CLAIR CLAIR: I feel like we knew pretty early on that we had something special, because of how easily collaborating came to us and how much fun we were having. So it just kind of became our thing and what we did whenever we hung out. 

COCO: Yeah, when you meet someone and just have instant chemistry in that way… to not only create but to share with the rest of the world that creation feels like a very rare thing. It makes it easy to, against all odds, keep nurturing that very special thing you have every time you meet creatively. 

C: I was really into making music videos. I thought I wanted to be a video editor when I was in high school, and only started making music when I ran out of musician friends to make videos for, so that I could make videos for those “songs”. I think one was about Farmville (an old Facebook game). I also made videos for Thieves Like Us back then that were ridiculous. 

CC: I thought I was either going to work in fashion or be an interior designer, so most of my creative focus was on those worlds. Being a musician/singer was always a huge dream of mine, but not something I was actively pursuing until we started this project. 

CC: The tone comes naturally, for sure. The verses, especially, are very similar to how we communicate with each other in our everyday conversations. 

C: The tone definitely comes naturally. There isn’t much thought behind it other than, “What do I want to say, and how would I normally say it?” Or, “Which descriptors really paint a vivid image for the listener?” So then you say, “Oh yeah, his hairline looks like it was left in a ditch.” It just makes sense. 

 C: I was obsessed with The Millionaires and Lil B when I was in middle school. I defended Soulja Boy all 4 years of high school. Being chronically online when I was younger definitely shaped something. But then I feel like my parents actually had good taste, looking back. So, whatever they had going on, mixed with whatever I could get my hands on from Hype Machine, is what led us here. Present day, I’m really out of touch with what’s new and hot most of the time, especially while we’re actively working on new music. This is really different compared to 

how I navigated the music world when I was younger, but I think it helps me keep my filter flavorful in the right way. Kind of like how you don’t clean a cast-iron skillet. 

CC: I don’t have a very powerful voice and can’t really belt it out, so I’ve spent a lot of time listening to artists whose singing styles feel closer to my own abilities. I’m drawn to sweet, intimate, almost detached vocals and performances that feel effortless, like they were recorded in someone’s bedroom. Lily Allen, The Raincoats, POiSON GiRL FRiEND, Grimes, and Tracey Thorn have all influenced and inspired my approach to singing and how I come up with melodies. 

CC: There’s only one time I can remember that happening, and it was in the very early days. I didn’t want to release a certain song, but Coco was like, “Trust me, it’s incredible. People will love it.” So I trusted her, and she was right. People love that song to this day. Generally speaking, though, we don’t often disagree on things. And if we do, I think there’s enough trust and respect between us that we’re pretty comfortable conceding to whoever feels the strongest about it. We’re both very curious and down to try new things. It’s just music, after all, and we just wanna have fun. 

C: Yeah, honestly, I feel like we both have such different strengths and bring so much to the melting pot that is Coco & Clair Clair that usually if one of us feels strongly about a choice or creative decision, we’re both curious and open enough to usually see it through. We’re in a lane of our own with really no rules, and that’s how it all started. So we’re always going to be open to trying new things that either of us brings to the table, especially if we feel strongly about it. I don’t think either one of us has ever led the other astray, so it makes it even easier to trust the process. 

C: As someone who used to have every blog you can imagine, even when I was too young to be anywhere online, I’m really tapped out now. Sometimes I feel like I live under a rock, and honestly, I like it. I just started using TikTok more, but I forget about it for weeks at a time. The internet used to be really fun socially, but it’s kind of turned into a hellscape and not even in a fun way. I’ve found some solace in crazy Facebook groups. I feel like Facebook is the last place to be buckwild online, shame-free. I did post a selfie in a psychic reading group to see what they could tell me about myself, and all I got was that I have “undiagnosed Asperger’s” and “childhood trauma,” so I’m not posting on there anymore. 

CC: My enjoyment of being online ebbs and flows; I definitely don’t like it as much as I used to. I think my golden era was 2011-2017. I still love the social aspect of it and being able to look up anything at any given moment, I just wish it were all a little bit chiller. There’s too much 

going on now, too many people, too many pictures, too much technology. But yeah, I’m grateful for the internet because it gave us a platform and enabled us to easily share our music with the world. I’ve also met some very important people in my life online that I probably wouldn’t have met otherwise, including Coco. 

CCl: When we aren’t recording or touring, I’m in mega relaxation mode. My ideal day off is waking up at 9 a.m., going for a walk with an iced coffee and listening to a podcast, going swimming for a little bit, doing some flips in the pool, then heading home to catch up on whatever show I’m watching. If I’m lucky, I’ll get a delicious dinner with some friends followed by a few drinks, then go back home, put on a movie, and eat a cheese quesadilla with my boyfriend before heading to bed. Of course, I’m writing incredible songs in my head during all of this, so the work never actually stops. 

C: I like to say the world is my oyster, so every day looks pretty different. Some things I do on a regular basis, though, when I’m in Atlanta, are meditating by the river, lots of walks around the suburbs, and hiking. And then at some point in the week, I must go dancing. Either in the kitchen with my mom or out on the weekend with friends. I also really love cooking and cherish it when I get the time, because when we’re on the road, that’s pretty hard to do. I usually have to come back home and exclusively cook every meal for like 2 weeks straight to feel balanced again. Also, “Shoot the Hooch” season is coming up, so that’s getting added into the rotation. But in all honesty, a great normal day almost always consists of working on music in some way. 

