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New York-based Americana-rock outfit Young Allies has officially released its debut EP, Fingers Entwined, marking the arrival of a band that has steadily evolved from songwriter Fritz Michel's solo work into a fully collaborative ensemble. Following months of live performances and a residency at Long Island City's LIC Bar, the four-track release captures the chemistry the group developed on stage while introducing a thoughtful approach to storytelling and classic songwriting. Rather than relying on nostalgia, Fingers Entwined finds fresh meaning in familiar ideas. Each song draws inspiration from a different source while filtering it through the band's understated, ensemble-driven sound. The title track explores themes of connection and chance, "Watchman" reimagines a medieval French troubadour song, "Are You In" borrows inspiration from Robert Frost's Nothing Gold Can Stay, and the closing rendition of Chuck Berry's "You Never Can Tell" offers a respectful yet distinctly modern interpretation of a rock and roll classic. What ultimately separates Young Allies from many debut acts is their commitment to collaboration. Every arrangement feels shaped by the musicians in the room rather than centered around a single creative voice. Warm harmonies, tasteful instrumentation, and restrained production allow each performance to breathe naturally, creating an intimate listening experience that values nuance over excess. Echoes of artists like The Band and Lou Reed are present throughout, but the EP never feels derivative, instead building on those traditions with quiet confidence. The EP's greatest strength is its patience. In an era where music is often optimized for instant gratification, Fingers Entwined unfolds organically, rewarding careful listening through subtle performances and thoughtful songwriting. Every track feels intentional, allowing the band's chemistry to take center stage rather than flashy production or unnecessary embellishment. Across just four songs, Fingers Entwined establishes a clear artistic identity rooted in shared authorship, timeless songwriting, and genuine musical connection. It's a concise yet memorable debut that suggests Young Allies aren't simply introducing themselves; they're laying the foundation for a band with a strong creative vision and plenty of room to grow. How did the transition from your solo work to Young Allies as a fully collaborative band reshape the way these songs evolved, and were there moments where the music surprised you because of that collective process? It changed everything. Most of these songs began with me sitting alone with an acoustic guitar, but they didn’t really become Young Allies songs until the band got hold of them. Phil hears harmonic colors I never imagined, Tosh always seems to find the guitar part that unlocks a song, Isaac has an uncanny instinct for when not to play, and Gavin’s bass lines keep everything moving forward. More than anything, we enjoy listening to one another. Gavin’s story is a good example of how the band came together. I originally hired him to direct one of my music videos, but somewhere along the way it became obvious he wasn’t just interpreting the songs—he was already thinking like part of the band. Now he directs our videos and plays bass, which feels completely natural in hindsight. Isaac, Gavin, and I also come out of experimental theater, so we’ve always thought about songs as something that exists in space, not just sound. The music, the visuals, and the live performance all feed one another. Our Long Island City residency reinforced that idea. We’d play the songs every week, make changes, then try them again. The audience probably didn’t notice the arrangements evolving, but we did. The biggest surprise was realizing that many of my favorite moments on the EP weren’t my ideas. That’s a wonderful feeling because it means the music has become something bigger than any one of us. Each track draws inspiration from a different historical or literary source, from medieval troubadour music to Robert Frost and Chuck Berry. What draws you to reinterpreting existing works rather than starting from a blank page? I’ve always believed art is one long conversation across generations. History was my major at Yale, and I don’t think I ever stopped looking at the world that way. Whether it’s Robert Frost, medieval troubadours, Chuck Berry, or an afternoon feeding quarters into Dragon’s Lair at the Space Age Arcade, I’m drawn to ideas that somehow refuse to disappear. I don’t think of it as borrowing. I think of it as collaborating with people who happened to live before us. Great artists leave puzzles behind, and every once in a while you stumble onto one that becomes the beginning of a new song. Oddly enough, I find that more freeing than a blank page. Some of the most interesting things happen when two ideas that shouldn’t fit together suddenly do. The videos follow that same philosophy. Rather than explain everything, we like leaving clues—recurring characters, visual echoes, and stories that overlap without giving away all their secrets. If people decide to dig a little deeper, I hope they’ll find a few surprises. Your Long Island City residency played a major role in shaping this EP. How did performing these songs live before recording them influence the arrangements and the final versions listeners hear today? Honestly, it was probably the smartest decision we made. Instead of disappearing into a studio, we played these songs in front of people every week. You learn things onstage that you simply can’t learn in rehearsal. Where does the room lean in? Where does attention drift? Does the bridge actually earn its place? We’d finish a show and immediately start talking about what we wanted to change. By the time we recorded the EP, the songs had already lived a little. The recording wasn’t trying to figure out what they were—it was trying to capture something we’d already discovered together. In an era where music is increasingly created digitally and optimized for short attention spans, Fingers Entwined embraces live performance, restraint, and organic musicianship. Why was it important for the band to preserve that human element? I love technology, and we used plenty of it while making the record. I just don’t think perfection is the point. Some of my favorite records leave little imperfections intact because they remind you that there are real people in the room listening to one another. Music is a conversation. If every edge gets polished away, you lose some of its personality. That carries into the videos too. Whenever we can, we’d rather build something physically than fake it digitally. We love miniatures, forced perspective, practical effects, and real movement because they’re a little unpredictable. Whether it’s a song or a music video, we’re trying to make something that feels genuinely handmade. Now that Fingers Entwined introduces listeners to Young Allies’ identity, where do you see the project heading next? Do you feel this EP is the foundation for an evolving sound, or does it already capture the band’s long-term vision? I hope it’s the first chapter. One thing I’ve learned is not to become too attached to where I think the music is headed. Every time this group gets together, someone takes an idea somewhere I never expected. That’s become part of our identity. What I hope stays constant is our curiosity. We like songs that tell stories, melodies that can stand on their own, and creating a world that rewards people who spend time with it. The music and the films are really two ways of exploring the same ideas. You can enjoy either one on its own, but together they reveal a little more. Whether the next project leans toward folk, rock, chamber pop, or something none of us has imagined yet, I hope people recognize the same spirit. We’re not trying to chase the sound of the moment. We’re trying to build something that people will want to come back to.

