NÆ Makes Cool Feel Fake on “Pretending to Be Cool” Feat. Blizz

NÆ is not here to whisper. On “Pretending to Be Cool (feat. Blizz),” she kicks the door down with synths blazing and invites you into a world where pop is allowed to be smart, theatrical, and deeply self-aware. This track does not mock the idea of cool from the outside. It stands inside the performance, waves at the camera, and admits we are all playing along.

Written and performed by NÆ (JaNae Contag) and Blizz (Ryan Black), the production is punchy and unapologetic. Swaggering 80s-inspired synths drive the track forward while a thick electronic groove keeps it firmly planted on the dance floor. NÆ’s vocals are confident without being cold, playful without slipping into parody. She delivers each line with a wink that feels intentional, like she knows exactly how ridiculous the performance is and chooses joy anyway.

Blizz’s presence sharpens the track rather than crowding it. His composition and sound design lean into texture and movement, letting the song breathe while still hitting hard. Mixed by Ryan Black and mastered by Levi Seitz at Black Belt Mastering, the result is pop that feels maximalist but controlled. Every sound has a purpose. Every moment knows where it is going.

Lyrically, “Pretending to Be Cool” lands because it refuses to moralize. NÆ does not pretend she is above the performance economy. She admits the contradiction. We critique the idea of cool while still chasing it. That tension is the song’s heartbeat. It feels honest in a way that hits harder than irony ever could.

The music video expands the concept into a full collaborative spectacle. Directed by Kristen Smith and Kris Trgovich, the campy sci-fi universe is packed with disco balls, DIY props, and intentional artifice. Nathan Glynn appears as the voice of Kionius, guiding the narrative as the facade slowly unravels. Kristen Smith also serves as director of photography and editor, with lighting design by Celest Urban and production assistance from Lilith Sleater. Rigging by Kris Trgovich and Ryan Black adds to the tactile, handmade feel of the set, including a custom spaceship prop fabricated by Matt Ransom and a NASA console built by Ken Kovacin.

Produced by JaNae Contag and Ryan Black, the video leans into spectacle while exposing it. When the spaceship spirals and the illusion cracks, the message lands clearly. Cool is a costume. Humanity shows up when it falls apart. The single cover artwork, photographed by Celest Urban, mirrors that same tension between polish and play.

The project was made possible in part by a Creative Catalyst Grant from The Illinois Arts Council, with special thanks to Meg Gustafson and Hammy Wammy Gallery. That support is visible in the ambition of the visuals and the scale of the collaboration, which treats pop not as disposable content but as a fully realized art piece.

In a cultural moment obsessed with optics, NÆ makes pop that laughs at the performance without losing the fun. “Pretending to Be Cool” is for anyone tired of pretending but not ready to stop dancing.

At what point did you realize that pretending to be cool could be both exhausting and creatively rich?

Thank you so much for the interview opportunity and for supporting independent artists. That’s a great question. I think the phrase “pretending to be cool” first came up for Blizz and me in a discussion about the performance of oneself online, through social media, personal websites, and having a “digital presence”. For artists, this can indeed be exhausting! Having a “curated” online presence is an act of conscious exclusion of showing publicly one’s other areas of life, while oftentimes putting forth our very best selves. It takes work. 

At the same time, an online persona can be empowering creatively. Not only is there power in some level of anonymity granted through having an online persona, but there is also the opportunity to lean into the possible fictions, narratives, and sci-fi intergalactic conflict that can be constructed from it. Creatively, the performance of “cool” opens up weird and wild possibilities, not to mention acknowledging that it can be fun.

It is important to mention that Blizz (Ryan Black, Producer and Featured Artist) and I also nod to the fact that the performance of “cool” isn’t just something we do online. The online world is an extension of the offline world, where many of us perform for various encounters on a day-to-day basis. The way we perform is coded in social expectations - whether it is making friends at a new job, going out on a first date, or hanging out at a house party. I truly think people want to be perceived as “cool” in any circumstance - and it’s even better when they’re self-aware of it. That’s the play of the song - pretending to be cool and being aware that you’re being ridiculous while doing it.