C: Yes and no! 

CC: I love country and folk music, especially pre-1980s. Maybe people wouldn’t expect that, given the style of music we make. 

C: A healing energy in one way or another, or at least an energy that feels like arms wide open vibes. Sometimes social anxiety gets in the way of that, but the intention is always there. 

CC: Just like, the best energy of all time. I want people to be like, “Wow, who is she and where can I get one? I love her shoes and her purse. She’s so kind.” 

C: Sexy af 

CC: I want them to feel like themselves but better

EMMA ROSE: It was just as easy and straightforward as the song feels. Veri had the idea to make a song that’s fun—a “I’m finally feeling good again” kind of song. I was on board right away.

VERIFIZIERT: The weather was beautiful—it was one of those sunny days after so many gray ones, the kind that automatically makes you happy. It was our first time in the studio together; we were excited and wanted to write the perfect early summer anthem. And I think we succeeded! Girlhood, woo-hoo!

EM: I make cheesy German pop music. If I had to be more specific, “bedroom pop” and “indie pop” are probably terms that would describe it better. I just love making and listening to pop music that sounds lighthearted but isn’t at all, music that’s fun. I write very honestly and often with a focus on feminist topics, though it’s important to note that these are simply topics that concern me and are often very everyday—they just happen to be feminist. As hard-hitting and uncomfortable as some songs are, it’s also important to me to incorporate my sense of humor and lightheartedness into the lyrics and music. Sometimes I also just like to write about love and life. Everything is also very close to me as a person. It was super easy to combine our styles with Veri because she loves pop music just as much as I do. We didn’t really have to talk about whether the sound suited both of us. But what I love about Veri’s way of writing is that she often manages to create a vibe without talking about specific situations. That’s something I’d like to achieve even more in my own music. For me, “Stargirls” is one of the first songs where I’ve managed to do that. 

VERI: I’d just say “pop” because the music is so diverse, and I move through a lot of different genres. But at its core, it’s pop, new pop, or “icon pop,” as my producer likes to call it.

EM: I was pretty nervous beforehand because we’d never made music together before, and I’ve been a secret Veri fan since 2024. Luckily, though, the vibe was super relaxed and laid-back right from the start. We’d just been eating tacos in the sun and then headed over to the studio at a leisurely pace. The idea came to us right away, and we were just on the same page in that moment. We sat together on the couch and worked our magic.

VERI: Having my period, drinking iced coffee and various fun drinks (Coke and rhubarb spritzer), lounging around and letting the sun shine on my face. Always recording while wearing sunglasses, so it feels even more real.

ER: I’m always gathering ideas, no matter where I am. But my favorite way to “work” creatively is in the studio. You know exactly why you’re there, you can directly connect words with sound, and there aren’t many things to distract me. That’s what feels best to me right now. But I still really love it when I have the peace and quiet to sit at the piano at home and compose on my own. That’s how I started, and of course, that’s also the most romantic way to do it

VERI: At the start of the session, we think about what kind of instrumental vibe we’re in the mood for. I often contribute to choosing the chords myself. While the producer is shaping the beat, I start writing. I jot down lines and words that I like—all sorts of different things. From there, I see what moves me the most or speaks to me right now. And then we build around that! And that’s exactly how we did it together, too. It’s nice to play ping-pong with words and phrases; writing lyrics and melodies together is a lot of fun.

ER: I think there are two different kinds of perfect days for me. But on both of them, at least one of my best friends has to be there. My female friendships are the most beautiful, enriching, and important thing there is to me.

Version 1: You sleep in late, stay home all day, take care of yourself, binge-watch, eat something delicious, and your best friend stops by.

Version 2: The sun is shining, you go outside, meet up with your besties, day drinking, deep talks, trash talk, gossip, then head to your favorite bar in the evening and/or go dancing until the sun comes up again. 

VERI: Sleeping in, iced strawberry matcha, and some amazing sourdough bread for breakfast, sitting on the balcony with my bestie in our pyjamas while the sun is shining. Later, strolling through a flea market, sipping cocktails, gossiping, and playing table tennis. No plans, no drama, no stress. Just spending the whole day doing whatever we feel like on the spur of the moment. 

COLE KNIGHT: I started playing piano and guitar when I was really little. I think a lot of kids play piano when they are little, but I became obsessed with the guitar. I was always excited to come home from school and sit in my basement just playing by myself. My mom wanted me to join a band, but I told her I only wanted to play alone. Looking back, I feel like I should have just joined a band, as playing by myself wasn’t always fun. My dad is a computer science engineer; he worked for Intel for 21 years and now works for Nvidia, where he recently started. He influenced me to go into that field because he knew I would have a good career outcome. However, when I went to school, I realized I didn’t really love computer science. I was the only girl in most of my classes and, being a shy young woman from the Midwest, I didn’t connect with it that much. But I think it gave me a really good foundation for working with software like Ableton. They are quite similar, and I do love sitting at a computer and tinkering, perfecting the sound. With my background in playing instruments and coming from a small town, I slowly moved to bigger cities as I got older. I truly discovered music when I was in college and beyond. It was such a new phenomenon for me to discover something so vast; you can really connect with music, I think.

CK: I started getting interested when I was in college, around the age of 20. One of my friends from my computer classes was a DJ, so we would skip class and just go play music in his room. However, I didn’t really start taking it seriously until I lived in LA much later on, when I was about 25.