The music industry runs on relationships, trust, and opportunity. Unfortunately, those same things can make independent artists particularly vulnerable to bad deals, empty promises, pressure tactics, and people who know exactly what to say to get an artist to lower their guard. Not every questionable phrase automatically means someone is trying to take advantage of you. Context matters. But there are certain statements that should make you stop, ask more questions, and understand exactly what you're agreeing to before moving forward. From contracts and management to marketing, money, and ownership, here are 18 phrases independent artists should recognize as potential red flags. “You don’t need a contract.” You probably do. Not every casual collaboration requires a 30-page legal agreement, but if money, royalties, ownership, management, publishing, or long-term responsibilities are involved, important terms should be documented. A contract isn't necessarily a sign that someone doesn't trust you. It protects everyone by establishing what was actually agreed upon before memories, expectations, or relationships change. “The contract is just a formality.” If it's important enough to sign, it's important enough to understand. Contracts can determine who owns your music, how long an agreement lasts, what percentage someone receives, how you can leave the deal, and what happens to your work afterward. Never let someone's casual attitude toward a contract convince you that its terms don't matter. “You don’t need a lawyer to look at this.” This should make you want legal advice even more. A legitimate business partner shouldn't be threatened by an artist having an agreement independently reviewed. For major contracts involving masters, publishing, management, licensing, or significant money, getting qualified legal advice can be one of the smartest investments you make. “You need to decide today.” Some opportunities genuinely move quickly. Artificial urgency is different. Pressure can prevent artists from researching a company, checking references, reading an agreement properly, or asking someone they trust for advice. If an opportunity completely falls apart because you asked for reasonable time to understand it, consider what that tells you about the opportunity. “We’ll figure out the percentages later.” Figure them out now. Songwriting splits, producer points, management commissions, royalties, ownership percentages, and other financial arrangements become much harder to discuss once a song is generating attention or money. Have uncomfortable conversations while everyone is still getting along. “You’ll get exposure instead of payment.” Exposure isn't automatically worthless. The problem is when it becomes a convenient excuse for someone else to benefit from your work without offering anything meaningful in return. There are legitimate unpaid opportunities that can make sense for an emerging artist. The question is whether the exposure is real, relevant, and worth what you're being asked to contribute. “Exposure” should never prevent you from asking what the actual value exchange is. “Give us a percentage of everything you make.” Managers and other music professionals commonly work on commission. That's not inherently suspicious. What deserves scrutiny is someone demanding a sweeping percentage of your income without clearly defining what they're responsible for, which revenue streams are included, how long the commission lasts, and whether they continue earning after the relationship ends. Understand exactly what someone gets before agreeing to what you're giving them. “You can always get your masters back later.” “Later” needs to exist in the contract. Master ownership can have significant long-term value. If you're transferring ownership or granting extensive rights, understand exactly what you're giving away, for how long, and whether there is actually a contractual mechanism for those rights to return to you. A verbal promise about what might happen someday isn't ownership. “Don’t show this contract to anyone else.” Confidentiality provisions can exist in legitimate agreements. Trying to prevent you from showing a contract to your lawyer or professional adviser is something very different. You should be able to seek appropriate advice about an agreement that could affect your career. Someone who benefits from you not understanding the contract is not protecting your interests. “You’re asking too many questions.” Ask more. Where is the money going? Who owns the recordings? What exactly are the deliverables? How long does the agreement last? What happens if either side wants out? These aren't annoying questions. They're basic business questions. A good professional should be able to explain what they're proposing without making you feel guilty for wanting to understand it. “If you were serious about your career, you’d find the money.” Your ambition should never be used as a pressure tactic. Artists absolutely need to invest in their careers, but responsible investing means evaluating cost, risk, value, and affordability. Going into financial distress doesn't suddenly prove you're more committed to your music. Be especially cautious when the person questioning your commitment is also the person who gets paid if you say yes. “You should be grateful we’re even working with you.” Professional relationships should involve mutual respect. Labels, managers, publicists, producers, booking agents, and other professionals can bring enormous value to an artist's career. Artists bring value to those relationships too. Gratitude shouldn't require accepting disrespect, unclear accounting, unreasonable demands, or poor treatment. “Nobody else is going to give you this opportunity.” Maybe. Maybe not. Scarcity is powerful because independent artists know how difficult genuine opportunities can be to find. That makes fear of missing out particularly easy to exploit. Evaluate an opportunity based on what it actually offers, not what someone predicts will happen to your career if you turn it down. “You’re not big enough to negotiate.” Your leverage may change depending on your career stage, but asking questions and proposing different terms isn't reserved for famous artists. Some agreements genuinely are non-negotiable. You still have the right to understand them and decide whether they're acceptable. Being an emerging artist doesn't mean automatically saying yes. “You need to spend money to make money.” Sometimes that's completely true. Recording, touring, marketing, content, publicity, equipment, and countless other parts of building a music career cost money. The phrase becomes a red flag when it's used to shut down legitimate questions about results. If every disappointing campaign ends with someone telling you the solution is simply to pay them more, start asking what your previous investment actually accomplished. “I’ve worked with major artists, so you need to trust me.” A recognizable name on someone's résumé can be impressive. It isn't due diligence. Ask what they actually did for those artists, when they worked together, and whether that experience is relevant to what they're proposing for you. Someone's past client list doesn't automatically make every future offer legitimate, effective, or appropriate. “This is just how the music industry works.” The music industry has a long history of unfair contracts, questionable accounting, exploitation, and artists losing control of valuable work. Tradition doesn't make a bad arrangement good. There are industry standards worth understanding, but “that's just how it works” shouldn't be the end of a conversation about something that affects your money, rights, or career. Ask why it works that way and whether the terms actually make sense for you. “You’ll never make it without me.” This might be the biggest red flag on the list. Great managers, producers, labels, publicists, agents, and collaborators can completely change the trajectory of an artist's career. But healthy professional relationships create value without convincing artists that they're powerless on their own. Be cautious when mentorship becomes control, support becomes dependency, or someone's contribution to your career becomes justification for controlling your future. No single person should need you to believe that your career disappears without them. Learn to Stop Before You Say Yes Independent artists are constantly told to hustle harder, network more, take opportunities, invest in themselves, and never let a chance pass them by. Sometimes the smarter career move is stopping long enough to ask questions. Who benefits from this agreement? What am I giving up? What am I receiving? Is it written down? Can the claims being made actually be verified? What happens if this relationship doesn't work out? A red flag doesn't always mean you immediately walk away. It means you don't ignore what you're seeing. The goal isn't to become suspicious of everyone in the music industry. There are countless managers, publicists, producers, labels, journalists, agents, and other professionals doing legitimate work and genuinely helping independent artists build sustainable careers. The goal is to know the difference between someone asking you to take a reasonable career risk and someone asking you to stop protecting yourself. Because sometimes the most important word an independent artist can learn to say isn't “yes.” It's “why?”

