소리 Soli
burial
“The music was sent through PS5”: that’s Harmony Korine, director of Baby Invasion, describing his collaboration with Burial. Honestly, that has to be the most Burial sentence imaginable. He is invisible, obsessive, and somehow stranger than fiction.
I think the first time I heard Burial was in Grand Theft Auto V. It was the song “Hiders,” and something about it stopped me. I didn’t know music like this existed — dark, grainy, emotional, like it had been found in a broken hard drive under someone’s bed. I looked it up and landed on the Rival Dealer EP: “Come Down to Us,” “Hiders,” and “Rival Dealer.” That was my entry point. It didn’t feel like a record — it felt like a world. The textures, the ghost voices, the foggy drums. It was harrowing, but comforting. Like it knew something about me I didn’t know how to say.
A few years ago, I fell into a real Burial fixation. I started listening to everything — Untrue and the self-titled Burial. But when I got to Tunes 2011–2019, something changed. That compilation… it’s probably one of my favorite things I’ve ever heard. Not an album, not a playlist — more like a 2.5-hour transmission from another place. A collection of songs I’ll be dreaming about forever. Songs I want to hear in clubs, in restaurants, in films, at 3am, in the rain. I don’t even DJ, but I think about what it would feel like to drop a Burial track in a set. It’s that powerful — it makes you want to become someone else just to share it.
And yet, the man behind it all — William Bevan — barely exists in public. No live shows. Barely any photos. No interviews since 2012. When I found out he once sent an entire film soundtrack through PS5 chat, I knew: this is exactly the kind of artist I’m drawn to. Invisible, obsessive, mythic. His music isn’t just something I hear — it stares back at me. Like the abyss. Like a dream I didn’t know I had until it ended. Anonymity in the age of oversharing feels radical. His rare interviews read like diary entries from another dimension. In the 2012 Wire transcript — one of the only unedited interviews he’s ever given — you can hear him struggling to explain what his music even is. He doesn’t make tracks for the club, he says. He makes them for people walking home alone. For headphones. For when you’re feeling a bit lost. That tells you everything.
What stands out in that 2012 interview is not just his vulnerability, but how un-media-trained he is. He stammers, he drifts, he apologizes. There’s no branding in sight. He talks about ghostly female vocals like they’re remnants of someone he loved and lost. He says he makes tracks hoping “someone who’s having a sh*t time might find something in it.” That might be the most honest artist statement of the 2010s. It frames Tunes 2011–2019 not as an album but as a shelter — a psychic underground for soft boys, quiet girls, anxious minds, anyone who ever cried on public transit. And the way it’s sequenced — you can feel the care in how each track bleeds into the next — turns it into something more than a decade’s worth of singles. The order becomes a kind of drift, a long walk through different weather systems, sometimes clear, sometimes choking with fog. This is what makes Burial’s legacy weirdly spiritual. He’s not an icon. He’s a presence. His music is religious not because it worships anything, but because it creates space — space to feel, to unravel, to grieve gently, to remember people we’ve never met but somehow miss. Tunes doesn’t announce itself with a grand concept; it just… unfolds. You press play, and let the songs find you. And when they do, they arrive like echoes of your own inner monologue, filtered through crackle and hiss. Messy, but beautiful. Broken, but reverent. Music for the margins.
And then, as if summoned, he returns. No alert. Just two tracks: Comafields / Imaginary Fields. When I pressed play on “Comafields,” I felt that chest tremor again — the city at 3 AM, rain-soaked, throbbing with memory. It opens with mournful tumbling synths, vinyl crackle, the fragile echo of a voice: “You put your arms around me,” drenched in reverb like weary angels proffering relief . It’s elegiac, haunted, a lullaby from another plane. The intro of Comafields reads like ambient tragedy morphing into grace.
14 Films That Will Expand Your Consciousness
An Elephant Sitting Still (2018) Dir. Hu Bo
This is not a light way to start a list, but An Elephant Sitting Still is one of the most powerful films I’ve ever seen. Clocking in at nearly four hours, the movie follows several characters navigating what feels like a grey, endless hellscape in contemporary industrial China. Their lives are bleak, violent, and often hopeless but all are drawn to a rumor about an elephant in a distant zoo that supposedly just sits still, unmoving, uncaring. It becomes a symbol of peace, or maybe just detachment, and each character dreams of going to see it.