CK: I think I have done a pretty good job of focusing on my health and prioritizing sleep when I need to. Obviously, when you first start out, that isn’t the priority. It is all very fun, and you think about how crazy the lifestyle is. But eventually, you realize it takes a toll when you don’t take care of yourself, especially as a woman. I think it is important to be cognizant of hormones and the fact that we sometimes simply need a lot of sleep. Since I was a runner in college and ran track, that athletic discipline is ingrained in me. I feel the need to go to the gym regularly. It makes me feel good. Having that balance is really important, but being able to travel and experience so many places that I wouldn’t otherwise see is such a cool part of the job.

CK: I met David when I was moving to LA at a very young age. He invited me to one of his sound sessions, which are essentially extended sound baths. It blew my mind, and I became obsessed with the idea of the ‘sound of the abstract.’ There is a book called The Mysticism of Sound and Music, which is based on Sufi teachings. It discusses how the path to enlightenment is most quickly attained through the sound of the abstract, by listening to it constantly and letting your mind dissolve into it. Sound is energy and vibration. You can measure it in Hertz, and since everything is measurable, we are ultimately made of sound particles. Our bodies consist mostly of water, and when sound hits water, it ripples. We are constantly in this play of vibration, which I found fascinating. As I studied deeper with David, he taught me about the esoterics of its origins and the different cultures that have used it. This has shaped a very conscious, rather than religious, approach to thinking. He also teaches you about different instruments used to put us into a state of deep meditation. My gongs are actually right behind me.

CK: Yeah, so I play fifteen to twenty different instruments, all designed to guide you into a deep state of meditation. I haven’t recorded anything yet, as that is one of my projects for this year, but I perform everything live. People lie down with eye masks on and enter a state of near-nothingness. This allows them to reset their nervous system and experience a profound sense of peace.

CK: I teach a few private students, but I haven’t offered any public courses yet. My fiancé and I facilitate sessions together, and we host several events in our community every month. I also travel for work; retreats occasionally hire me to facilitate sound sessions for them. Additionally, I have many private clients I work with on a regular basis to perform nervous system reset work.

CK: I eventually decided that I needed to name my sound meditation project, and ‘Duality is Reality’ is what I came up with. Technically, yoga means ‘unity,’ which is the highest state one aims to achieve in life, signifying that you have ascended. However, I feel that duality is a more realistic step toward reaching that unity.

This concept also ties into my personal life, as my fiancé works in nightlife as well. It is about being able to work in that environment while remaining on a path toward finding peace.

CK: I think that meeting David before I took DJing seriously allowed me to explore sound, consciousness, and meditation first. Having that background has always kept me grounded; it has been essential for me.

CK: I have many little notes everywhere, in my journals or on my phone, which are my version of poetry. I have been doing this since I was in school, writing notes in class. All the lyrics in my music come from those small notes. They are just notes I have saved somewhere. Sometimes I think a certain line would be cool in a track, or while I am writing, a melody comes to mind that naturally goes along with it.

CK: I should actually look in the closet at my mother’s house, because I have a bag full of notes there that I haven’t looked at in a long time. I am also constantly writing things in the Notes app on my phone, and I have a box of journals filled with various scribbles.

CK: I think so. I feel it has happened within the last year or year and a half. It is interesting because I have been working in this industry for a while now, but it truly takes time to understand what you love most about such a vast field.

I also believe this is because music is so closely tied to the expression of self. An artist creates music based on where they are in their life. As I am constantly learning more about myself and evolving, my music is doing the same thing. I am now at a point where I really love creating music for DJing. When I go out, I want to rave, dance, and have a high energy experience, so I feel that is the direction my music has taken as well. It is a high energy, almost old school 90s sound. It is very experimental because I always want to be surprised and interested.

CK: I walk so much while I am DJing. I sometimes track my steps and realize I have covered five or six miles during a ninety minute or two hour set. I am moving constantly because I am so excited.

CK: Especially at a show where I feel truly connected with the crowd and the energy of the room, I sometimes black out. I do not remember anything I played because I entered such a deep flow state. It is a ‘Jesus take the wheel’ moment.

CK: I was not even thinking about launching my own brand yet, as I did not feel it was the right time to take that step. Factory Town is a venue in Miami that opens every night during Art Basel and Miami Music Week. It is a massive space with six different stages that holds fifteen to twenty thousand people. Each night, a different DJ takes over a stage to host a party. When they approached my team and asked if I wanted a stage at Art Basel, my answer was an immediate yes. I did not have much time to put the brand together, but I am the type of person who gives one hundred and twenty percent to every project. I created a brand manifesto to ensure a fully immersive experience. I had done a photo shoot a year prior where I was dressed as a high fashion knight, and I wanted to tie the brand back into that aesthetic. When I came across the name Knightclub, it felt perfect. We designed the logo and the stage, hanging chains everywhere. The logo itself is a giant sword with a KC in the handle, which we built and hung above the DJ booth to create the feeling of a medieval, sexy dungeon. I launched the party with a great lineup and followed it with another event at Miami Music Week. It was significantly larger than the first and a huge success. The support and feedback were incredible, especially regarding the stage design. That moment felt like I had truly stepped into the next level as an artist. It is a project that extends beyond myself. For me, what is even more important is creating a community and reminding people why we do this in the first place. It is about connecting with your body, feeling good while you are dancing, and feeling safe. It is about being part of something bigger than yourself, something more than just a night out.

