Interview with Riley Finch

What’s the story behind your latest song/album?
Honestly, it wasn’t planned as an album. It started as a few songs I couldn’t really get away from, and they all came from the same place. It’s that point where something’s already over, but there was never a real ending. No conversation, no explanation, just distance. And you’re left going back through everything trying to figure out where it actually changed. I didn’t try to dress it up or make it more than it was. I wrote it the way it felt while I was still sitting in it. Confusing, unfinished, and harder to let go of than it probably should’ve been. Over time the songs started to connect, even though they came from different moments. Same pattern, just seen from different angles. That’s what turned it into Only When You Come. It’s not really one story. It’s more that space you end up in when something ends without ever really ending.

How has your creative process evolved over the years?
It’s gotten a lot simpler, honestly. I used to overthink everything — second guess lines, rewrite things until they stopped feeling like anything. It felt like I was trying to get it “right” instead of just letting it be what it was. Now I don’t do that as much. If something comes out a certain way, I usually leave it alone. Most of the time the first version is closer to the truth than anything I’d come up with after sitting on it too long. I also stopped trying to explain everything. Not every line needs to be clear or tied up. Some things don’t make sense when you’re in them, so I don’t try to force it to. It’s less about control now, and more about not getting in the way of it.

Is there a specific moment in your career that felt like a turning point?
I don’t know if there was a single moment where everything changed. It was more gradual than that. I think the closest thing to a turning point was when I stopped trying to make songs that felt “acceptable” and just wrote what I actually meant. There’s a difference between writing something that sounds right and writing something that feels right, and I spent a lot of time stuck in the first one. Once I let go of that a little, the songs started to feel more like me. Not necessarily better, just more honest. It didn’t really come with a big reaction or anything. It was quieter than that. Just noticing that I wasn’t holding back in the same way anymore.

What’s one misconception people have about being a musician?
I think people assume it feels bigger than it actually does. Like there’s a clear moment where it all clicks or suddenly means something different. Most of the time it doesn’t feel like that. You’re still sitting in the same room, working through the same things, just trying to get something out that feels right. There’s also this idea that once you put something out, you get some kind of closure from it. That part’s not really true either. If anything, it just makes things more permanent. You don’t really move on from what you write about. You just get better at carrying it.

Who or what has been inspiring your music lately?
It’s been a mix of things, but a lot of it comes back to a breakup that kind of sat with me longer than I expected. Not just the ending itself, but everything around it — the parts leading up to it, the moments in between, and the things that didn’t make sense until after it was already over. I think that’s what’s been driving it lately. The bigger situation is there, but it’s usually the smaller details that come back up when I’m writing. Things that didn’t seem important at the time but end up meaning more when you look at them differently. I’ve always been drawn to artists who don’t try to smooth things out or make them easier to listen to. Alanis was a big one for me early on. There was something about how direct she was — like she wasn’t trying to protect anyone from what she was saying, including herself. That stuck with me. I don’t really sit down thinking about inspiration in a technical way. It’s more when something doesn’t sit right and doesn’t go away. That’s usually what turns into a song.

Can you share a memorable or unexpected moment from a live performance?
I wouldn’t say I have a lot of traditional live performance moments. I’ve never really been that comfortable in those settings. It’s something I’m still trying to figure out. There was one time I went to a friend’s show and somehow ended up getting put on the spot. They pulled me up to do one of my songs with almost no warning. I remember standing there for a second thinking, this is a terrible idea, but also not really having time to overthink it. It was that mix of being completely terrified and kind of excited at the same time. I got up there after being coaxed into it, and then… it’s pretty much a blur. I remember walking to the stage, and then I remember it being over. Everything in between is just gone. From what I was told, it went well. I’m choosing to believe that. And no, I wasn’t drunk. I think I’d had maybe two beers, so I can’t even use that as an excuse. I think I just didn’t have time to feel the usual anxiety, so I just did it and my brain decided to check out for the rest.

