Isabella Ashton Finds Beauty in the Breakdown on "Lost My Body"

New York City experimental art-pop artist Isabella Ashton confronts the complicated intersection of desire, grief, and religious shame on “Lost My Body,” a slow-building new release that turns personal upheaval into an increasingly expansive sonic journey.

Originally written three years ago during a period of significant loss, “Lost My Body” began with Isabella Ashton thinking about what happens when something familiar disappears and the search for connection that can follow. Inspired in part by the melodic beauty and moments of deterioration on Cindy Lee’s What’s Tonight To Eternity?, Isabella Ashton wanted the song to move between accessibility and disruption rather than remain in one emotional space.

That idea evolved during the recording process. An instrumental break initially envisioned as distorted and deliberately ugly became unexpectedly beautiful as Isabella Ashton worked alongside producer John and friend Sunjay, who created the string arrangements. The shift feels fitting for a song where conflicting emotions continually occupy the same space.

Much of that conflict traces back to Isabella Ashton’s upbringing in a Mormon suburban community in Utah. While processing loss, Isabella Ashton found herself seeking intimacy and connection while simultaneously carrying deeply ingrained feelings of shame surrounding sex, relationships, and the body.

As a result, “Lost My Body” doesn’t separate desire from discomfort. It examines what happens when wanting to feel loved collides with teachings that can make those same desires feel forbidden.

“I hope that it lands, honestly,” Isabella Ashton says. “There’s a lot of delayed gratification in this song, and it goes on quite a journey.” Currently studying classical piano performance, Isabella Ashton brings that understanding of structure into music that is far less interested in behaving predictably.

“Lost My Body” also offers an early window into what comes next. Isabella Ashton is currently developing her debut album Funeral Potatoes, expected in 2027.

You originally imagined the instrumental break in “Lost My Body” as something distorted and ugly, but it became beautiful during production. Did that transformation change how you understood the song itself?

I don't know if it changed the way I understood the song, but I do think working on it for about 3 years led to different feelings about it. Of course, when I first wrote it, that process was much more raw. I was very much exploring my fresh feelings. Then as time went on, and whenever I performed it or tinkered with it, I wasn't channeling those initial feelings so much as musical ideas that were interesting to me. I guess in a way it became more abstract to me? I think the core emotion of the song has always stayed the same. But it became easier to detach from that for the sake of exploring whatever musical ideas seemed cool. 

“Lost My Body” connects desire with the shame you experienced growing up Mormon. How has songwriting helped you separate what you genuinely believe about your body and relationships from what you were taught?

It's interesting; I don't know if I've ever thought about that before. I think the growing up Mormon thing is just one part of the puzzle. It's hard to be a young person and feel okay with your body and sex, period. But yeah, growing up in such a conservative environment definitely magnified those feelings.

Songwriting came to me pretty late, compared to other people. I didn't start until college, and by then I had already started to unpack a lot of things, so songwriting didn't necessarily help me separate my beliefs from what I was taught. I do think songwriting has been very helpful in allowing me to capture my emotions and crystallize them at very specific moments of my life. Music making has always been cathartic for me. That's why I stuck with it.

You mentioned being inspired by the way Cindy Lee can place melody alongside moments of sonic deterioration. What attracts you to beauty and discomfort existing within the same piece of music?

I've always loved extremes in music. And I think it has to do something with delayed gratification. People have a tendency to skip past songs they don't immediately "get," or they feel like they should understand/like a piece of art right away. But for me, some of the most gratifying musical or artistic experiences I've had are the ones that push me past my own understanding. And yeah, it's kind of cliché but true that the most beautiful things are best appreciated when contrasted with true ugliness. My song never ended up there, but it's something I like to keep in mind when I write. 

You’re studying classical piano performance while creating experimental art-pop. Do you intentionally break rules or instincts from classical music when writing your own material?

I actually graduated from my piano program in 2023! It's been a few years since I've taken classical piano lessons, but it's very much within me because I studied it for so many years. When I first started writing music in college, it felt very separate from my classical studies. I think honestly my brain needed a break and some sort of outlet for my other musical interests. I grew up listening to a lot of folk and jazz music, and indie rock too.

So my music is very much an amalgamation of those influences. I do think that classical music ended up really freeing my expectations of what my music should sound like, though. It sounds counterintuitive, but there is so much freedom in that music. You don't have to care about how long it is, or if there's a hook, or if it sounds too strange. Of course there are plenty of formal constrictions within classical music, but there are constrictions in music everywhere. I'd rather live between musical worlds than have to meet the expectations of any genre. 

Your debut album is called Funeral Potatoes, a title with a very specific connection to Mormon culture. What does that title represent within the larger world and story you’re building for the record?

It's funny, I think my uncle suggested that title a while ago. I was asking my family members for artist name ideas, and he came up with that one. I thought it would be better as an album name, and coincidentally, I started writing a lot of songs about my family and my upbringing. As someone who no longer identifies as Mormon, it feels a little complicated to have the title connect to Mormonism so strongly. But ultimately I am so attached to where I grew up, and it totally shaped who I am as a person. I don't have any pretensions that I can speak for anyone else with the same background.

My experience is just my experience. But I would love to add my songs to the mix and maybe broaden some people's ideas of what that culture can produce. It's funny, for the first time in my life, people who didn't grow up in Utah have Mormon literacy now. I guess because of the Real Housewives and the rise of trad-wife influencers and stuff like that. Which is so far from how I was raised or what my beliefs are. What I have found since living in NYC is that as soon as I meet someone from a red state or who grew up religious, I feel such a sense of immediate understanding. Like, oh, you know how tough that was sometimes. But you still miss where you're from. It's just a part of you.