Emily Brooks Turns Chaos Into Power on “Black Cat”

There’s something refreshing about an artist willing to stare directly into the messier parts of being human instead of polishing them into something easier to consume. Emily Brooks does exactly that on “Black Cat,” a track that feels less like a performance and more like an emotional unraveling happening in real time.

The Los Angeles-based alt-rock artist dives into themes of rebellion, desire, shame, rage, and transformation, creating a song that’s gritty enough to leave bruises but vulnerable enough to actually mean something underneath the noise. “Black Cat” fully embraces the energy society has historically labeled “too much” in women: emotional, seductive, angry, loud, and unpredictable. Instead of apologizing for it, Brooks turns it into power.

Using the black cat as both metaphor and alter ego, Brooks reclaims the symbolism of something misunderstood and demonized, transforming it into an anthem for outsiders and emotionally chaotic people still trying to unlearn the idea that authenticity has to be digestible.

“Black Cat” feels cinematic without sounding overproduced. The track pulls from alt-rock, garage rock, blues, and darker pop textures, creating a soundscape that feels like neon lights reflecting off wet pavement after midnight. It’s messy, seductive, and emotionally unstable in the best way possible.

Brooks’ vocal performance carries the emotional weight of the track effortlessly. One second, she sounds fully in control, the next like she’s about to combust. That tension gives “Black Cat” its pulse and keeps the song from settling into one emotional lane for too long.

What separates Emily Brooks from many artists operating in this darker alt space is that the aesthetic never overshadows the humanity. Nothing about “Black Cat” feels manufactured for internet cool points. There’s lived emotion underneath every second of it, and that’s exactly why the song lingers long after it ends.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O1vUQWVw4O0

“Black Cat” feels deeply personal while still sounding massive and cinematic. Was writing this song emotionally freeing for you, or did it force you to confront parts of yourself you were still struggling with?

Thank you! Honestly, it was both. Writing “Black Cat” felt incredibly emotionally freeing, but it also forced me to confront how disconnected I had become from parts of myself while chasing my goals. I’m such a workhorse with music that I had sacrificed a lot of my social life to focus on surviving in Los Angeles and becoming better at my craft, and at the time, I was really craving deeper human connection and more excitement in my life. I think the song became an outlet for the parts of me that refused to stay small, numb, or emotionally disconnected anymore.

You talk a lot about embracing the parts of ourselves we were taught to hide. Growing up, what was something about yourself that you felt pressured to suppress?

Growing up in the Catholic school system, I felt pressure to suppress a lot of who I naturally was. I was colorful, emotional, creative, and very ADHD, and instead of being understood, I was labeled a ‘bad kid’ from a really young age. When you hear that enough as a child, it starts to shape your psyche and the way you see yourself.

I also grew up bisexual at a time when those conversations weren’t really happening openly at all, especially in religious environments, so even though I knew I felt different, I didn’t fully understand what I was feeling yet. There was definitely a sense that parts of me were something to hide or be ashamed of. I think a lot of my music now comes from reclaiming those parts of myself instead of apologizing for them.

There’s a really raw tension in the song between confidence and emotional unraveling. Do you think creating music has helped you become more comfortable with chaos in your own life?

Definitely! Creating music has helped me understand myself so much better; it helps me process and unravel my emotions in real time. I’ve always felt things very deeply and intensely, and for a long time, I almost felt bad for experiencing life that way. Music gives me a place to channel all of that energy, the chaos, the beauty, the pain, into something meaningful, and it honestly feels magical sometimes. It’s like I feel things this deeply for a reason: not just for my own healing, but hopefully to help other people accept the messy, emotional, beautifully human parts of themselves too.

The visual world around “Black Cat” feels incredibly intentional and immersive. When you’re building a release like this, do the visuals come first for you or does the emotional feeling of the song lead everything?

The emotional feeling always leads me to the visuals. For me, the music creates the world first; the visuals are almost an extension of the emotional energy of the song. I’m very cinematic in the way I experience music, so when I’m creating something like “Black Cat,” I start seeing colors, textures, characters, symbols, and scenes almost immediately. I never want visuals to just look aesthetically cool; I want them to feel like they’re pulling you deeper into the emotional and psychological world of the song.

“Black Cat” feels like an anthem for outsiders and wild-hearted people trying to reclaim themselves. What do you hope fans emotionally feel when they hear this song live for the first time?

I hope they feel excited about the parts of themselves they’ve been taught to feel shame around. I hope the song makes people feel free, inspired, alive, like they don’t have to fit neatly into a box to be worthy of love or connection. “Black Cat” is really about reclaiming the wild, emotional, untamed parts of yourself instead of hiding them, so more than anything, I hope people leave feeling more empowered to fully be who they are.