How do you handle creative blocks or self-doubt?
I don’t really handle it in a clean way. It’s usually a mix of avoiding it for a while and then coming back to it when it doesn’t go away. I’ve learned not to force it as much. If I try to sit there and push something out when it’s not there, it usually just makes it worse. It starts to feel fake pretty quickly. The self-doubt part doesn’t really go away either. I think you just get used to it being there. There’s always that voice that tells you something isn’t good enough or that you’re repeating yourself. Most of the time I just try to get something down anyway, even if I’m not sure about it. Sometimes it ends up being nothing, and sometimes there’s one line in there that actually feels right. That’s usually enough to keep going.

If you could collaborate with any artist, living or dead, who would it be and why?
I don’t think I’d want a long list. It would probably be Alanis. I’ve listened to her for a long time, and there’s something about how direct she is that’s always stuck with me. It never feels filtered or cleaned up for the sake of sounding better. It just is what it is. I think part of me would definitely be a little thrown off at first, just because of how much I respect what she’s done. But at the same time, that’s probably what would make it interesting. I don’t think it would be comfortable, and I wouldn’t want it to be. I think the best things come out of that space where you’re a little unsure and not trying to control everything.

What’s a piece of advice you wish you had received earlier in your career?
Probably that not everything needs to be understood right away. I used to feel like I had to figure everything out while I was in it — what it meant, why it happened, how it was going to turn into something. Most of the time that just made it harder to actually write anything honest. I think I would’ve told myself to leave it alone a little more. Let things sit the way they are instead of trying to force clarity too early. Some of the things that end up meaning the most don’t really make sense until later, and that’s fine. You don’t have to resolve it for it to be real.

What’s next for you—any exciting projects or goals on the horizon?
I’m trying not to get too far ahead of things. Right now it’s mostly about staying in the same headspace that led to this record and seeing where it goes next. There are a few songs already started that feel a little different, but I don’t really want to force them into anything yet. I’d rather let them sit and see what they turn into. I guess there is something I’ve been circling, though. It’s not a full album. Just a smaller group of songs that feel more like a continuation of the same conversation. A lot of it comes from things that happened after Only When You Come was already out… things that didn’t really have a place on that record, but didn’t go away either. So it’s kind of me trying to make sense of all of that after the fact. I’ve been thinking of it as Confrontations, but I don’t know exactly what it is yet. It’s a little more stripped back in some ways, but also a little more exposed. I think the difference now is I’m not just writing it anymore… I’m also dealing with what happens after you say those things out loud. Nothing really set beyond that. Just trying not to rush whatever comes next.

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Radical Man – Power Systems

Architecture of Friction

There’s something quietly thrilling about the way Radical Man builds a track. Power Systems doesn’t rush to impress you with flashy drops or easy payoffs. Instead, it locks you into a pulse—steady, mechanical, almost architectural—and then begins to tamper with your sense of balance subtly.

From the first moments, the rhythm feels like steel beams being bolted into place. It’s rigid, deliberate, unyielding. But as the track unfolds, those beams start to shift. Patterns fracture, reassemble, and warp just enough to keep you leaning forward. Radical Man treats repetition like a living thing—each loop slightly altered, each return carrying a new tension. It’s less about climax and more about controlled erosion.

The beauty of Power Systems lies in its restraint. There’s no obvious emotional cue telling you how to feel. Instead, the track creates a space where order and chaos wrestle in real time. Off-kilter melodic fragments slip in like unexpected sparks, disrupting the grid without ever tearing it apart. It’s unsettling in the best way—intellectual yet visceral.This is experimental electronic music that trusts the listener. It asks you to sit inside its framework and notice the pressure building, the tiny mutations that transform structure into something almost organic. With Power Systems, Radical Man proves that rhythm alone can tell a story—one built not on spectacle, but on the slow, deliberate bending of form.