CK: We had about a month and a half, which I felt was not much time at all.

CK: We had to create all the branding for the entire project. I even produced a track that I now play before each Knightclub show. It features my voice introducing the audience to the brand and welcoming everyone into this world. The first line asks, ‘Are you ready to touch the edges of your soul?’ I needed to be all in, you know?

CK: There is a woman in Miami named Evie who works in production. I reached out to her since we were already friends. When I shared my idea, she was ready to help bring it to life. We collaborated on the project, and I am very happy with the result. It was a perfect coincidence that she already had a warehouse full of chains available. And I was like ‘That’s perfect, that’s exactly what I wanted.’

CK: I think Dekmantel is one of those festivals that has always caught my attention. It is not about the fluff; it is truly about the music and an audience that deeply appreciates it. As an artist, you can experiment knowing it will be well received. Houghton Festival is another one that has my attention. I have not been yet, but I always watch the videos and look at the lineups. That festival is full of legends and icons, and everyone who attends speaks highly of the quality. Every set is pure class.

CK: This year, I want to focus on music and production. I feel that 2025 was centered on my brand and developing Knightclub. Beyond that, it was about establishing the Coco Knight identity as an artist, taking the time to sit with myself and learn more about who I am. Now, I feel inspired and ready to pour everything into my music. I am releasing an EP on Life and Death later this year, which will be my first mature body of work. It will feature three or four tracks rather than a single or a two track release, creating a more cohesive journey through the music.

CK: Thank you for having me!

Marcel Dettmann: Yeah, definitely. I grew up in the countryside, and my grandparents lived in the East, close to where the wall was. When I was around 12, it came down. Before that, it was still very present, you had memorial sites, remains of it, this whole atmosphere. It was a crazy time. And what’s strange is how I remember it now, it feels like it was just a few years ago. When I talk about the early or mid-’90s, I still feel like that was recent. But it’s 30 years ago. Back then I was 19 or 20, and it had a huge influence on me. In the bigger picture, it’s a long time. But when you’ve lived it, it doesn’t feel like much. And I think the next 30 years will go even faster, especially when you have a family. I’ve been married for 16 years now. It’s a long time but it’s great.

It was very different. It was harder but in a good way. There was no social media telling you what you should like. You had to search for things. I grew up recording radio shows on cassette tapes. There were certain programs where they would let the track play from the beginning and you knew, okay, now I can record it. Then you’d listen to those tapes again and again, share them with friends, make mixtapes. That was amazing. I loved bringing music to my friends and saying, “This is it, you have to hear this.” That feeling is actually one of the reasons I became a DJ. And when I listen to music from that time now, it’s like a family album. You carry it with you. Sometimes you open it and suddenly remember everything, people, moments, feelings. You hear a track and you feel like you’re 16 again. That never goes away.

It’s different. Today everything is instant. You get files, you listen to them on your phone, you store them, it’s all very easy. And of course, there are advantages. I get music early, I can play unreleased tracks months before they come out. But the value changes. Back then, you had to go from store to store to find something. Sometimes it was sold out, sometimes you got lucky. And when you finally had it, it felt special. Today everything is available immediately. That’s convenient, but it also flattens things out. You don’t build a relationship to music in the same way. Now it’s more like someone says, “Here, you’ll like this,” and you listen and say, “Yeah, okay, nice.” But when you have to search, when you really want something, it means more. I think that makes it harder today, especially for younger people, to understand what they really love. Because everything is available, everything is suggested to you. But the obvious stuff, the things everyone likes, can get boring. It’s important to find your own taste, your own style. That’s essential.

It’s still the same feeling in a way, but more complex. When you’re DJing, you’re dealing with a lot of different emotions at once. Some people are excited, some are tired, some are waiting for something specific, others just go with the flow. It’s like working with an instrument, like an organ. You have all these different layers, and you have to feel how to bring them together. And it’s never perfect. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. But that’s important. If everything is always smooth and nice, it becomes boring. You need dynamics, good nights, difficult nights. Also, not everything you do is for everyone. You can create something amazing, but some people won’t connect with it. That’s something you have to accept as an artist.

You can prepare in the studio, but once you’re there, everything changes. You might think, okay, I’ll play this and then this but then you arrive and you feel, no, that’s not going to work. So you need a direction, but also the flexibility to change immediately. For me, the most important thing is that I feel good with what I’m doing. If I’m happy, the crowd will feel that. It’s not about playing what you think people expect, that’s boring. At some point you stop thinking in categories. You just react. And the space matters a lot too. The architecture, the atmosphere, it all influences how things feel. Whether it’s a basement, a bunker, or an art space, it changes the energy.

Sometimes, but it’s also funny. People say that, and then I look at myself and I’m wearing something colorful. Berlin does have a certain mood, but for me it’s more about freedom. It’s one of the freest places in the world. It’s free, but not necessarily supportive. At the same time, it’s not easy. I know a lot of amazing artists who struggle, who have to take other jobs because there’s not enough support. That’s something that doesn’t make sense to me.

Fashion moves faster, music stays longer. But both rely on instinct. You don’t always know why something works. At some point you stop thinking in names or scenes. You just react to what feels right.

It wasn’t planned. These were sketches over time. At some point they made sense together. My Own Shadow is not separate from what I do. It’s just another angle of it. Same ideas, different focus. I don’t plan releases. I just work. There’s more coming soon. Another EP, and an album later this year.

