I felt like: this song would be perfect for Ilan to track drums, especially due to his style of playing, and evidently, he did a brilliant job which I am super grateful for.

Once the album was finished mixing, or even a bit before it was finished, I asked Aaron if he knew anyone who might be able to master the album. He gave me a couple of recommendations and my gut feeling said that Maor is the right person for the job, and the rest is history. Both Aaron and Maor are masters at what they do and super diligent to work with. Withouth them onboard, together with the performance of Ilan on APHANTASIA, the album would have never been what it is today. They really were crucial for reaching that point where I can feel that the album is good, and that it is worthy to listen to.

You’ve described APHANTAZIA as a philosophical act. Can you talk about how phenomenology or post-phenomenology informed the album’s exploration of perception, technology, and embodiment?

Phenomenology plays a critical role in my way of perceiving and understanding the world. As a philosophy – and perhaps even worldview – phenomenology emphasizes phenomena as they appear in our lived experiences, and how meaning is shaped in the structure of our experiences. When thinking about the world like that, you start shifting your way of perceiving even the most mundane stuff in life. It’s almost like you are gradually re-configurating one building block of your everyday way of being in the world, as well as your consciousness.

Then when you start including technology into the picture, and how technology mediates meaning and re-shapes our perception of the world, you are stepping into the extended form of phenomenology known as post-phenomenology. Together, both provide a foundation for re-thinking a phenomenon such as the imagination, which leads us to APHANTAZIA, a provoking way to oppose the imagination as if it was something disembodied, whereas in fact, the whole point is to say that the imagination has a form, an embodiment. However, it is not obvious if that embodiment is constant in its shape or if it occurs in movement. If it is occurring in movement, then one question that arises is: who is the mover? Is it beyond my control, if so, how, why? And it is this very process of questioning which makes APHANTAZIA into a philosophical act (among other things). 

The synthetic yet organic production creates a fascinating tension between tactile human presence and digital mediation. How conscious were you of that balance during the creative process?

This album was written on and off, for approximately 3-4 years. I really took my time with writing the songs, producing them, performing them, recording them, and then of course the lyrics brought an additional dimension of meaning to the songs. On top of that, it is a concept album, which means that there is an overall narrative and a story that frames the songs as interconnected to each other and to that narrative. That part of the album mediates meaning and a sense of human presence, whereas there are a lot of contrasting sounds that are icey, digital, and rather calculated, which is exactly how I want it because it also touches upon contemporary themes of our universal state of mind, especially in a day and age where emerging technologies such as AI are becoming less emerging and more integrated into our everyday lives. So, encapsulating that energy, contextualizing it within a narrative that I find exciting, and materializing it through a combination of digital and analogue, was pretty much the balance I wanted to establish. And I think that’s what makes this particular album exciting.

The persona of Yellow Majesty occupies a mostly uncharted space between vulnerability and transcendence. How much of this character is performative, and how much serves as a reflection of your own emotional and intellectual landscape?

 As an artist I think that it is difficult to pretend being something you are not. I also think that it is, at least for me, completely meaningless to create music just for the sake of it, it would be a waste of time for me and anyone listening to my music if my approach was to simply to force myself to say something through my music that doesn’t mean anything to me. Instead, my approach is writing music when I have something to say, or something urgent that I feel I need to translate into sound, words, visuals, and meaning. As such, nothing is purely performative for me when I do music as Yellow Majesty, it is always a reflection of my imagination, which also comprise lengths that I have go to, both emotionally and intellectually, to unlock doors that might lead me further to places and territories beyond my imagination. Yellow Majesty reflects that process.

You move between two distinct worlds, academia and music, both demanding a deep engagement with abstraction and meaning. How do those worlds feed one another in practice?

That is a very good question. As a matter of fact, I once wrote a 10-page essay about that specific question and theme. To make a long story short, my conclusion is that those two worlds are not necessarily distinct worlds, because they are both a part of my way of experiencing the world, life in general. In other words, they are intermeshed as one and I feel actually pretty lucky to be able to both in a way that suits my preferences.

“FORGET ABOUT IT” feels like a meditation on detachment and identity. What emotional or philosophical questions were you asking yourself when writing it?

FORGET ABOUT IT is one of the most uncompromising songs of the album. The energy I usually associate that song with is emerging violence, or something that is about to unleash into a very extreme point where morals, values, simply are no longer assets worth dealing with. And in the context of the album’s narrative, that song discloses an early turning point where the character we are following, decides to break all the rules and go down a very destructive path. So, yeah, in a way it is a process of detachment (from identity, morals, values), and in a way it is just the materialization of an attitude similar to the “Whatever” sub-culture of Grunge, or simply a very good way of saying that one doesn’t care anymore. It is a statement prior to apathy.

As APHANTAZIA marks a pivotal stage in your evolution, what do you hope listeners walk away with? An intellectual understanding, an emotional release, or something more intangible?

I simply hope to be able to share some creative energy that in turn evokes some creative energy. In other words, my hope is that the listener feels a bit more creative after listening to the album, or that the listener feels that they can walk away with a sense of curiosity, wonder, and/or mystery towards the world. Today, it is very difficult to preserve a fascination for the unknown because so much is saturated through technology mediation, instant rewards, and the constant glaze into our devices. How do you generate some kind of feeling that makes the listener feel like the world is not that obvious as it seems? Maybe one way is by touching the imagination because it is beyond the intellect only, and it is beyond the seeable.

Stream Yellow Majesty’s discography on Spotify & connect with the artist on Instagram. 

Interview by Amelia Vandergast