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Interview with Pearl Project

What’s the story behind your latest song/album?
First of all thank you for having me.

Why Poetry in Motion? Because poetry is intentional, expressive, and impactful… Just like the women I support.

For too long, the world has tried to dictate the pace at which women should move. I try are to change that narrative with my song. I advocate for a world where equality is the heartbeat of society, supporting women as they break barriers and redefine leadership. Whether in the boardroom, the home, or the arts, Pearl Project celebrates the seamless strength of women who prove, day after day, that they are second to none.

How has your creative process evolved over the years?
Yes it has! I have stories to tell!!!
In the end we. are all evolving. My creative process is evolving is to speak into a journey from a flickering candle to a steady, roaring flame. It is never a straight line; it is a series of loops, breakthroughs, and the occasional (but necessary) stumble into the dark.

In my early days it was like look what I can do this focus has shifted to “How can this serve others?” When you create to support a cause…Like i attempt with my song “Poetr y in Motion”to empower women… The work takes on a weight and a beauty that talent alone can’t achieve.

Is there a specific moment in your career that felt like a turning point?
Yes. Stepping away from the whole dance scene. I was once a house producer and I wasn’t happy anymore. First of all the space is to crowded. I felt hollow. Due to a series of events I stopped like for six months reflecting how do I go further. I have been sick for a long time and have still to cope with it. So for self preservation I chose another path. It feels good and makes me very happy. Music is like love it is contageous.

What’s one misconception people have about being a musician?
They think you earn loads of money, When someone becomes famous. They don’t see the struggles, the failures. Peaopel in general think success comes at an instant. That is the real misconception.

Who or what has been inspiring your music lately?
Life in general. There are so many sonic stories to tell. I am always writing or think that would be a fantastic lyric. Even in the greatest tragedy there is something beautiful to find and that is where I focus on… On the beauty of life. No need for negativity we are bombarded with it. So i go for good feeling mus ic with deep story telling.

Can you share a memorable or unexpected moment from a live performance?
No I can not due to my illness I don’t perform.
What I can share is when I stepped away from the dance scene. Someone contacted me and had heard a non dance/house song. The person said he was impressed. He also happens to be a producer and asked me to collaborate. We released together the song “Path of Life” I wrote the lyrics and we produced together the music. Now we are working together on an EP.

How do you handle creative blocks or self-doubt?
I go walking in nature. The inspiration unfolds when you become one with nature. I am quite confident. Of course you never know how the audience will react on a new song, EP or album. That I can not control. So I create music what I love. When you do that time will tell what happens.

If you could collaborate with any artist, living or dead, who would it be and why?
Prince, because he was not confined to one gnre. My music also isn’t confined to one genre. It is called freedom

What’s a piece of advice you wish you had received earlier in your career?
Music has to be a labour of love. Love what you do. Do what you love. Be yourself! That is the best advice that I have ever eceived. So I am practicing and living that now.

What’s next for you—any exciting projects or goals on the horizon?
Many exciting things are to come. I am working on new music and my first ever album. Furthermore I am also working on an EP with Daymentia.
With them I released “Path of Life” last January 2026.

Thank you for having me. It was a pleasure. Have an amazing day full of love, joy and music!!!