For independent artists, getting discovered doesn’t start and end with Spotify’s algorithm or social media. Search matters too. Think about what happens when a potential fan hears your name for the first time. They Google you. A journalist considering coverage does the same thing. So might a promoter, booking agent, playlist curator, or potential collaborator. What they find can shape their perception of your career before they ever press play. Search engine optimization (SEO) sounds technical, but the fundamentals are surprisingly straightforward. You don’t need to become an SEO expert. You need to make it as easy as possible for Google to understand who you are, what music belongs to you, and where people can find more. Here are 13 ways independent artists can start building a stronger search presence. 1. Keep Your Artist Name Consistent Everywhere This sounds basic, but consistency matters. Use the same spelling and formatting of your artist name across your website, Spotify, Apple Music, YouTube, Instagram, TikTok, press materials, and other major platforms. If one profile uses “The Example,” another uses “Example,” and your website calls you “Example Music,” you’re creating unnecessary confusion. Search engines are constantly trying to connect information across different websites. Give them a clear and consistent identity to work with. 2. Google Yourself Regularly You need to know what people see when they search for you. Start with your artist name, then search variations such as your artist name + music, your artist name + genre, your artist name + city, and your artist name + song title. Look beyond whether your Instagram appears first. Are your latest releases showing up? Is outdated information ranking prominently? Is another artist dominating your name? Your Google results are essentially part of your digital résumé. Check them regularly. 3. Own Your Artist Website Social media is important, but your website is one of the few online spaces you actually control. It should clearly establish who you are and give visitors access to your music, biography, videos, press coverage, photos, social platforms, upcoming shows, and contact information. More importantly for SEO, your website gives search engines a central destination to associate with your artist identity. Keep it updated. An abandoned artist website advertising a release from four years ago isn't doing you any favors. 4. Make Your Bio Search-Friendly Your artist bio shouldn't be a wall of vague statements about creating music that “transcends boundaries.” Give Google some actual information. Naturally include your artist name, location, genre, notable releases, collaborators, accomplishments, and other relevant information someone might search for. That doesn't mean stuffing the same keywords into every sentence. Write for humans first, but make sure your bio actually explains who you are. 5. Optimize Your YouTube Titles and Descriptions YouTube is a search engine too. Instead of uploading your video with a vague title, use a clear structure such as: Artist Name – Song Title (Official Music Video) Then use the description. Include your artist name, song title, information about the release, credits, official website, streaming destinations, and relevant social profiles. A great music video deserves more than a two-word description and a fire emoji. 6. Build Legitimate Online Press Every credible interview, review, feature, or premiere creates another searchable page connected to your artist name. The more quality coverage you build, the easier it becomes for Google and new listeners to understand who you are and find information about your career. Don't let that coverage disappear after release week either. Add your press to your website, share it across your platforms, and maintain an archive of notable coverage. Quality matters more than collecting hundreds of random links. Relevant, established publications carry far more value than spammy websites created purely to publish content. 7. Create Individual Pages for Important Releases Don't make your entire catalog live exclusively on one generic “Music” page. Consider creating dedicated pages for important singles, EPs, and albums. Include the release title, artwork, description, credits, music video, streaming links, and relevant information. Now, when someone searches Artist Name + Song Title, your own website has a page specifically dedicated to that search. As your catalog grows, these pages also create a searchable history of your career. 8. Optimize Your Images Before uploading a press photo to your website, look at the filename. IMG_8274.jpg tells a search engine almost nothing. Something like artist-name-press-photo-2026.jpg provides significantly more context. Use descriptive filenames and add accurate alt text to images when your website platform allows it. It's a small habit that contributes to a better-organized, more accessible website. 9. Get Ahead of Artist-Name Confusion Sharing a name with another artist can become a serious discoverability problem. If another musician has the same or a similar name, consistently connect yours with identifying information such as your genre, location, website, releases, and official profiles. You want Google to understand that these are two separate artists, and you want listeners to immediately know they've found the right one. If you're choosing an artist name for the first time, Google it before building an entire brand around it. 10. Don't Delete Old Press or Release Pages A new era doesn't require deleting your old one. Older release pages and press coverage can continue appearing in searches and contributing to your overall online footprint years later. Deleting pages can also create broken links if other websites have linked to them. When redesigning your website, think carefully before wiping out older content. Keep valuable pages live, update them when necessary, or properly redirect outdated URLs to relevant new pages. Your searchable history becomes more valuable as your career grows. 11. Connect Your Digital Ecosystem Your online presence shouldn't feel like 15 unrelated accounts. Your website should link to your official social profiles and streaming platforms. Your YouTube channel should connect people back to your website and music. Your social profiles should clearly point toward your official releases and other destinations. This isn't only about SEO. It's about removing friction. If someone discovers you through one platform, getting to your music shouldn't require detective work. 12. Use Google Search Console Google Search Console is free and shows you how people are actually finding your website through Google. You can see which searches are leading people to your site, which pages are receiving clicks, and whether Google is properly indexing your content. It can also reveal something artists rarely get to see: what people are searching immediately before discovering you. For independent artists trying to understand their digital presence, it's essentially a free look behind the curtain of their SEO. 13. Think About SEO Before You Release SEO shouldn't be something you remember three months after dropping a song. Before your next release, Google the song title. Check how competitive the search results are. Make sure your website is current. Prepare a dedicated release page. Optimize your YouTube upload. Update your bio and press materials. Keep your artist name consistent everywhere. Then keep building after release day. SEO is cumulative. One interview, optimized page, YouTube video, or Google result probably won't dramatically change your discoverability overnight. But five years of consistent releases, credible press coverage, optimized content, interconnected profiles, and a well-maintained website creates something much harder to replicate: a legitimate digital footprint. Your Online Presence Is Part of Your Artist Brand Independent artists spend enormous amounts of time thinking about how their music sounds and how their visuals look. How easily people can find all of it deserves the same attention. You don't need to manipulate Google or chase obscure SEO tricks. You need to create a clear trail. Someone should be able to hear your artist name once, search for you, immediately find the right person, understand your story, discover your music, and know where to go next. That's good SEO. More importantly, that's good artist development.