Yeah, my son comes into the studio sometimes. He makes hip-hop tracks with his friends. I help them with beats on a drum machine. Last time they made a song about a lunchbox, it was really funny. And some of his friends say they want to be DJs. Their parents ask me what they should buy, but I always say: first find the music you love. It’s not like football. It starts with passion. Everything else comes after.

It’s my escape. Even my therapist says that. It gives me freedom, it gives me peace. It’s just me in the studio, doing what I love. And honestly, that’s enough.

Leon Thomas: Good. I love Berlin.

LT: I came out here for a promo when I was doing the Nickelodeon show Victorious for the first time. I was like 19. It was a really cool experience then, and then I’ve been back and forth for just shows. I did Colors as well. Yeah, it’s always been a good city for me.

LT: I think if I had a normal job, it would be real estate. I’m really into flipping homes and stuff like that.

LT: I haven’t. I just bought my first investment property. So I’m in the process of remodeling. I’m going to keep it, though. I’m not going to sell.

LT: Yeah. I think in my early 20s, I had the opportunity to continue working on the network, but I knew that I had to separate myself if I wanted to evolve. If I wanted to be taken serious as an artist, I had to spend time working behind the scenes as well, just to really get a good landscape of how to take things to the next level. That’s exactly what I did.

LT: Yeah, It’s always been a constant theme throughout my life.

LT: I was very inspired by the neo-soul movement, like Joe Scott, Musiq Soulchild, stuff like that, Erykah Badu, D’Angelo. I think growing up in New York, that was a big thing. The radio really inspired me too, so being with my parents in the car and discovering new music that way was always really nice. Shout out to Hot 97 and Power 105. They definitely raised me. 98.7 KISS FM. I remember all of the radio stations. It was a big part of my culture. It’s what shaped my musical taste as well.

LT: Yeah. I think I write some of the best songs for other people when I’m pretending to write for myself.

LT: Yeah, there’s definitely a couple songs that I wrote that were just for me, but I accidentally played them and then people wanted them for their project. I was like, oh, good.

LT: If it’s stuck in my head. I make a lot of music. I feel like if I can remember the melody, it means that it’s got a mass appeal. It’s the kind of thing that can be catchy. So if it’s stuck in my head after I write it and record it, I usually go back to it. If I can’t remember the hook, it’s probably not catchy enough.

LT: Beats are very important to me. So yeah, I like to kind of put together different tracks or source different tracks from producers I’m a really big fan of. And then I go sit down and I’ll just do days of writing so I can kind of come up with a bunch of stuff. Sometimes we’ll come up with the track and the song in the same day.

LT: I think the biggest thing that inspire me are conversations about love. If I have a conversation with a homie or even with a girl I’m dating, I’ll write little things down that sound different or that I personally haven’t heard in the song. And I’ll try to find a way to kind of add that in. I think another thing that really inspires me a lot are movies. I’ll play movies on mute while I’m making music. And if the music doesn’t feel cinematic like the film I’m watching, I usually don’t continue.

LT: When I have to turn it in.

LT: A friend of mine, he’s working on a project and I did the hook on the song and he sent me the newest mix and it said mix 70. He mixed that song 70 times.

LT: That’s a lot of times to mix one thing. But a lot of artists can be very meticulous and detail-orientated and they’ll kind of grind until you have to turn it in. For me, I do my best to kind of keep my first in mind because if I allow myself, I’ll overthink. So I kind of protect myself from myself and I work hard not to overthink.

LT: I think my phone and modern technology is a big part of how I create music. I don’t think I’ve ever written a song on a piece of paper. I think most of my songs are in my notes because since I became a songwriter, there was always ways to do it. My notes are just filled with ideas. Sometimes I do something called morning pages where before I scroll through the internet and chuckle for the first 30 minutes of my day, I’ll sit down and I’ll just write my thoughts. But it’s free writing.

LT: It’s Monday, I’m feeling a little hungover. And then I’ll just write the whole thing and then from there, it’s kind of cool sometimes to look back at it. I very rarely look back but I think writing with the perspective of freedom and there being no rules and knowing that nobody’s ever going to read it, I think it’s also a good way to get my brain kind of cooking for the day.

LT: I try not to let situations like that define my art or even success itself. But I think it’s a really great marker to show people that I worked hard at something and I can follow through. The teams that I built around me, the music that I’m making is actually impacting cultures not just in the States but now I’m all over the world. It’s a cool thing. It’s a good totem of the hard work that me and my team put in. I won’t let it redefine success for me but it definitely is a great showcase of all the work we put in.

LT: Thank you, I appreciate that.

LT: Yeah, I think they should have therapy at every label. It’s a very unnatural thing to be famous. I know a lot of friends in the industry that could use a little check-in.

LT: It’s just a healthy thing to have somebody to talk to. 

LT: Neutral that also understands how to deal with somebody who maybe isn’t just a regular everyday kind of person. Somebody that can really comb through your mind and understand your perspective.

LT: I think my mom, she’s a good grounding force in my life. Every time I talk to her, I get a whole lot of truth. She’ll tell me everything she’s thinking, whether it’s good or bad. And then I think an activity that grounds me is playing video games. I like just sitting down and kind of entering into a different world. But it kind of makes me a big kid again. Sometimes you get all serious. I’m a serious artist. You’re all cool. Expensive clothes, whatever else. But then I’m playing Call of Duty and I’m freaking out. Or I’m just playing the homies online or something. And it kind of brings back the inner child, which I think you can’t let that go away. I want to keep my inner child alive.