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Interview with Lana Crow

What’s the story behind your latest song/album?
‘I Do’ has definitely had a long journey—it’s probably the song that’s grown with me the most. It all started years ago with a vivid dream where I heard this chorus melody with two lines: ‘I will. I do.’ At the time, they made no sense to me, but because the song woke me up, I felt like there was a reason behind it I couldn’t ignore. So, at around 5 a.m., I grabbed my phone and recorded the rough idea before it disappeared.
At first, I turned it into a song called ‘I Will’ about a love that grows out of a friendship—something I’d never experienced myself, but I’ve always been fascinated by those beautiful stories of people who’ve known each other since their teens and then build a life together. I was super new to songwriting and production, so that first version took over two years to finish. It finally came out in 2024 as my very first release… but honestly? I wasn’t fully happy with it, and I guess I always had this intention of re-writing it.
Then, 2 years later, something clicked. I remembered my wedding—some time before my hubby and I exchanged vows, the priest explained we could choose between saying ‘I will’ or ‘I do,’ depending on how we saw that commitment. He actually recommended ‘I will,’ so that’s what my husband and I both said. Years later, those two phrases from the dream suddenly made perfect sense: ‘I will’ as the promise, the intention… and ‘I do’ as the living, everyday yes.
So I went back to that original melody, expanded it, completely rewrote the lyrics, and turned it into ‘I Do.’ Now it’s really a love letter to my husband—the most patient, incredible man. Like when insomnia hits me hard and I’m losing my mind in the middle of the night, he’s just there, calm, helping me through it without ever making me feel like a burden. I’m endlessly grateful for him.
In a way, this song shows how much I’ve grown as a songwriter and singer over those couple of years—from that uncertain first attempt to something that feels truly honest and lived-in. It’s about choosing each other every single day through the messy moments as much as the happy ones.

How has your creative process evolved over the years?
Over the years, I’ve started spending more time with each song. My first album was very sporadic and kind of careless—I’d just go with whatever came to me in the moment and move on quickly. But I’ve realized that when I sleep on some melodies and lyrics, I can make them better.
I’m not a patient person, though, so I still go through phases where I rush things.

Is there a specific moment in your career that felt like a turning point?
The real turning point came when I found services that handle media coverage. I’m terrible at social media, so having someone write about my music and then share it felt like a massive leap forward. Suddenly, my work had that credibility boost it needed.
I’m also very happy with my current producer, George Harris, who I found last year, and my mixing engineer whose name I don’t even know—he goes by the pseudonym CeePee.

What’s one misconception people have about being a musician?
I’m not sure about others, but my own personal misconception was that you can actually make money just from releasing music. Nope—not unless you’re very famous.

Who or what has been inspiring your music lately?
My main inspiration has always been to create music that helps people feel happier. We all know that happiness is a state of mind, but not everyone knows how to get there. From my own experience, I’ve found that a positive state of mind becomes easier to achieve when you take responsibility for what happens to you. Playing the victim never helps. When you blame others for your troubles, it just builds a grudge that consumes you. People can be hurtful, but if you start to see their actions as a reflection of your own state of mind, the problem becomes easier to overcome, and you feel more in control. I try to put that message into my music, and hearing that it’s made a difference for people is what means the most to me.

Can you share a memorable or unexpected moment from a live performance?
I’m afraid I don’t do live performances. You have to have a ton of stamina to pull that off, and I just don’t have it. I was practically raised on antibiotics—every sneeze was a prescription party. As a result, honestly, I’m not the healthiest person.

How do you handle creative blocks or self-doubt?
I haven’t really experienced creative blocks. Whenever I set the intention to write a song, it usually just comes to me. Self-doubt used to be a big challenge, but I’m slowly getting over it through a natural process of self-acceptance. The longer you do something, the more confident you become.

If you could collaborate with any artist, living or dead, who would it be and why?
I’d collaborate with Axl Rose from Guns N’ Roses. When I was younger, I had a huge crush on him! 😀

What’s a piece of advice you wish you had received earlier in your career?
I wish someone had told me to find a producer online earlier. I had no idea that was an option, so before my first song was released, I spent almost two years going back and forth with a local producer, which really stretched out the process.

What’s next for you—any exciting projects or goals on the horizon?
I don’t have anything specific planned at the moment. Life’s been pretty busy with other things, so I’m just taking it one step at a time for now.

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Interview with Giuseppe Cucè

What’s the story behind your latest song/album?

El mundo es verdadero was born from the need to strip reality of its masks. It’s a song about desire and truth — the kind that isn’t comfortable, but necessary. The track moves through raw emotion and Latin-tinged rhythms to tell a story of exposure: when illusions fall, the world doesn’t become easier, it simply becomes real.