For the past few years, artificial intelligence has been treated like the music industry's dirty little secret. Artists condemned it. Labels warned about it. Fans accused musicians of using it whenever a vocal sounded slightly unnatural or a cover looked suspiciously polished. Meanwhile, generative AI platforms continued improving at a ridiculous pace, becoming capable of producing vocals, instrumentals, arrangements, demos and, increasingly, entire songs. Now, something is changing. Artists aren't simply experimenting with AI behind closed doors anymore. Some are openly admitting they use it, defending it and, in certain cases, questioning why anyone should care. That shift became impossible to ignore this week. Tyga Says He Used AI. He Also Says He Doesn't Care. Tyga has confirmed that artificial intelligence played a role in the creation of his new album, $TARFACE. In an interview with VIBE, the rapper discussed using AI as part of the album's production process, particularly while developing its heavily '80s-inspired sound. Rather than allowing AI to write his lyrics or replace his vocals, Tyga said he used the technology to help generate musical elements including synths and guitar solos. His argument is relatively straightforward: AI is a tool. Tyga compared the backlash surrounding artificial intelligence to the reaction Auto-Tune received when it became prominent in popular music. Technologies that initially look like threats to musicianship can eventually become ordinary pieces of the production process. And when it comes to potential criticism, Tyga isn't exactly losing sleep over it. "I don't care," he told VIBE while discussing the possibility that listeners might react negatively to his use of AI. The distinction Tyga makes is important. According to him, the vocals are his. The lyrics are his. AI simply helped accelerate parts of the production process. That might sound considerably different from typing "make me a hit song" into a generator, but it also exposes the increasingly complicated problem with discussing "AI music." That phrase now describes wildly different things. An artist using machine learning to clean up an old recording is technically using AI. So is a producer generating a guitar part. So is someone cloning another artist's voice. So is a person generating an entire song from a text prompt without playing a single instrument. Treating all four as identical doesn't make much sense. Then There's Fenix Flexin The debate became considerably messier around Fenix Flexin's unexpected synth-pop hit "Rubberz." The Shoreline Mafia rapper's dramatic stylistic pivot raised eyebrows almost immediately. Instead of the West Coast rap associated with his catalog, "Rubberz" leaned into glossy '80s-inspired synth-pop, complete with an unusual vocal performance. Listeners started asking whether AI was involved. Fenix initially pushed back against those accusations. But scrutiny intensified after producer Medasin investigated the track and highlighted evidence potentially connecting it to the generative music platform Treblo, formerly known as Sonauto. Treblo subsequently released an AI detection tool that identified "Rubberz" as very likely having been created using its model. Fenix has since acknowledged AI's involvement while maintaining that he personally recorded the vocals and saying he only became aware of the AI component later in the production process. The controversy matters for a reason that goes beyond one song. Listeners don't necessarily seem angry that technology was involved. A major source of the backlash has been uncertainty about what exactly was used and when. That distinction is probably going to define the next era of music. The issue may not simply be AI. It may be disclosure. Empire of the Sun's Luke Steele Isn't Hiding It Either While some artists remain cautious about attaching themselves to AI, Empire of the Sun's Luke Steele is going in the opposite direction. In a recent interview with iHeartRadio Canada, Steele openly confirmed that he uses AI, comparing the technology to an extremely intelligent guitar pedal. His broader argument is even more revealing. Steele believes musicians who completely reject AI risk being overtaken by artists willing to understand and manipulate it. Whether you agree with him or not, that mindset is increasingly common. The question is shifting from "Should musicians use AI?" to "How should musicians use AI?" That's a dramatically different conversation. Timbaland Has Gone Even Further Few major producers have embraced the technology as aggressively as Timbaland. Rather than quietly adding AI tools to his existing workflow, the legendary producer has made artificial intelligence part of his next business chapter. Timbaland partnered with generative music company Suno and launched Stage Zero, an entertainment company centered around AI-created artists. Its first major project, TaTa Taktumi, arrived as an explicitly AI-generated artist. That means we're no longer discussing AI merely assisting human musicians. We're talking about established producers building new "artists" around the technology itself. Timbaland has even argued that AI offers something contemporary music is currently missing, describing much of modern music as bland while positioning AI as a potential source of new creative energy. It's a provocative stance coming from someone whose production credits helped shape decades of pop, hip-hop and R&B. But it also demonstrates how quickly the industry conversation has moved. AI isn't waiting outside the studio anymore. It's already sitting behind the console. AI Has Already Appeared on Records From Legends There is another side to this conversation that tends to get lost whenever "AI music" becomes shorthand for completely generated songs. The Beatles used machine learning technology to help complete "Now And Then," released in 2023. John Lennon originally recorded the song as a home demo in the 1970s. When the surviving Beatles attempted to work with the recording in the 1990s, technological limitations made it difficult to properly separate Lennon's vocal from the piano and background noise. Decades later, technology developed by Peter Jackson's WingNut Films team changed that. Machine-assisted learning was used to isolate Lennon's actual vocal performance from the original recording. Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr could then build the finished record around a significantly cleaner version of his voice. That's a crucial distinction. AI didn't write Lennon's lyrics or generate a fake Lennon performance. It helped engineers recover an existing human performance that previously couldn't be properly isolated. The result became the final Beatles song. Suddenly, declaring that "AI has no place in music" becomes a little harder. Randy Travis Shows What AI Can Do When Consent Is Clear Perhaps the strongest argument for AI-assisted music arrived through Randy Travis. The country legend suffered a devastating stroke in 2013 that severely affected his ability to speak and sing. More than a decade later, AI helped make new Randy Travis music possible. For 2024's "Where That Came From," developers created proprietary AI models using vocal stems from Travis' career. Singer James Dupré provided the underlying vocal performance, while longtime Travis producer Kyle Lehning meticulously shaped the resulting AI-assisted vocal to resemble Travis. Most importantly, Travis and his team approved the project. The technology wasn't being used to impersonate an unwilling artist. It was being used with the artist's participation to restore an ability he had physically lost. That makes the ethical equation radically different from an anonymous creator cloning Drake's voice and uploading a fake collaboration to Spotify. AI itself isn't making that distinction. Humans have to. Imogen Heap Wants Artists to Own Their AI Selves Imogen Heap has approached the issue from yet another direction. Instead of waiting for companies or strangers to create unauthorized versions of her voice, Heap intentionally developed her own private voice model, ai.Mogen. Heap says the model has already appeared on other songs and can enable collaborations that might otherwise be impossible because of scheduling and time constraints. That idea could ultimately become one of the most significant developments in the entire AI debate. If artificial versions of famous voices are inevitable, artists may decide the smartest move isn't preventing them from existing. It might be owning them. Imagine an artist licensing an official voice model the same way they currently approve a sample, feature, or sync placement. Producers could request access. Artists could approve specific uses. Royalties could be attached. Unauthorized models could be distinguished from official ones. The technology doesn't automatically have to remove artists from the equation. Potentially, it could create another asset for artists to control. The Real Problem Is Becoming Transparency There is an obvious difference between using AI to isolate a vocal recording and asking a generator to produce an entire song. There is also a difference between cloning your own voice and cloning someone else's without permission. And there is definitely a difference between experimenting with AI in production and secretly releasing generated music while presenting every element as traditionally created. That's why the industry's obsession with determining whether something is simply "AI" or "not AI" is already becoming outdated. The better questions are more specific. What did the AI actually do? Who trained the model? What material was used to train it? Did the people whose work or voices were involved consent? Which parts of the finished recording were created by humans? And does the listener deserve to know? Those questions aren't going away. AI Music Isn't Coming. It's Here. For years, the music business discussed artificial intelligence like some approaching technological storm. That framing no longer works. Tyga is openly discussing using it on an album. Fenix Flexin is defending AI as part of modern music production. Luke Steele says artists who reject it risk being left behind. Timbaland has built an entertainment company around it. Imogen Heap has created a model of her own voice. Randy Travis used it to sing again. The Beatles used machine learning to finish a recording that had been sitting incomplete for decades. These aren't anonymous Spotify accounts generating fake songs. They're established artists, producers and estates experimenting with different versions of the same rapidly evolving technology. That doesn't mean every use of AI deserves acceptance. Far from it. There are enormous unresolved questions surrounding copyright, training data, compensation, consent and what happens to working musicians when labels can generate usable material in seconds. There is also something deeply uncomfortable about a creative economy where the recorded work of thousands of musicians could potentially train systems designed to reduce the need to hire musicians in the future. Those concerns shouldn't be dismissed as artists simply being afraid of technology. But pretending AI can still be kept completely outside the recording studio isn't realistic either. The line has already been crossed. What matters now is where the industry draws the next one. Because the most important debate in music may no longer be whether artists use artificial intelligence. It's whether they'll tell us when they do.