The film is slow and heavy, but it’s never boring. You really feel like a citizen of that town. The way it’s shot, the pacing, the quiet grief in the script it all builds this intimate sense of place. Knowing what happened behind the scenes makes it even more haunting. This was director Hu Bo’s first and only feature. After a long battle over creative control during post-production, he took his own life in 2017, shortly after finishing the final cut. Watching this, you feel how much of himself he poured into it. It’s one of those rare cases where the runtime feels like part of the statement—he meant it to be this long. And somehow, it flies by.
The Fifth Seal (1976) Dir. Zoltán Fábri
This Hungarian film feels like a moral trapdoor. The premise sounds simple: four men are sitting in a Budapest bar during WWII when a stranger enters and poses a question. The question is roughly this: If you could be reborn, would you choose to come back as a tyrant who commits evil but sleeps peacefully at night, or as a just, innocent man who suffers and dies in pain?
At first, it’s just a thought experiment. But as the story unfolds, the ethical dilemma becomes horrifyingly real, and the characters’ answers begin to ripple through the rest of the film. It’s tight, talky, philosophical, but it hits you hard. Like a darker version of the trolley problem, it doesn’t offer any neat conclusions. Just the uncomfortable fact that moral clarity can disappear under real-world pressure
(The original Hungarian title is Az ötödik pecsét, and the film was adapted from a novel by Ferenc Sánta.)
The Taste of Tea (2004) Dir. Katsuhito Ishii
This is probably one of the gentler films on this list. The Taste of Tea is about an eccentric family living in rural Japan, and even though the plot is loose, the feeling it gives you is so warm and strange. It’s often compared to Fanny and Alexander for its dreamy blend of the domestic and the surreal. The visuals are quietly surreal, ghostly doubles, floating bodies, giant faces, but everything is played calmly and sincerely. It’s like childhood remembered as a beautiful hallucination. You start to feel like a member of the family yourself. Even though nothing too dramatic happens, it sticks with you. One of those rare films that’s funny, bittersweet, and totally its own thing.
Electra, My Love (1974) Dir. Miklós Jancsó
This isn’t a movie it’s a moving ritual. Jancsó adapts the Greek myth of Electra into a series of just twelve shots that unfold over a sprawling Hungarian plain, capturing rebellion, ritual, and myth in one hypnotic flow. It’s set under Soviet-era Hungary, so every frame brims with symbolism: power, resistance, justice, oppression, ritual performance. As the New Yorker’s Richard Brody puts it, “Jancsó weaves ancient storytelling into a sharp critique of authority and rebellion”. The film is political and spiritual at once, beautiful and unsettling, and entirely unlike anything you’ve seen.
Smiley Face (2007) Dir. Gregg Araki
Yes, this is a stoner comedy. Yes, Anna Faris gives maybe the funniest performance of her career. And yes, it’s one of the dumbest, most brilliant movies ever made. Directed by Gregg Araki—who’s better known for his stylish, emotional indie films like Mysterious Skin and The Doom Generation—this movie is a huge departure from his usual tone. But Smiley Face is a gem: fast-paced, absurd, weirdly sweet, and anchored by Faris, who plays a struggling actress who eats an entire plate of weed cupcakes and spends the rest of the day spiraling through L.A. If you love chaotic mid-2000s comedies like Dude, Where’s My Car?, Harold & Kumar, or Superbad, this one deserves a spot in the hall of fame. It’s goofy, it’s quotable, and it has way more heart than it should.
Harakiri (1962) Dir. Masaki Kobayash
This may be the greatest samurai film ever made, even better than Kurosawa, in my book. No flashy action, just a masterclass in tension and integrity. A wandering ronin asks to commit ritual suicide and unleashes a devastating mystery. Why is he really here? Harakiri confronts hierarchy, honor, hypocrisy and it ends like a punch to the gut.
Burning (2018) Dir. Lee Chang-dong
This one stays with you. Burning is loosely based on Haruki Murakami’s short story “Barn Burning,” but Lee Chang-dong turns it into something much more complex and haunting. I didn’t fully grasp it the first time I saw it—but it lingered. Then I read the short story, watched the film again, and it completely changed shape. It’s mysterious and slow and quiet, but that’s the point. The three lead performances (Yoo Ah-in, Jeon Jong-seo, and Steven Yeun) are incredible. And like the Murakami story it’s based on, the film invites more questions than answers. It’s one of those films where the less you know going in, the better. It might not click immediately, but if you give it time and maybe a rewatch or two it unfolds into something deeply unsettling and unforgettable.