LT: I don’t really think much about what I want people to feel. I just hope that they can relate to me in some way. I like to connect. So even if you haven’t been through the exact same thing I’ve been through, I try to build my songs around emotions. I hate songs that are just in the middle. It’s not exciting. It’s not sad. I like to be on really potent sides of the emotional spectrum. Whether it’s really happy, really exciting, or really sad. Very laid back. So I hope that I can evoke an emotion in somebody. That’s why my ballads are never on the fence. They’re like tearjerkers. I want to get you there.

LT: Yeah, I hope they connect with me.

LT: Trust your gut and keep the blinders on. Don’t worry about what everybody else is doing. Just focus on you. Social media is so easy to start comparing yourself to other people.

LT: I think that’s the biggest thing for me. I wish I did more just focusing on me. Because everything would probably move a little faster.

LT: Okay, great. I hope you guys enjoy the show.

DUA SALEH: Yeah, I feel that sometimes when we focus our energy on a specific sound, the music eventually comes to you because you surround yourself with like-minded people. We were both in Minneapolis, even though we both make music that is outside of our typical genres, his being folk and mine being Indie Pop or R&B. I’m only just venturing into folk now with Bon Iver. Being in similar circles in the same city and connected through the music community in Minneapolis and Minnesota really helped. To my knowledge, he lives between Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Los Angeles. I remember listening to him a lot back in middle or high school; I was hyper-focused on his music and thought his live performances were outstanding. It feels like the universe brought him to me because I hadn’t actually met him before we started working together. I just received a random text from him.

DS: Yeah, I was geeked! I was like, ‘What the heck?’ It was crazy, but it made sense because my friend Simon, who executive produced three of my albums, exists within the same circle of music producers and creatives in Minnesota and Minneapolis. So, he gave him my number, and then I sent over my verse for a song we did.

DS: Yeah, it felt a bit intimidating at first because he’s a genius. Seriously, the first time we met, he was freestyling on probably five or six songs we did together. I was just sitting back, letting people produce and play the drums, while feeling completely overwhelmed. I was thinking, ‘Oh my gosh, this is an icon.’ Because I felt so intimidated, I didn’t write to the music right away. I waited, let my emotions settle, and allowed myself to be guided by his voice, really listening to what he was saying, applying it to my life, and asking myself: ‘How does this make me feel? What does this remind me of?’ He’s just very special. I’m so excited to be in the studio with him while he’s producing, singing, and just being a ‘nerd’ about it. I think that’s pretty cool. 

DS: Thinking back to high school, I was on the debate team and never went to parties because my family was religious. I spent my time in after-school programs and minded my own business, but my grades weren’t the best. I did really well on tests, so I was still able to earn college credits, but I was definitely a ‘slacker nerd’, I would often fall asleep during class.

DS: I feel neutral toward it, mainly because in a dystopian world, the physical Earth prospers regardless. Even if it’s a dystopia, once that is gone, only the Earth remains, plants, vegetation, and water. The globe can take care of itself once the ruins of humanity are gone. So, I don’t think it’s strictly good or bad. Obviously, as a human being, I have empathy and wouldn’t want that to happen; it wouldn’t be ideal for anyone. It’s not that I want a dystopian world to exist, but I’m imagining what it would be like after all the decay. People would be trying to make sense of themselves and stay true to their identity as humans, but it would be warped by this new world they don’t really remember. That is very similar to how Sudanese people feel, being ripped away from their indigenous culture. For instance, I know my indigenous tribes didn’t necessarily speak Arabic. There were alternative languages they could have spoken, but I don’t even know their names. They might have had a specific religious or spiritual way of life, but I don’t know anything about it, not even how they counted. We have access to history, but so much of it has been destroyed in warfare.

DS: I lived there for the first year of my life, but I moved away shortly after.

DS: No, I figured out pretty early that I was gay, so I’ve always been hesitant. Actually, I ‘jumped the gun’ in a way. I didn’t know what transness was yet, but I remember watching Will & Grace. There was a gay character, and I realized, ‘Oh, you can be gay.’ For some reason, I immediately jumped to the conclusion: ‘I’m a boy.’ I don’t know why that happened, but I identified as a boy for two years straight, starting when I was eight. But then we had some family issues, and my focus shifted. I was more concerned with withdrawing into myself and figuring out where we were going as a family. I didn’t truly focus on my identity again until we gained stability in high school.

DS: Yeah, especially because they only recently abolished the death penalty for gay people in 2020. And honestly, I’m too smart to go back there because I know how impulsive I can be. I don’t like wearing a hijab, it makes me feel dysphoric and it’s not good for my heart. If I were there, I wouldn’t want to be forced into it. They treat you almost like an alien, it’s as if they don’t see your whole life there. To them, you’re just a foreigner. Especially since I live in more progressive places now, such as Minneapolis and Los Angeles.

DS: The album Of Earth and Wires is actually an extension of the story from my first album, I Should Call Them. The first record follows two lovers in an apocalyptic time who survive the ruins after society collapses. Together in this new world, they try to make sense of their surroundings. Even though it’s disorienting and they feel like they are losing their identities, they still know they love each other.

