소리 Soli
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.