(Fun side note: Yoo Ah-in appears in Peggy Gou’s music video for “Starry Night,” which adds a nice little crossover moment for fans of Korean music and film.)
Paris is Burning (1990) Dir. Jennie Livingston
This is one of the most important American documentaries ever made. Paris Is Burning captures the vibrant world of Black and Latinx drag balls in 1980s New York, where queer communities created their own language, fashion, families, and stages in the face of violence and exclusion. It doesn’t feel like a documentary—it feels like a living, breathing portrait of survival and joy. You see how culture is born, how people use art to stay alive, and how the ballroom scene became a foundation for so much of what we think of as “pop culture” today. If you want to understand queer history, or American culture more broadly, this is required viewing.
Mind Game (2004) Dir. Masaaki Yuasa
There’s nothing like Mind Game. Directed by Masaaki Yuasa, it’s an animated odyssey that throws out every rule of visual storytelling and replaces it with pure chaos. The animation shifts styles constantly—sometimes it’s cartoonish, sometimes it’s photoreal, sometimes it looks like something scrawled in a notebook during a fever dream. The story follows a failed manga artist who dies, comes back to life, and decides to truly live. It’s a movie about momentum, about seizing life and pushing beyond fear, and it expresses that in the wildest, most kinetic visuals you’ll ever see. Some people might find it ugly—but that’s kind of the point. It’s not supposed to be cute. It’s supposed to feel alive. This movie is a miracle of what animation can be when nothing is off-limits.
The Holy Mountain (1973) Dir. Alejandro Jodorowsky
This movie is f*cking insane. It’s an odyssey, a fever dream, a visual experiment, a spiritual critique, a full-blown art explosion—and somehow, it’s all one film. Directed by Alejandro Jodorowsky, The Holy Mountain tackles everything from religious dogma to capitalist hypocrisy, colonialism, and mysticism. It doesn’t even try to be subtle. Every frame is charged with symbolism, chaos, and beauty. You could analyze it forever and still miss something. It’s like Mind Game in that way—less a story, more a full-body experience. And it’s one of those films you just have to see once in your life. I still wish Jodorowsky had gotten to make Dune. After watching this, you’ll wish it too.
Audition (1999) Dir. Takashi Miike
One of the most messed-up love stories ever told. Audition starts slow almost sweet but it’s all a setup. The film follows a widower casting fake auditions for a fake film, hoping to meet a new partner. And he does. But what happens next is something you really shouldn’t spoil. This is a film that you walk into blind and leave totally wrecked. Yes, it’s violent. Yes, it’s hard to watch. But what hit me the hardest was how it captures this dark, exaggerated truth about love: the pain of wanting someone to be yours entirely, to have their full attention, to feel seen. That longing can feel obsessive. And Audition takes that idea and turns it into something truly horrifying and oddly healing. I watched it after a breakup, and somehow, it helped.
On the Silver Globe (1988) Dir. Andrzej Żuławski
This might be one of the most ambitious sci-fi films ever made. On the Silver Globe is a Polish epic that was almost lost forever. Shot in the 1970s, it was shut down by the Polish communist government before it could be finished. Years later, Żuławski returned to the project, filling in missing footage with narration and scenes of modern-day Warsaw, creating this eerie blend of cosmic fantasy and political reality. It’s based on a novel by Żuławski’s great-uncle, and it feels like a film from another planet. Costumes, language, rituals—it invents a whole world. But it’s also about censorship, control, and the power of vision in the face of suppression. You never really know what’s going to happen next, and that unpredictability is what makes it such a wild watch.
Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors (1965) Dir. Sergei Parajanov
A poetic, hallucinatory masterpiece about Ukrainian culture and folklore. Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors is set in the Carpathian Mountains, and it feels like a film made of fire and memory. It’s technically a love story—but really, it’s a portal into a vanishing world. Director Sergei Parajanov took huge creative risks under Soviet rule. This film, made in the Ukrainian language and deeply rooted in Ukrainian traditions, was seen as politically dangerous. It was beloved by Ukrainian artists and nationalists alike, and Parajanov was later imprisoned by the Soviet government for his artistic and political outspokenness. The visuals are stunning—handheld camera work, wild colors, experimental cuts. It’s like a Ukrainian Wuthering Heights meets The Color of Pomegranates. For anyone who wants to understand Slavic culture outside of Russian dominance, this is an essential text. Slava Ukraini.
