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Sonja Midtune Delivers Emotional Clarity On New Album, 'Running From The Lesson'

  • Writer: Jennifer Gurton
    Jennifer Gurton
  • 9 hours ago
  • 5 min read

Updated: 7 hours ago



In a world addicted to closure, Sonja Midtune dares to stay cracked open. 'Running from the Lesson' isn’t your typical journey-through-pain album—it’s an emotional exposé for anyone who's ever felt stuck in the middle of a personal storm with no tidy ending in sight.

The Los Angeles-based artist laces her dream pop and indie rock influences with the kind of raw introspection that most songwriters only pretend to reach. This isn’t music for people who want to feel “better.” It’s music for people who want to feel, period.

Across eight soul-punching tracks, Sonja Midtune documents the mess of grief, growth, love, identity crises, the works. She’s not offering lessons; she’s walking you through the chaos before the clarity. The album was born from a year that kicked her teeth in emotionally, after losing a family member, getting married, and reconfiguring who the hell she even is anymore. The result? A record that feels more like a late-night voice memo than a polished pop album, and that’s exactly its power.

The opener “Salt To Breathe” hits like the first breath after crying so hard your ribs hurt. “Changing Me” feels like staring at your own reflection and not recognizing the person staring back. And then there’s “Falling Up” and “Keep It In The Dark," songs that lean into contradiction, where forward motion doesn’t mean healing and silence feels safer than honesty.

Midtune thrives in this duality. Her music floats in a dreamy haze, but her lyrics slap you in the chest when you least expect it. The production stays soft, almost deceivingly so, but there’s weight in every word. You could zone out with these tracks on a lazy Sunday or spiral into a quiet epiphany at 2 a.m. And either vibe works.

“Still In The Sky” lingers like a ghost you don’t really want to forget. “It’s All the Same” captures the sick comfort of destructive patterns. And “Send A Clue” might be the most emotionally exposed moment on the album, a cracked-open plea for something that makes sense. She closes with “Slow Hypnotize,” a track that doesn’t resolve so much as it releases. It’s not an ending. It’s an exhale.

What’s wild is how effortlessly she pulls this off. No vocal gymnastics, no dramatic production drops, just restraint, poise, and honesty. Midtune doesn’t overreach. She lets it sit. The grief, transformation, and uncomfortable truths are all here, just whispered instead of screamed.

Running from the Lesson isn’t about finding peace. It’s about giving yourself permission to not have it yet. It’s for the people who are still in the thick of it, still asking the hard questions, still running, not from the truth, but from the tidy little stories we’re told about how healing should look. This album doesn’t beg for your attention. It earns it.



This album reflects a mix of major life shifts of loss, marriage, and identity. Was there a specific moment that sparked the writing process, or did the songs come gradually over time as you processed everything?


The songs came gradually over a period of 8 months, but they were each written usually within a day to capture emotions in the moment for each song. My last EP “GOLDEN GIRL” stems from an identity crisis; this album firmly stands in who I am and reflects all the things changing around me.


The first song I wrote with Sean Oakley (my Producer) was “IT’S ALL THE SAME”. I was just getting back into writing after my wedding and honeymoon, where we lost our family member less than a week before the ceremony.


It was a lot of processing… and at times I’ve wanted to turn away from confronting how much that and the passing of time have changed me, which sparked the album title from the lyrics of that first song.


After the initial wave of devastation and all of the intense emotions, I disconnected from joy, which is what sparked the song, the feeling that everything felt the same all the time.


By the time “Send a Clue” was written, I was finally narrowing down my feelings and asking questions.


The emotional themes are heavy, but the sonic landscape feels dreamy and light. How intentional was that contrast, and what do you think it adds to the listener’s experience?


Very intentional! I love sad songs, but I’ve been really into songs that make me feel good, that I can go on a walk to or drive with my windows down. I wanted these songs to be perfect for that setting and leave you with a sense of feeling good, then the more you listen, the more you hear the words. I didn’t stew on any of the songs; they were all written very quickly to capture the current mood, which is why I strongly feel that the album is such a soundtrack to life.


You describe the album as a moment-by-moment journey through grief and self-discovery. Were there any songs that were especially hard—or unexpectedly easy—to write during that time?


“Changing Me” was particularly easy to write. It started as a love song and turned into a grief song. The melody just pulled so much out of me, I wrote many verses in a single night. When I went to record the demo to send to my producer, I actually sang it with my eyes shut and unknowingly sang two verses out of order. When I listened back, the new order made the song come together like puzzle pieces.


As far as hard, “Salt To Breathe” was tough to get started. It was the second song Sean and I wrote together for the album, and it was difficult at first to nail down what I wanted to say, but it’s one of the songs I’m most proud of on the record. Lyrically, we tried to capture the feeling of giving in to panic and anxiety, but sonically wanted it to feel cinematic, soothing, dreamy, and cool.


With tracks like “Keep It In The Dark” and “Send A Clue,” there's a sense of both revelation and restraint. How do you navigate what to share and what to protect in your songwriting?


It’s a tricky balance. Neither song is trying to hide the message, but both songs easily help you connect the dots the more you listen. When writing, I try to show you instead of tell you what I mean.

“Push it down til you forgot


Breathe without a second thought


Feels so good now, sold and bought


And everyone’s an astronaut…”


You said this album is “just the beginning.” What does the next chapter look like for you—musically, emotionally, or personally?


I have so much music to share. I have at least three singles almost ready for the end of the year, plus I’d love to self-produce an album. I learned so much from making this one that it makes me immediately want to spin out another!


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