After a brief hiatus from releasing music, Erin Kirby returns with "Some Version of It," a bright, uplifting single that signals an exciting new chapter for the Georgia-born singer-songwriter. Blending contemporary pop melodies with modern country storytelling, the track showcases the warmth, vulnerability, and vocal confidence that have become hallmarks of Kirby's evolving sound. Built around the optimism of believing love is still worth chasing, "Some Version of It" offers a refreshing perspective in a genre often dominated by heartbreak. Rather than dwelling on disappointment, Kirby leans into hope, reminding listeners that every setback brings them one step closer to the relationship they're meant to find. It's a message delivered with sincerity, making the song feel both relatable and genuinely encouraging. Musically, the single strikes an engaging balance between polished country production and radio-ready pop energy. Bright acoustic guitars, an infectious rhythm, and soaring vocals give the track an undeniable sense of momentum, while the chorus is crafted with the kind of effortless catchiness that lingers long after the final note. Co-written alongside Joe Clemmons, Neil Medley, and Aaron Eshuis, and produced by Eshuis, the song pairs commercial appeal with heartfelt songwriting. Kirby's vocal performance remains the centerpiece throughout. Her expressive delivery effortlessly shifts between intimate verses and an anthemic chorus, allowing the emotion behind the lyrics to shine without sacrificing the track's feel-good energy. It's a performance that reflects both her technical ability and growing confidence as an artist embracing a fresh creative direction. With "Some Version of It," Erin Kirby delivers more than an infectious country-pop single—she delivers a reminder that optimism can be just as powerful as heartbreak. As her first release in some time, the song serves as a confident reintroduction, blending contemporary production with timeless themes of hope, resilience, and believing that the right chapter is still waiting to be written. "Some Version of It" is rooted in hope at a time when many love songs focus on heartbreak. What inspired you to tell the story from the perspective of someone who still believes love is worth waiting for? I believe love is real, and sometimes the anticipation that builds up while searching for it makes it even better! I have heard so many failed dating stories from fans and friends, and most of the time they end with "what's the point," or "I am giving up on love." I want listeners to hear this song and feel inspired to keep going...keep going out on first dates, keep working on yourself, and keep taking that step of faith. Love is special, and it is absolutely worth waiting for! You've described your sound as "Adele Country," blending soulful vocals with contemporary country storytelling. How do you balance those pop influences while staying authentic to your country roots? I believe that storytelling is the true heart of country music. Instruments and sounds add to the story, of course, but I am always pulled in by the lyricism of a song. I have recently found myself breaking the 'rules' of country music by venturing out with my melody choices. Through my newest release, I was able to conjoin a fun melodic vocal with a relatable, motivational story. This marks your first release in a while and introduces a fresh creative direction. What changed during that time away, both personally and artistically, that shaped this next chapter of your career? I originally found my love for music through artists like Adele, Sam Smith, and Nina Simone...so when I realized I connected with country music at 17, I tried to hide the parts of me that existed before. Over the last couple of years, I realized I needed to embrace my past, and it reignited my fire for music. I started listening to more genres and was inspired by so many new artists. I started co-writing with Aaron Eshuis, and we unintentionally created this sound that could only be explained as me, Erin Kirby! You collaborated with acclaimed songwriters Joe Clemmons, Neil Medley, and Aaron Eshuis on this track. What did each of those collaborators bring to the songwriting process, and what did you learn from working alongside them? Eshuis, Clemmons, and Medley are some of my favorite people to work with! We bent the rules the day we wrote "Some Version of It." We tried lots of different melodies and guitar parts, listened to and got inspired by songs in other genres, and let the session be fun! That day was easy, and the song came out in just a few hours. These guys have taught me that songwriting is supposed to be exciting, creative, and healing. You've already performed at iconic venues like the Grand Ole Opry and built an impressive résumé at an early stage in your career. As you step into this new era with "Some Version of It," what kind of artist do you hope listeners see you becoming over the next few years? I hope my career will become a testimony that I can share to inspire up-and-coming artists just like me one day! I would love listeners to see me become someone like Jessie J, Russell Dickerson, or Adele. Each of these artists has fabulous voices with big stories to tell, all while remaining humble and fully themselves.