Love Exposure (2008) Dir. Sion Sono
“Jesus, I approve of you as the only cool man besides Kurt Cobain.”
This movie is about everything. Like, literally everything. I’m not going to tell you the plot—not because I’m gatekeeping, but because it doesn’t help. Going in blind is kind of the only way to watch it. All you need to know is that it’s long (just under four hours), it’s divided into chapters, and it moves like a fever dream—if that fever dream was written by someone possessed by God, anime, and 2000s melodrama all at once.
Sion Sono is—unfortunately—one of my favorite directors. I say “unfortunately” because his films are so uncomfortable, so full of taboo and tension and madness, that I genuinely feel cursed having seen them. But they stick with you. His worlds are twisted and maximal and theatrical and overwhelming in a way that almost no one else attempts, let alone pulls off. Love Exposure is a movie’s movie. It’s everything all at once. Every genre. Every emotion. Every extreme. And it’s almost impossible to watch through traditional means—you’ll probably have to track it down on some dusty corner of the internet. But once you do, it’ll burn a hole in your brain for the rest of your life.
Digging into 📁 Files of Lars
Why Payton Talbott’s music is just so exciting.
When I first heard that Payton Talbott was making music, I wasn’t surprised. He’s rumored to be dating Frank Ocean—but that’s really his own business. What did surprise me was the release of Files of Lars. It’s a prime example of why you should never label someone as just one thing. Not only did he drop a fully-formed, genre-bending project, but he also made his own UFC 317 walkout song—featuring none other than the legendary Arca.
Files of Lars is a 10-track project Payton Talbott put together—seemingly just another side hobby from the UFC title contender. But what you actually get is a surprisingly cohesive batch of dark, club-ready techno. The track titles range from cryptic to absurd, with names like “Zebu ga daisuki” (Japanese for “I really love Zebu”) and “balança essa bunda” (Portuguese for “shake that ass”). It’s very sharply curated and just a fun time from start to finish. As for what Files of Lars even means—or the persona he’s created with it—you can tell Payton took a page from Frank’s book when it comes to being cryptic. There’s no clear narrative, just scattered fragments, vibes, and aliases that feel more like signals than statements. It’s the kind of mystery that invites you in without ever fully explaining itself.
It’s through his YouTube—scattered across his videos—that you start to get a clearer sense of what Payton’s goal might be. At the core, he’s just a fan of music. And that’s something you can really admire—something we hold as a mantra here at this blog. Whether it’s a UFC walkout or a cryptic SoundCloud drop, it’s clear that Payton approaches music with real curiosity and respect. Files of Lars feels less like a flex and more like a love letter to sound itself.
Watching the Files of Lars visualization really hits home that Payton is not just a fighter. He’s not just body—he’s also mind. These techno-heavy, sometimes funny, sometimes haunting tracks are matched with visuals that are deeply specific and oddly sincere. In the opening scene, he walks around in what looks like Reno (his hometown), wearing a bathrobe and a Metroid helmet. Then it switches: red costume, Gundam helmet, Isaac Clarke from Dead Space, old-man latex mask, livestream overlays, a fake chat in Japanese. It’s weird. It’s great actually.
The persona of “Lars” seems to be fluid. He wears many helmets—literally and metaphorically. It reminds you of when Frank Ocean was doing PrEP+, spinning techno in Queens while wearing a Twisted Metal clown mask. Same energy: the mask doesn’t hide the art, it is the art. It doesn’t matter who’s behind it. That lineage extends to artists like BennY RevivaL, too—another masked figure whose surreal presence and warped vocal style have built a cult around him.
Payton didn’t put the project on Apple Music, saying “huge no”, when someone asked the project wasn’t on it, that left people curious. There wasn’t a big explanation, and now with current Spotify boycotts (due to investments $700m in AI drone weapons company), you start to wonder why the sudden hate and preference. Regardless the album and the visual is on YouTube, with around 41,000 views and a top comment that says:
“Bro became a UFC fighter as a day job so he could follow his real passion as a weird YouTuber.”