How has your creative process evolved over the years?

Over the years, my creative process has become more essential and more honest. I’ve moved away from trying to explain everything and focused instead on listening — to silence, to instinct, to what remains after the noise fades. Today I write and arrange music as a form of excavation: removing layers until only what’s necessary and true is left.

Is there a specific moment in your career that felt like a turning point?

Yes — the turning point wasn’t a single event, but a decision. The moment I stopped measuring my work by external recognition and started trusting my own sense of truth. From there, every choice became clearer: the music, the collaborations, the silence between notes.

What’s one misconception people have about being a musician?

One common misconception is that being a musician is only about inspiration or visibility. In reality, it’s mostly about discipline, doubt, and long periods of invisible work. The art people hear is just the surface — the real journey happens far from the spotlight.

Who or what has been inspiring your music lately?

Lately, I’ve been inspired more by states of being than by specific artists — silence, distance, desire, and the fragile moments when truth reveals itself. I’m drawn to what happens in between things: after the noise, after the celebration, when masks fall and something real remains.

Can you share a memorable or unexpected moment from a live performance?

During a live show, someone once stayed completely still through the entire set — no phone, no applause, just listening. At the end, they came up to me in silence, hugged me, and left without saying a word. It reminded me that sometimes the deepest connection doesn’t need explanation.

How do you handle creative blocks or self-doubt?

I don’t fight creative blocks anymore — I listen to them. Self-doubt often signals that something needs time or honesty. Stepping away, allowing silence, and trusting the process has become part of the work itself.

If you could collaborate with any artist, living or dead, who would it be and why?

I would choose Leonard Cohen — not to add something to his work, but to remove everything unnecessary. His way of turning vulnerability into form, and silence into meaning, deeply resonates with how I approach songwriting today.

What’s a piece of advice you wish you had received earlier in your career?

I wish someone had told me that consistency matters more than intensity. That building a body of work takes time, patience, and the courage to stay when enthusiasm fades. Talent opens the door — staying is a choice.

What’s next for you—any exciting projects or goals on the horizon?

Right now, I’m focused on letting 21 Grammi continue its journey — through live performances, international listening spaces, and deeper connections with audiences. At the same time, I’m already writing again, without urgency, allowing the next chapter to take shape naturally rather than forcing it.

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Layla Kaylif – I’m Afraid of Americans

East Meets Edge: Layla Kaylif’s Bold Reimagination

Layla Kaylif’s reinterpretation of I’m Afraid of Americans is a striking exercise in cultural translation, transforming the iconic David Bowie and Brian Eno track into something both unsettling and hypnotically current. From the very first notes, Kaylif’s infusion of Middle Eastern musical textures creates a sonic landscape that feels simultaneously intimate and expansive. Oud-like string motifs intertwine with subtle percussive layers, giving the song a rhythmic pulse that is both meditative and urgent.

Kaylif’s vocal delivery is confident and nuanced, carrying a weight that honors the original while asserting its own identity. There’s a quiet tension in her phrasing, a push-and-pull that keeps listeners on edge without ever feeling forced. Producer Johan Bejerholm’s arrangement amplifies this effect, balancing traditional Western instrumentation with Middle Eastern inflections, resulting in a soundscape that is culturally rich and sonically adventurous.

What makes this version especially compelling is its timeliness: releasing on the tenth anniversary of Bowie’s passing, Kaylif manages to evoke a sense of reflection and contemporary commentary simultaneously. The track isn’t just a cover—it’s a recontextualization, offering listeners a fresh lens through which to experience a familiar piece of music.

I’m Afraid of Americans stands out as a bold, immersive journey. It’s the kind of track that invites repeated listening, revealing new layers with every spin. Layla Kaylif demonstrates not only technical skill but a fearless artistic vision, proving she can take a classic and make it resonate in a completely new way.

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