Multidisciplinary artist Chris Koehn has released "Inside," a new shoegaze-inspired single featuring acclaimed singer-songwriter Joseph Arthur. Blending dreamy textures, post-punk influences, and ambient soundscapes, the track continues Koehn's ongoing exploration of mindfulness, impermanence, and emotional healing, offering a reflective listening experience that encourages presence over distraction. Rather than searching for external answers, "Inside" turns its focus inward. Built around the idea that purpose isn't something to discover but something to remember, the song unfolds as both a meditation and an invitation to reconnect with the self. Koehn's understated songwriting avoids heavy-handed messaging, instead allowing spacious instrumentation and evocative lyrics to guide listeners toward their own interpretations. Musically, "Inside" balances ethereal atmospheres with a subtle sense of momentum. Recorded with analog techniques, including drums tracked on a vintage Tascam 8-track recorder at Chapel Studio, the production carries an organic warmth that complements its immersive soundscape. Layers of shimmering guitars, ambient textures, and restrained percussion create a sonic environment that feels equally suited for quiet reflection and late-night drives. A standout element is Joseph Arthur's soaring falsetto, which brings added emotional depth without overpowering the song's intimate character. His harmonies blend seamlessly with Koehn's vocals, elevating the track while reinforcing its themes of connection, vulnerability, and transcendence. Beneath its atmospheric production, "Inside" reveals multiple layers of meaning. The lyrics explore personal awakening, spiritual connection, and the influence of Eckhart Tolle's philosophy on presence and ego, allowing the song to resonate on emotional, philosophical, and even cosmic levels. That openness is one of its greatest strengths, inviting each listener to find their own interpretation rather than prescribing one. With "Inside," Chris Koehn continues to blur the boundaries between music, meditation, and art. The result is a beautifully understated single that reminds us that sometimes the most meaningful journeys don't lead outward; they begin within. "Inside" explores the idea that our purpose is something we remember rather than something we discover. What first sparked that philosophy, and how did it evolve into this song? Maybe a couple of years ago, with a few psychedelic journeys where I got to feel this connection to the Universe and to a deeper meaning to our lives. Gaspar Noe´s movie Enter The Void and Zen Buddhism teachings probably triggered that too. Joseph Arthur returns as a collaborator on "Inside." What makes your creative partnership work so well, and how did his vocals transform the emotional direction of the track? Joe is an amazing & talented artist; it amazes me how he can find these spaces on the songs and create such beautiful falsetto harmonies around it. I believe our creative partnership works so well first because of his talent and how he finds these ways to play around my lower vocals. As he recently said to me, “ We have great chemistry on these tracks “ They brought a magic dimension to the track and gave a more emotional vibe. I’m honored to work with him for this second time. The lyrics can be interpreted on multiple levels: personal, spiritual, and even cosmic. Was it important to leave space for listeners to create their own meaning, or did you have a specific interpretation you hoped they'd connect with? There are 3 layers of reading the lyrics on the song. One with the main message about going inside to remember who we are. A second one, more cosmic/erotic, about connecting with the Universe’s Energy & light. (And entering that light tunnel) : Can you feel me inside Arousal through your neck and spine Light opens lips Your heart is beating fast Connecting all your senses into now. And a third one inspired by one of my favorite books from last year, Eckhart Tolle´s A New Earth: “ A New Earth is approaching now Ego´s Freedom, one with who we are, Allow this moment to be as it is Surrender into the universe's kiss Inside. “ Although this is my interpretation, I always enjoy hearing what listeners connected to and their own meaning. That’s the beauty of art and music; it always resonates differently and creates many interesting interpretations. Your work spans music, architecture, painting, and photography, yet they all seem connected by themes of stillness, light, and impermanence. How does creating "Inside" reflect your broader artistic philosophy across these different mediums? With my brother´s death in 2003, I connected deeply with these different art mediums and expressions. Both to heal myself and also to help others heal too. So my main intention through all these disciplines is to share & create a moment of calm. To connect with that peace inside we all carry and sometimes forget. On the inside, this invitation remains as a way to see and remember who we truly are to live more present and in contentment. You've described this song as an invitation to pause and reconnect with the present moment. In a world driven by constant noise and distraction, what does 'going inside' personally look like for you today, and how do you hope listeners carry that practice beyond the music? To go inside means for me to stop distracting myself with social media, relationships that don’t feed your soul, and avoiding being by yourself, and acknowledging your feelings. To meditate, to sit in silence, to eat healthy, to walk in Nature, to create what you love most (painting, music, dance, poems, cinema, whatever makes your heart sing), and to be at peace with yourself in this very moment, which is all we have.

For Nayma Rias, Red Reloaded is more than a collection of songs. It is a declaration of self. The South African singer-songwriter steps confidently into a new era with a project that feels deeply personal, culturally rich, and emotionally resonant. Blending Afro-fusion, Afrobeats, amapiano, R&B, pop, and tropical influences, Red Reloaded showcases an artist who is no longer afraid to embrace every layer of her identity. At the heart of the EP is Nayma's celebration of her Angolan and Mozambican heritage. Tracks like "Soso" and "Amor Fica" beautifully connect her Lusophone roots with the South African sounds that shaped her upbringing. "Soso" captures the bittersweet pull of nostalgia and longing for home, while "Amor Fica" delivers an amapiano-infused exploration of commitment and choosing love despite life's challenges. Elsewhere, Nayma explores the complexities of modern womanhood. "Boy Toy" radiates confidence and feminine empowerment, challenging perceptions of women as objects to be admired rather than understood. "Da Vibe" continues that journey through themes of attraction, intuition, and self-worth, wrapped in infectious rhythms and dancefloor-ready energy. As the project unfolds, the emotional depth intensifies. "BestFriend" and "Folding" examine the fragile space between friendship, romance, heartbreak, and reconciliation. These moments feel honest and relatable, capturing the uncertainty and vulnerability that often accompany love. Perhaps the most moving chapter arrives with "Hats of 89," a reflection on healing, faith, and surrender. Through heartbreak and disappointment, Nayma finds strength in her relationship with Jesus Christ, offering a message of patience, restoration, and trust in God's timing. From beginning to end, Red Reloaded feels intentional. Each song represents a different shade of love, growth, heartbreak, courage, and transformation. It is a project rooted in authenticity and cultural pride while remaining universally relatable. For Nayma Rias, this is not simply a reintroduction. It is the sound of an artist fully stepping into her purpose. Red Reloaded feels like a major turning point in your artistic journey. What was the defining moment that gave you the confidence to fully embrace your identity and Lusophone roots in your music? I don't think there was a single moment, but rather a series of experiences, events, and a growing fear of getting older without accomplishing my dreams as Nayma that led me to this point. For a long time, I was trying to figure out where I fit as an artist and what my unique contribution could be. As I grew both personally and creatively, I realized that the things I was sometimes hesitant to fully embrace, such as my Angolan and Mozambican heritage, my love for different genres, my faith, and my life experiences, were actually the very things that made my story unique. The defining shift came when I stopped creating from a place of fear and started creating from a place of authenticity. I realized I didn't have to separate the different parts of who I am. I could be a South African artist who proudly celebrates her Lusophone roots. I could blend Portuguese influences with R&B, amapiano, Afrobeats, and pop. I could honor both where I come from and where I was raised. Working on Red Reloaded gave me the freedom to lean into that fully. Songs like "Soso" and "Amor Fica" became beautiful reminders of my connection to Angola and Mozambique while also celebrating the South African sounds that shaped me. Once