The music leans techno—dancey, industrial, and raw in a way that mirrors early SoundCloud energy but with a sharper vision. It’s not trying to go viral. It’s not trying to be genre-defining. It’s just honest. And for an athlete with a public spotlight, that kind of personal weirdness is rare and worth celebrating.
At 소리 Soli, we don’t review music. We don’t rate or rank it. That’s not the point. We spotlight people who are tapped into something real—something they love—and are brave enough to share it. Payton Talbott didn’t have to make this project. He didn’t have to put on a Gundam mask and dance. But he did. Because he’s a fan of sound. Because he can. Because he wants to. And that’s exactly the kind of thing we’re here for.
“INSTAGRAM IS MY DIARY” - Feng
FENG ANSWERS QUESTIONS FROM FANS VIA INSTAGRAM STORY (JULY 20th and JULY 21st 2025)
FAN: US tour when
FENG: Soon
FAN: Favorite artist besides M.I.A.?
FENG: I love Santigold
FAN: what’s the first thing you’d do if you woke up in 2016?
FENG: Whip nae nae
FAN: who’s the coolest artist you’ve met in the us?
FENG:(shows photo with Che)
FENG: Whip nae nae
FAN: who’s the coolest artist you’ve met in the us?
FENG:(shows photo with Che)
FAN: if u were a girl what would ur bra size be
FENG: Prolly sum like 32D 💯
FAN: Favorite meal in the US
FENG: Pizza slice or bacon egg cheese from a deli
FAN: which song of yours is your favorite??
FENG: (“Who do u wanna be”)
FENG: Prolly sum like 32D 💯
FAN: Favorite meal in the US
FENG: Pizza slice or bacon egg cheese from a deli
FAN: which song of yours is your favorite??
FENG: (“Who do u wanna be”)
FAN: Does your mom still not know your a rapper
FENG: Nope
FAN: favourite show you’ve ever preformed at
FENG: Brooklyn NYC
FAN: Whats a bar you wrote that that ppl slept on
FENG: Your my EX
I’m your WHY
So we go in seperate ways
FAN: What is your favorite thing to do in your pass time
FENG: I like to watch feminist documentaries
FAN: If somone made a playlist to flirt with you what absolutely has to be on it
FENG: Frank Ocean
FAN: When will u right better lyrics
FENG: Never
FAN: can you come to the park tomorrow 🛝
FENG: Nah my mom said I’m grounded
FAN: Favorite piece of swag you own
FENG:
FAN: What do ur parents think ur doing when ur in the United States or anywhere else
😭 ✌️
FENG: I say im at my friends house
FAN: What do u smell like
FENG: Tom Ford soleil blanc
FENG: I say im at my friends house
FAN: What do u smell like
FENG: Tom Ford soleil blanc
FAN: I fucking hate you
FENG: I fucking love you
FAN: are you a facist like mia says u are?
FENG: She was joking we are cool
FAN: Do you smoke?
FENG: Sometimes
FAN: If you had to drop a diss track on a cartoon character whos catching the smoke
FENG: Fan boy and chum chum
FAN: how do i become like u
FENG: U become me by embracing you
(posted this shortly after answering this question)
FENG: U become me by embracing you
(posted this shortly after answering this question)
FAN: What is your favorite color
FENG: Pink
FAN: Do u like oud for greatness by 9090gate
FENG: My favorite
FAN: Do you love Jesus?
FENG: Yes
FAN: merch when
FENG: Very soon
FAN: Should I text my ex I miss her
FENG: 100% yes
FAN: favorite food?
FENG: Fried chicken wings
When did u start making music
FENG: January 2024
FAN: Wat do u think of indians
FENG: I love India
FAN: Fav sneaker brand?
FENG: Vans and Golden Goose
FAN: if you could be a fish what fish would you be :3
FENG: Shrimp
Fan: Which artist inspired u the most
FENG:
@miamatangi @santigold
@kidcudi @asaprocky
@fosterthepeople
Fan: Are you signed to a label
FENG: No
Fan: Favourite moment since u began making music
FENG: The entite crowd singing every lyric at my New york show
New York Show Clip
Feng’s Instagram
This blog post is for archival purposes.
and for Feng fans :3
An Aftershow Interview with Vegyn
I saw Vegyn perform live for the first time in Atlanta this past Friday at Aisle 5 his first-ever show in the city. The night started right at 9 p.m., with amr* already playing as people filtered in. Loukeman followed around 10:30 p.m., warming the crowd with a diverse and moody set, including his own track “Winzzz.”