DS: I feel I should maintain this narrative about climate change and, as you mentioned, the theme of decomposition. I see it as a decomposition of identity. They are trying to make sense of themselves and stay true to who they are, but after a while, you begin to forget the old ways. It’s an allegory for the Earth; right now, it feels as though we are constantly living in apocalyptic times. Global climate change is real, the world is deteriorating, and the politics are heinous, it’s just terrible.

DS: I actually live in Los Angeles, but my family is still in Minnesota. I’m very concerned because English isn’t my mother’s first language. We are Sudanese, but we are often perceived as Somali, and there’s a lot of hostility toward that community right now, partly due to the political climate and because ICE is targeting Somali people in Minneapolis. My mom is an educator who works with autistic children in kindergarten. Recently, ICE agents arrived at her school. The school didn’t let them in, so they couldn’t take anyone, but they remained posted outside, waiting. My mom told me they weren’t arresting people at that moment, even though immigrants, both staff and parents, were clearly coming and going. It’s the heart of the community. I worry constantly about my siblings and I call them regularly just to make sure they’re safe. At one point, my mom even warned me to be careful because organizers were saying that phones were being tapped, so she started speaking to me in Arabic. It’s a deep concern for me personally as well, especially as someone who received their citizenship later in life, at 17. It makes me nervous. 

DS: Yeah, it’s like the detention camps where people are forced into labor. There are even allegations of sex trafficking involving children, women, and men. It’s absolutely terrifying. I think people understand what’s happening, and Minneapolis is obviously a target because the community is so well-organized when it comes to protesting. They’ve held protests at the Mall of America and shut down highways, even in -40 degree weather. They really have their act together, which makes them a threat to the American elite or the right wing, mostly because other people are inspired by it. It reminds people that we should actually be there for our neighbors and work together. American citizens are literally willing to die to protect their neighbors from being kidnapped by ICE. It’s horrendous, heartbreaking, and terrifying, but it just goes to show how much people love each other and how they’ve been there for one another since 2020.

DS: My brother was telling me how neighborhoods are becoming self-organized. Each area has its own specific system. They are using private chats to coordinate and prepare for protests. He told me it’s been incredible, people warn each other whenever ICE is on one block or another. Everyone is watching out for their neighbors, making sure food gets to pregnant women and those in need. It sounds exactly like what you said: it feels like we’re living in a war. It has even become a form of political voyeurism for some. I noticed that Minneapolis was nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize, which is wonderful, especially considering how much Trump wanted one. It’s a bit of a ‘slap in the face’ to him, but it also makes me feel uneasy inside. A Peace Prize is being discussed while people are still terrified in their homes, wondering if their five-year-olds or their grandmothers will be taken away to a detention center. In the end, you want more than a nomination. You don’t want to be part of this hypothetical ‘cold war’ or a political spectacle. You just want to exist.

DS: That’s what it feels like for real.

DS: It ties back to the concepts we discussed. Home is the Earth, the entire planet. We’re just happy to exist. But of course, the album is deeply inspired by my real life, especially Sudan. There are elements from Minnesota, for instance, Justin Vernon worked on several tracks and produced much of the record. To capture the Sudanese elements, I brought in an oud player. I also collaborated with Gaidaa, an incredible Dutch-Sudanese R&B artist, she’s a wonderful singer, and I’m so glad to have her on the album. Since I’m based in Los Angeles now, I also worked with Adeline. She’s in LA but originally from Florida; she wrote a book called Florida Water that I’m actually reading right now. I’m a huge fan of her work. Like Justin, she’s Grammy-nominated, though Justin actually has a few Grammys, but that’s an aside. I’ve tried to merge all the elements of my different homes. While filming Sex Education, I lived in Cardiff, Wales, for two years. My life wasn’t just bi-coastal; it was bi-continental, split between the UK and the US. That really shaped my songwriting. I’m processing the different places I’ve lived and seeing how climate change affects each of them. In LA, we had a massive firestorm, and the song ‘Firestorm’ is literally about the aftermath. I wanted to present it in a slightly cheeky way, it’s not a subject to take lightly, but I still want people to be able to ‘vibe,’ enjoy the music, and maybe even clean their house to it. Similarly, the song ‘Flood’ was inspired by me witnessing flash flooding in Cardiff, Wales. It happened so consistently that I was shocked by it. While I wasn’t personally affected in my accommodations for the show, I would see the roads. It’s actually terrifying. It is happening in Los Angeles right now as well, which is spooky because the song just came out, it feels almost too relevant. Beyond that, there’s Minneapolis, where they had the major protests against the oil pipeline they were putting through the Midwest. Talking about the different places I call home, Sudan, for instance. As a war tactic, crops and homes are often burned down, which is devastating for the environment writ large and tragic for the displaced people living there. I’ve been thinking about all these places and how they are all connected to the Earth. It is all sacred, and we should care for it deeply. At the same time, the album doesn’t take itself too seriously, it’s lighthearted in moments. It follows the journey of two lovers navigating their emotions while living in a post-apocalyptic world. They’re just young lovers trying to make sense of their destiny as soulmates or ‘twin flames.’ It’s a love album for the Earth, but also for these two characters in the series I’m writing.

DS: I can see that. I might actually use that as inspiration for future reference! 