I embraced that, everything felt more natural, more honest, and more aligned with the artist I am becoming. That confidence came from understanding that authenticity is far more powerful than trying to fit into a box and from walking in faith, which helped eliminate the fear of judgment from the outside world. Throughout the EP, you blend amapiano, Afrobeats, R&B, pop, and Portuguese influences. How did you approach balancing these sounds while maintaining a cohesive vision for the project? For me, the cohesion came from the storytelling rather than the genre itself. While Red Reloaded explores different sounds, from amapiano and Afrobeats to R&B, pop, and Portuguese influences, every song is connected by the emotions and experiences that inspired the project. At its core, the EP is about growth, love, heartbreak, faith, self-discovery, and transformation, so no matter where the production goes, the narrative remains consistent. I approached each song by asking what sound would best serve the story I wanted to tell. For example, "Soso" needed to feel warm, nostalgic, and connected to home, while "Amor Fica" naturally called for the energy of amapiano blended with Portuguese influences and a story centered around love. "Boy Toy" and "Da Vibe" allowed me to explore confidence, femininity, and empowerment through more playful and upbeat production, whereas songs like "BestFriend," "Folding," and "Hats of 89" required a more vulnerable and reflective approach. Because R&B has always been at the heart of my artistry, it became the thread that ties everything together, along with the pop influences I wanted to explore. Even as I experimented with different genres and cultural influences, I made sure my vocal delivery, songwriting, and emotional honesty remained consistent throughout the project. That allowed me to explore creatively while still maintaining a clear identity and cohesive vision for Red Reloaded. Songs like "Boy Toy" and "Da Vibe" explore feminine empowerment and self-worth. How has your relationship with confidence and womanhood evolved since the beginning of your career? My relationship with confidence and womanhood has evolved tremendously since the beginning of my career. When I first started, I was still discovering who I was, not only as an artist but as a young woman grieving the loss of my father during a pandemic while completing my studies. I often found myself seeking validation, questioning my abilities, and worrying about whether I was making the right decisions or fitting into people's expectations. As I've grown, I've realized that confidence isn't about having all the answers or never experiencing insecurity. It's about knowing who you are, trusting your voice, and being comfortable taking up space without apologizing for it. I've learned to embrace every part of myself: my culture, my femininity, my faith, my strengths, and even my vulnerabilities. Those are the things that have shaped both my identity and my artistry. Songs like "Boy Toy" and "Da Vibe" reflect that growth. "Boy Toy" speaks to the experience of being seen for your appearance while wanting people to understand the person beneath the surface. It's playful and confident, but it also carries an important message about self-worth. "Da Vibe" explores trusting your intuition and recognizing your value, even when you're drawn to someone who seems perfect on the surface. Today, I view womanhood as something incredibly powerful and multifaceted. It includes softness and strength, vulnerability and resilience, romance and independence, all of which have been shaped by my faith. Red Reloaded captures different shades of that journey, and I think the biggest lesson I've learned is that true confidence comes from embracing who you are authentically rather than trying to become who others expect you to be. Faith plays a significant role in tracks like "Hats of 89." How has your spiritual journey influenced both your personal growth and the way you create music today? My spiritual journey has influenced every aspect of my life, both personally and creatively. As I've grown older, I've come to understand that faith isn't just something I turn to during difficult moments. It's become the foundation that guides my decisions, shapes my perspective, and keeps me grounded through every season. Like many people, I've experienced disappointment, heartbreak, uncertainty, grief, and moments where things didn't unfold the way I hoped they would. In those moments, my relationship with Jesus Christ deepened because I learned to trust God's timing rather than my own. That hasn't always been easy, but it's taught me patience, resilience, and the importance of surrendering what I can't control. That journey is reflected in "Hats of 89." The song was born from a place of heartbreak, healing, and reflection. It speaks to the process of bringing your pain to God, trusting Him with the outcome, and understanding that healing is often a journey rather than an overnight transformation. For me, it's both a personal testimony and a prayer of surrender. As a songwriter, faith has also changed the way I create. I'm more intentional about telling honest stories and creating music that reflects real experiences. Whether I'm singing about love, heartbreak, empowerment, or healing, I want there to be truth at the center of it. My faith reminds me that purpose is greater than popularity and that the most meaningful art often comes from being vulnerable enough to share your journey with others. If my music can encourage someone, help them feel seen, or remind them that there is hope even in difficult seasons, then I feel I've fulfilled part of that purpose. The color red symbolizes passion, heartbreak, courage, faith, and transformation throughout the EP. If listeners could take away just one lesson from Red Reloaded, what would you want that lesson to be? If listeners could take away one lesson from Red Reloaded, I would want it to be that growth is possible in every season of life, even the difficult ones. So often, we view heartbreak, disappointment, uncertainty, or setbacks as the end of something, but I've learned that those moments can also be the beginning of transformation if we're willing to learn from them. The color red represents so many different emotions throughout the EP: love, passion, desire, heartbreak, courage, faith, and healing. Each song explores a different shade of the human experience, but together they tell a story of becoming. Becoming more confident, more self-aware, more resilient, and more accepting of who you are. I hope people walk away understanding that they don't have to hide parts of themselves to be worthy of love, success, or happiness. Whether it's your culture, your story, your faith, your flaws, or your dreams, those things are all part of what makes you unique. Red Reloaded was created from a place of embracing every part of my identity, and I hope it encourages others to do the same. Most importantly, I hope listeners leave with the courage to keep moving forward. Healing takes time, growth isn't always comfortable, and life rarely unfolds exactly as we plan. But every experience, both the beautiful and the painful, has the potential to shape us into who we're meant to become. If someone finishes this project feeling encouraged to trust their journey, embrace their evolution, and keep believing that there is purpose in every season, then that's the greatest takeaway I could hope for.

With "To Warm a Cold Heart," The Star Prairie Project continues its thoughtful approach to modern rock, delivering a ballad that values emotional intelligence as much as musical craftsmanship. Serving as the second preview of the band's upcoming tenth studio album, Shadows on the Wall, the single builds on the reflective spirit established by "Things Don't Last" while exploring empathy as an act of quiet resistance. Rather than relying on grand statements, the song finds its strength in subtle contrasts. Gentle arpeggiated guitar lines create an intimate atmosphere before expanding into soaring instrumental passages that give the track a cinematic quality. Sandrine Orsini's expressive vocal performance carries both vulnerability and conviction, while Ricardo Dikk's guitar work provides moments of emotional release without overshadowing the song's central message. Inspired by songwriter Nolen R. Chew Jr.'s reflection on the challenge of softening a hardened heart, the lyrics encourage listeners to see compassion as an active choice rather than a passive emotion. The song avoids becoming overly sentimental by acknowledging that kindness often requires courage, particularly in a world where cynicism can feel easier than understanding. What makes "To Warm a Cold Heart" resonate is its willingness to ask questions instead of supplying easy answers. The composition leaves space for personal interpretation, inviting listeners to examine their own relationships and perspectives long after the final notes fade. As anticipation grows for Shadows on the Wall, The Star Prairie Project demonstrates that meaningful rock music can still challenge the mind while connecting with the heart. It's a thoughtful, beautifully arranged release that rewards listeners willing to sit with its message.