Then Vegyn took over at 11:30 p.m. and played until 1 a.m., delivering a set that felt exactly like his music: emotionally dense, unpredictable, and deeply human. All three artists played a thoughtful selection of moody club tracks, blending their own work with deep cuts and unexpected choices. Vegyn’s set moved through tracks like “A New Kind of Love” by Imogen Heap, his own “Makeshift Tourniquet”, and “Sexy Boy” from his collaborative remix project with Air, Blue Moon Safari.
He closed the night with “You Get What You Give” by New Radicals, letting the synths stretch and drone out into the space. No mic drop, no encore just a slow, glowing dissolve. Everyone kind of just knew it was over.
I stayed back near the front of the stage. The lights came on. A few people started to trickle out. Then, Vegyn reappeared, he saw me still waiting, smiled, and gestured for me to come around to the left side of the stage where he was stepping off. I greeted him eagerly and thanked him and told him he was one of my favorite artists. I asked if I could ask him a couple quick questions. At first, he thought it was some kind of official interview, but I quickly clarified:
“Nah, I’m not press or anything. I’m just a music business student, everything you say is just gonna be in this blog I am starting. The one you’re reading right now.”
He nodded, and just like that, we started talking.
Planned Questions:
Your production often feels like it’s balancing two moods at once—melancholy and levity, chaos and calm. Do you think in emotional contrasts when you build a track?
You’ve collaborated with artists like Frank Ocean and so many talented artists, who both have very specific visions. How do you maintain your creative voice when working with someone whose world is so distinct?
On emotional contrasts in his music:
When I asked if he thinks in emotional contrasts while producing — things like melancholy and joy, calm and chaos he told me something along the lines of:
“That’s the point, you know? I’m trying to get at all emotions when I’m making music.”
He didn’t seem interested in limiting a song to a single feeling. The goal, as I understood it, was emotional totality — something that holds multiple states at once.
On collaborating with distinct artists like Frank Ocean:
I asked how he maintains his own creative voice when working with someone who has such a specific vision. He responded casually, something like:
“I kinda treat it like a job. They’re constructing the idea, and I just execute it.”
There was no ego in his answer — just a clear sense that collaboration, for him, means showing up, listening, and being of service to someone else’s vision.
On the Only Diamonds Cut Diamonds album cover:
Vegyn noticed I was wearing the Only Diamonds Cut Diamonds shirt and pointed at the cover:
“That’s actually me and my dad. I took that at the Natural History Museum in London.”
He laughed, saying that it’s a kind of photo everyone probably has and that’s why he liked using it.
Extra Questions and asked from fans (shoutout Billy and Sadie)
Vegyn On the Headache album (made with with Francis Hornsby Clark):
He mentioned that Headache was made sort of as a joke. He and Francis were just messing around — pulling text from random sources like Russian poems and ballet programs, then using AI to narrate it. They chose that specfic AI voice because it sounded some posh bragdeous British dude reading some prenticoius poetry.
“We weren’t trying to make anything serious. We were just fooling around. But then people actually liked it.”
Vegyn on performing live:
He said he doesn’t really like playing live all that much, but he does it anyway. He does it beause he genuinely wants fans to have a space to meet and feel connected.
“There are moments I enjoy playing live… but mostly, it’s about bringing the (vegyn) community together.”
Catch a Vegyn DJ set soon!
photos by @bennett
Itzel Talks SUNBEAM, Clementine, and Creating Through Summer Emotions
Your new project SUNBEAM feels warm and dreamy, and the production is soo good a mix of electronic pop. What was it like putting it together this year? What kind of feeling or story were you trying to create with these songs?
The double single SUNBEAM includes two tracks, introduced as:
“A ray of sunshine that blazes warmly
this very moment, eternal sunlight.”
This release captures the scent and light of summer.
‘Clementine’ is actually a song I wrote last year, inspired by character from the film <Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind>.
At first, I had no plans to release it, but as summer approached, I felt its mood fit the season perfectly. So I decided to share it.
This year also brought me new emotions.
As I was slowly letting go of a love that would never quite be mine, I wrote ‘Overrated’.
It became a way to preserve a beautiful feeling before it faded.
Both tracks were produced with Dasoi, a beatmaker.