DS: Don’t worry, I’m definitely going to reference you. Ms. Nowak definitely helped me with that. But my initial thought was actually about AI. Around the time of the Sudanese war in 2019-2020, I was thinking about climate change just as AI was going viral, specifically when it was being marketed as a ‘rapper.’ While AI systems have existed for a long time, the scale we see now is depleting vital resources like water, and I was trying to make sense of that impact. I began imagining a world where humanity is gone and only wires are left hanging from the buildings. If AI takes over but eventually can’t sustain itself, it would simply collapse into ruins. That’s where the title Of Earth and Wires comes from. It represents the parts of the Earth that stay alive, the natural biospheres that survive the conflict, contrasted with the wreckage left behind by a collapsed artificial intelligence. Without humans to direct it, AI would eventually decay because that’s the natural order of the world. Even in a world of ruins and falling asteroids, the humans left behind are still just trying to make sense of who they are. 

We’re turning to tools like ChatGPT to find our answers, and it is literally decimating the artistic world. I don’t know how it’s affecting journalism, but in music, it’s horrifying. I imagine you might feel the same way.

DS: That’s so real. So much of the world is grappling with that right now. It’s not that technology is always bad. For example, autonomous vehicles like Waymo can offer real safety, especially for trans women. But it’s still detrimental to the planet. While we enjoy these conveniences, people still lack access to clean drinking water. We’re digging deeper into our reserves without considering the long-term impact. I think this is just what people do. We are predictable. If you make things easy, people follow their evolutionary drive to choose the path of least resistance. We think we’re making the ‘smart’ choice, but we’re only thinking about the next three seconds, not the fact that it all might disappear shortly after.

DS: I feel exactly the same way, even on a lighter note. For example, I find myself listening to those ‘Baby Boo’ remixes on TikTok. I think the song goes, ‘She gonna call me baby boo,’ and there are ten or more AI-generated remixes that I end up liking just because they’re too funny to ignore. I try not to engage with AI, even when I’m using search engines, but it’s difficult because it’s so deeply embedded now that I sometimes forget it’s even there. It doesn’t feel fair, it’s being forced on everyone to the point where we can’t help but use it. It’s crazy.

DS: I think usually I don’t talk about my family life, but for this album, I really ventured out. For example, on the song ‘Enemie‘, I say something that doesn’t necessarily put me in the best light. It’s about meeting my father and finding out he’s an ‚a-hole.’ Beyond that, I talk about grief. My grandmother passed away last year, and it affected me intensely. ‘Flood‘ addresses that grief in a way I rarely even discuss with my friends. While my last project let people into my personal relationships, this time I’ve expanded and grown. I’ve allowed people to see even deeper into my personal world.

DS: Definitely, but most of the time I don’t release those songs because they’re just too personal. People are often shocked when I choose not to include certain tracks on an album, but it would be hard for me to navigate that as a human being. We aren’t just empty vessels, we have real emotions. 

DS: Thank you. I really appreciate that. It’s been wonderful talking to you.

LAUREL HALO: Maybe both those things. I love this Lao Tzu quote from the tao te ching, ‘cut doors and windows to make a room. Where the room isn’t, there’s room for you. So the profit in what is, is in the use of what isn’t.” It feels like with composing it’s more about this kind of approach with music making, rather than the kind of worldbuilding that comes with recording artist albums.

LH: The first time I was shown the material it was suggested to not interpret too much from a human lens, to not anthropomorphize the material too much.

LH: I think I was just responding to the visual. It made a lot of sense to have this kind of music be the sonic support. It’s interesting to think about the pressure of being that far underwater, and how effortlessly the sea life swims and dances through it.

LH: I didn’t want the music to sound overly epic, sentimental or foreboding. It’s hard to make this kind of music with a more naturalistic approach. I guess I’m musically anthropormorphizing whether I want to or not, as I am approximating with the score the feeling of what it might be like to experience that remote region of the Pacific in total darkness.

LH: Maybe the music was relating more to the smallness of the Fresnel lens, removed from its natural setting as a lighthouse ‘eye’ to become this momentary intruder or observer. Also there was a certain lyricism or tenderness to the shots of bioluminescent creatures later on in the film I was probably responding to.

LH: I guess it’s something I’ve always been drawn to, the somewhat alien effect or element of surprise.

LH: I guess that might be more a question for the filmmaker than me. It sounded like it was quite a challenging project to film given the dangerous context. The Clarion-Clipperton Zone is itself highly vulnerable given that it’s so rich in rare earth minerals.

LH: Maybe, it’s hard to say. I think there’s some sympathy that lies with the region.

LH: Yes, I think that was part of the intention. I had experimented with a more thematic approach initially, but as viewers will likely drift in and out of the film, it wasn’t necessarily the best approach.

LH: I experience a fair amount of basic silence in my day to day life – when I’m not making music I like to give my ears a break. Sometimes it’s a bit boring to not listen to music as it’s more motivating when doing tasks, but it’s nice to allow some headspace. I guess I never experience real silence though. Where I live and work in LA is a backhouse on a hill that is surrounded by other people’s homes. My studio faces a persistent onslaught of home improvement, construction, leafblowers, dogs and helicopters. Plus my windchime goes off a lot of the time, and I hear the police sirens and garbage trucks in my neighborhood a lot. There’s a lot of mysterious booms at night, and I also hear owls and coyotes. There was a citywide celebratory drone when the Dodgers won the World Series a second year in a row. It feels unnatural when there’s too much silence. I’m already sitting alone with my thoughts enough of the time!