New York-born and Barcelona-based artist Mama Cleo just released her latest single, Rollercoaster, a heartfelt pop release that captures the emotional rush of falling in love. Following the release of Sacred Heart earlier this year, the new track continues Mama Cleo's exploration of vulnerability, femininity, and emotional honesty while blending pop, Latin, and soul influences into an immersive listening experience. Rather than portraying love as a polished fairytale, Rollercoaster celebrates the uncertainty that makes genuine connection so transformative. Built around expressive vocals and warm, rhythm-driven production, the song mirrors the emotional peaks and valleys suggested by its title. Mama Cleo's classical vocal training shines throughout, giving each lyric a sense of intention without sacrificing the accessibility of modern pop. Lyrically, the single stands out for its perspective. Instead of focusing solely on the relationship itself, Mama Cleo reflects on the instinctive feeling that someone life-changing was already on the horizon before they ever arrived. That concept gives Rollercoaster a cinematic quality, balancing anticipation, vulnerability, and surrender in a way that feels both intimate and universally relatable. The blend of soulful melodies with subtle Latin influences adds movement to the song, allowing the production to rise and fall alongside the emotions it explores. What makes Rollercoaster especially compelling is its refusal to fear emotional risk. Mama Cleo reminds listeners that love is rarely predictable, but that's exactly what gives it meaning. As the latest chapter in an ongoing run of releases, the single reinforces her ability to turn deeply personal experiences into songs that invite listeners to embrace every twist, turn, and unexpected moment along the way. Rollercoaster explores the emotional unpredictability of love rather than presenting a perfect romance. Was there a specific moment in your life that inspired you to write from that perspective? The specific moment is very personal to me- a few weeks before I met my partner, I kept having a feeling like I was at the top of a rollercoaster that was about to drop. But even in that great relationship and for the audience, I wanted the song to encompass all of the ups, downs, horrors, and ecstasy that love can bring and being open to experiencing it regardless. Your music blends pop, Latin, and soul influences while drawing from your classical vocal training. How do you balance those different musical worlds without losing your artistic identity? Honestly, I just create from the heart, and what comes out is everything that I have grown to love and has made me an artist up until this point. If you're doing it right, I don't think you have a choice but to become your influences. I think more and more listeners don't care about rigid genres and just want to connect with art that feels real. You describe your music as existing between "the holy and the human." How has that philosophy shaped both Rollercoaster and the broader direction of your upcoming releases? It goes back to being willing to be honest, and the honest truth is that life is full of beauty and ugliness. Like a lot of us, I aspire to be holy, but humanity is not something I can escape. Having grown up in New York and now living in Barcelona, how have those two cities influenced your songwriting, creativity, and the sound you're building as Mama Cleo? There is nothing quite like growing up in NYC, and I credit it with exposing me to so many different people and cultures and shaping me into the hustler I am today. I love Barcelona because it is so vibrant, warm, and happy, and to me, it's like a big hug that has given me the calm and space I needed to create Mama Cleo's world with confidence. Rollercoaster is the second step in a series of releases this year. What story are you hoping listeners will uncover as they experience each song together? I am hoping that listeners get to know my world, the kinds of sounds and vulnerability I write with, and feel their own experiences come out through it. It's the introduction to a long journey to come.

Sometimes the most powerful dance records are the ones that ask listeners to stop moving for just a moment. On his latest single, "CHANGEURMIND," Nashville-based electronic artist OBEE captures that rare balance between introspection and exhilaration, delivering a track that feels equally suited for late-night drives and packed dance floors. As the first glimpse into his upcoming fall album, "CHANGEURMIND" marks a noticeable shift from the emotional turbulence that shaped much of his previous work. Rather than dwelling in uncertainty, OBEE leans into gratitude, writing from the perspective of someone choosing hope even while acknowledging life's inevitable struggles. It's an evolution that feels earned rather than forced. Musically, the track showcases the producer's genre-fluid instincts. Bright synth textures, crisp percussion, and pulsating electronic rhythms borrow from house, UK garage, and modern pop without becoming confined to any one lane. Every production choice serves the song's uplifting message, building toward euphoric moments that feel like emotional release instead of predictable festival drops. What makes "CHANGEURMIND" particularly compelling is its sincerity. OBEE isn't pretending that everything is perfect. Instead, he recognizes how easy it is to become consumed by anxiety, self-doubt, and the constant noise of everyday life before gently pulling both himself and the listener back into the present. That perspective transforms the song into something bigger than a motivational anthem. It becomes a reminder that resilience often begins with changing the conversation happening inside your own head. The release also hints at exciting things ahead. If "CHANGEURMIND" represents the emotional starting point for OBEE's upcoming record, listeners can expect an album willing to embrace both darkness and light without sacrificing the cinematic electronic sound that has become his signature. For anyone searching for a dance track that offers more than a temporary escape, OBEE proves optimism can hit just as hard as melancholy. CHANGEURMIND" feels like a conscious shift toward optimism. What inspired you to start your next album cycle with this particular message? I wanted to write a happier song - one that kind of stops time for a second. I see a lot of people really overthinking and rushing, and searching for something. This age of information overload is awesome, and I feel like we’ve gotten so smart; sometimes we forget to chill out a little and enjoy things. This song’s kind of just about that and being present for a moment. You've described this song as something you wanted to hear during your own workday. How often do you create music specifically for the version of yourself that needs it most? On a subconscious level, probably more than I think. Music holds a lot of power - at a lot of the jobs I’ve worked, I’ve noticed the music playing kind of dictates the vibe of the environment, and it affects the customers too, yanno? I feel like it’s different for everyone; some people listen to study and focus, others listen to it to escape, and some just want a distraction or to feel good. I just make what I like to hear and what feels good to me, and trust that it will resonate with people and find its way to people’s ears. Your production blends electronic pop, UK garage, house, funk, and R&B influences. How do you know when you've found the right balance between experimentation and maintaining the OBEE sound? I spent a long time finding this sound and listening to the music that is at my roots. I think it's just repetition, doing it over and over again, and being really bad at it for a while. I use a lot of the same sounds and samples in most of my songs, and I’ve spent a while building up a catalog of sounds that I like. It took a long time, but understanding the timing and place in the process of hitting the brakes and hitting the gas, yanno. I think it’s important, at least for me, to get a little lost while creating a sound for it to be unique and feel different. Then hitting the gas to structure things and push the song along. The sort of zoom-in, zoom-out ordeal. You mention that your upcoming album still explores the "madness" in your mind. How does "CHANGEURMIND" fit into the larger emotional journey of the record? Hmm—loaded question. From someone who’s a conceptualist, I think it was to sort of break out of my head for a second. I felt like that was the move after putting out SODA, my last record, and I just wanted to create and stop time for a second. The wave for the record kind of began after I wrote those lyrics and started building the production. Looking back on your journey from photographer to producer, how has your background in visual storytelling shaped the way you build atmosphere and emotion in your music? It’s helped a lot, for sure. I like world-building when I make music, and I visualize quite a bit. As a kid, when I thought about the music I loved, I’d often hear the hook and picture the album cover. I feel like these days, a lot of people don’t care much about the visuals; it is about the music in the end. With that said, I think the most respected artists and records have cohesion throughout the project, from audio to visuals. I look at Stevie Wonder’s Innervisions like that, Wolfgang Amadeus by Phoenix, Thriller, Yellow Submarine, etc. I don’t know, haha. I sort of knew what the whole thing was going to be like at the beginning.