He’ve recently been deeply interested in electronic sound.
He delivered his unique textures and clean electronic sound.
I wanted to share the small but meaningful emotions that someone out there might have felt too.
Just like how the <SUNBEAM> once shone gently down on me,
I hope it shines just as warmly on the listeners.
I’ve noticed in songs like Clementine and Dizzy, you mix Korean and English in a really natural, beautiful way. Is that something you do intentionally? What does using both languages help you express in your music? I think it’s a really powerful choice and it probably helps listeners who don’t speak Korean connect with you, too.
I was born and raised in Korea, but I’ve always loved the softness and texture of the English language. Especially how it flows with melody.
Since I grew up listening to music by English-speaking artists, writing lyrics in English felt pretty natural to me. Many of my favorite artists sang in English, so it just came naturally.
At the same time, as a Korean, I’ve always loved the beauty and poetic quality that the Korean language offers. I think that’s why the two languages began to blend together in my music. Not intentionally, but organically.
Interestingly, most of my audience has been international, and it’s honestly still surprising to see how far my songs have reached. I’m just so grateful to have listeners all over the world who support me and connect with my music across borders. I really feel their love!
Who/What inspires you when it comes to making music?
The music of the artists I admire inspires the desire to write songs,
And the emotions I feel in my life and relationships that truly move me to create.
What do you hope people feel when they listen to your music?
I hope that people feel a sense of closeness with me and my music. Like I’m right there beside them. Whatever they’re going through, I want to be with them in that moment. We all live different lives, go through different things, and no one can fully understand another person’s experience. But even so, I hope my music can be the kind of companion that softens the weight of solitude.
What do you like to do outside of music? Are there other ways you express yourself creatively?
I love writing and having conversations.
I enjoy spending time with people I care about, sharing recent experiences and reflecting on how we’ve been feeling.
When I’m alone, I like to explore certain topics more deeply and later share those thoughts with friends.
I also majored in dance and have a big respect for art that’s expressed through the body.
Even though I haven’t been dancing as often since graduating, I still carry a strong love and admiration for it.
Where’s your favorite place to hang out or feel inspired in Seoul?
I’d go with Hannam-dong. It’s where stylish people and trendsetters gather, and the fashion and shops always offer something inspiring.
Sometimes I enjoy working from a nearby cafe when it’s quiet.
Check out Itzel’s latest project, SUNBEAM, streaming now on all platforms.
Itzel ‘CLEMENTINE’ Official MV
Follow her on Instagram @youritzel and stay tuned for more releases.
cranes on Sentiment, Urgency, and the Sound of Moving Forward
With production credits across some of the most exciting new underground acts—Fakemink, XavierSobased, Fimiguerrero, Nettspend—cranes is quietly shaping the emotional and sonic landscape of 2025 hip-hop. His solo instrumental project Learning to Leave shows his versatility, but it’s the feeling behind his beats that keeps pulling listeners in. I only got to ask him one question, but it was the one I cared about most.
Whether it’s a solo project like Learning to Leave or production work for xaviersobased for example, what kind of emotion or energy do you hope people take away from your sound?
to me everything is kind of about moving. like having to leave something behind to move forward. having a damaging level of sentimentality and a limited amount of time. all my art is a collage. but i dont think this makes sense to other people. i hope they feel a similar pull to do something important with their time.
new album learning to leave out now on:
SoundCloud
Apple Music
Spotify
YouTube
Instagram
SoundCloud
Apple Music
Spotify
YouTube
You are now ChillingwithChao
Yo~ I go by many names—SON!C, Chilling with Chao, or just Josh! I’m a digital artist and multimedia creator crafting Chao-centric short stories or music videos—from the comfort of my favorite game. I pair visuals with music and sound design to deliver narrative-rich, immersive experiences that resonate on a personal level.
What are some inspirations behind your content besides the more obvious nostalgic games? Any unexpected influences that shape your visual or audio style? If you had to rank a personal top 5 of older video games — purely off vibes or emotional impact — what’s making the list right now?
Beyond the classic games, I draw inspiration from my days early days watching Adult Swim / Toonami's curation. Nostalgia again right? The anime, the bumps, the music, the simplicity, and the experimentation. I'd like to think I'm doing a Chao Robot Chicken skit when I'm not making music content.
besides the obvious ~
The simplicity of this game is its charm. No need for complex controls.