How do you decide when camp is doing the emotional work versus distracting from it?

I love that you asked this. In the NÆ universe, the camp aesthetic actually blurs some of the distinctions between authenticity and simulation. The characters NÆ and Blizz adventure through the galaxies in a fictional narrative that in many ways parallel real lived experience. Camp allows us to introduce a sense of imaginative play to our music and the universe we’re building around it. NÆ and Blizz meet beings on new planets with real problems or issues. This structures the narrative with questions surrounding how we can learn from the problems and experiences of others. 

For example, NÆ and Blizz recently met a new friend named Xob on the planet Consumeron. Xob is an immigrant to that planet, trying to fit in by wearing a trendy hat and eating the trendy ice cream. They desperately want to fit in, and are emotionally relatable - even as an intergalactic being (technically a puppet made of cardboard, spray paint, and fur!) 

In this way, we use camp as a means to evoke humor and acknowledge the low-tech props and puppets we have (and our own lack of acting skills). But it also sets up a world that is relatable, with sincere characters, and a visual aesthetic that is authentic to us. If it’s distracting from the emotional work, that’s okay! It can be fun and silly for someone who experiences the campy qualities of our work for the first time. But on a deeper level, I think the camp aesthetic of our work resonates with our friends in the queer community, people who want to reconnect with their inner child, and kids of all ages.

The video leans into visible artifice. What did letting the seams show unlock for you creatively?

Good observation. We love showing the seams in the production of our visuals! It unlocks the excitement and interest of understanding more than the surface value. It’s as though we’re winking at the viewer and saying, “dig deeper… there’s more.” It is a little bit of showing the viewer how we perform the “magic trick”, without giving away all the secrets.

I think there is also an aspect of celebrating craft itself. It’s the idea that the human hand is visible in the work. Our use of cut paper, wires, strings, googly eyes, and tactile materials keeps the “Unaeverse” grounded in something physical and handmade. I think there’s something inviting about seeing how something was built; it reminds the viewer that imagination is accessible, that magic can come from everyday materials, and that creating a universe doesn’t require perfection.

How do live audiences react when they realize the joke includes them, too?

I’m not sure if it is a conscious or subconscious realization, but “Pretending to Be Cool” definitely gets folks at our shows dancing and singing with us! I think when we embrace that aspect of performance / pretending, the stage dissolves and we’re all just moving together. It’s exhilarating! We once performed the song at a festival when it rained during our entire set. The audience was with us dancing in the rain until the end! We’ll always remember that.

What risks did you take on this track that you would not have felt ready to take earlier in your career?

The last time we did an interview with y’all was in 2021, when we released our music video for the song “Sugar Pumps”. It’s been almost five years since then, and I feel we’ve evolved in so many wonderful ways as artists and musicians. This track doesn’t have a typical pop music structure and has a unique way of building to a chanted bridge towards the end of the song. We’ve also performed so many more shows on live stages in Chicago, and that gives us the opportunity to really “play test” each song, how we want to sing it, dance to it, and perform it. 

I think earlier on in songwriting, Blizz and I would be hesitant to have a lyrical line that repeated so much, like “going higher, higher, higher, higher, higher, higher up,” thinking it would feel overdone or redundant. But having experienced this song in the context of our live shows, the audience loves the build of it and can sing along with us! In the produced version of the song, it keeps that live energy and rewards listeners who sing along.

In the music video, we really let our guards down in terms of the performance of “cool”; whereas in the past (“Sugar Pumps” is a great example), my performance was fully trying to appear cool (even in a ridiculous situation). In the “Pretending to Be Cool” music video, NÆ and Blizz fully spiral; they fully lose their cool, as the spaceship metaphorically overloads, lights on fire, and starts crashing back down towards an unknown planet where adventure awaits the duo!