Sleeper game. This game took me on unexpected adventures. Peak Soundtrack.
This game with friends or family didn't miss.
Halo 3. A bonding experience. Peak online gaming.
Kingdom Hearts II
The emotional depth of this Micky Mouse game left a lasting impression. Regardless of how convaluded the story can be haha.
What kind of music have you been listening to lately? Does it ever find its way into your creative process?
I listen to lots of music. I grew up immersed in hip-hop and rap. I actively record and produce for artists! I'm into artists like J Dilla, Andre 3000, Nujabes, Kanye, Daft Punk, and that family tree. They were the soundtrack of my youth. The influence is deeply woven into all my work, often in ways I don't consciously plan. The rhythm, loops, and moods of their music seep into my content, shaping its atmosphere and feel. It's a natural blend, where the beats and vibes of my musical roots align seamlessly with the visuals story telling.
On average, how long does it take you to design one of your Chao characters or animations? What’s the part of the process that usually takes the most time or care?
Designing the Chao (that aren't characters already) is the reason I started to make content! It's the fun part! It usually doesn't take longer than 30 minutes if I'm being picky. But to be fair.. I'm always picky haha. Truthfully there are only so many ways for Chao to stand out. And for me it's about making each Chao feel alive and unique. Otherwise they'd just be like everyone else's Chao. The videos Could take hours sometimes, however! I have the same approach to them. I try different things all the time comfortably. Because as long as I'm genuine I believe success will come. I Feel like it should be about creating first! I'm fortunate that I can create with my comfort game.
Softness with Horror: An Interview with Sara (bl00dina)
bl00dina’s work lives in between gore and grace, medicine and magic, violence and vulnerability. Based in Paris, she fuses a lifelong draw to horror with a tenderness that disarms you. I sent her a few questions about her influences, emotions, and how Pilates and pastries fuel her creative life.
How did you first get into ero guro (as you say) art? Was there a specific moment or piece that made you fall in love with it?
I’ve always drawn slightly gory things, honestly, I never really went through a phase where I drew anything other than somewhat gruesome art. As a kid, sure, I had a brief period of drawing horses and princesses, but I quickly moved on to darker, more emo-style drawings LOL. Over time, I feel like I naturally found my own balance, and now I don’t even have to force it, blending softness with horror just comes intuitively to me.
Your work is both beautiful and unsettling—it creates such a strong emotional impact. What kinds of feelings or reactions are you hoping to bring out in people?
To be honest, I don’t really have specific expectations for how people should react. It’s not something I’ve thought deeply about. That said, it means the world to me when someone tells me my art helped them heal from trauma or simply made them feel better. As long as I feel the emotion I’m trying to express through the piece, whether it’s anger, fear, disgust, resilience, or sadness… I believe others can feel it too.
Who or what inspires your style the most? Are there any artists, films, music, or books that have shaped your creative world?
Absolutely! I really admire Masamune Shirow, Junji Ito (especially his character Tomie) and Shintaro Kago. I’m also deeply inspired by anything related to vampires. It’s kind of an obsession, to be honest. If I had to name two major influences that shaped me into the artist I am today, it would be vampires and medicine.
You’re based in Paris. How does the city influence your art—visually, emotionally, or even just spiritually?
Visually, I’d say the cathedrals and chapels inspire me a lot, especially when I want to draw characters connected to knights or medieval themes in general. Emotionally, though… I’m not sure it’s a positive influence (which is more often than visually). Paris can really drain you. It’s such a beautiful city, but everything moves so fast that you don’t even get the time to appreciate it, you risk losing yourself, and your mind. That said, it’s often when I feel empty or sad that I create my best work. Art becomes an escape, a safe space for my emotions.
What do you enjoy outside of making art? How else do you express yourself or recharge creatively?
Oh, I love this question! I’m super into Pilates right now. I do it three times a week to release stress (though, to avoid tendinopathy like I have now, maybe stick to twice a week, I kind of regret overdoing it, lol). I also adore discovering cute new cafés. Give me a little strawberry cake and a matcha latte and I feel instantly revived. At home, I bake all kinds of things (cookies, cakes, pancakes, you name it). I love learning new skills, and I recently picked up pottery too. I guess I’m a pretty hyperactive person overall, but if you remember one thing about me, it’s this: I love matcha, pastries, and working out.