How was Gay Song born? What emotions did you go through during the songwriting process?
Gay Song came from a place of both liberation and frustration. It started almost like a joke between us—something playful—but quickly turned into something really sincere. I was processing years of internalized shame and also this weird joy that comes when you finally say something out loud that you've been hiding. Writing it felt like peeling off layers, laughing and crying at the same time.
How did you approach the instrumentation to support the story told in the lyrics?
We wanted the production to feel raw and a little messy—kind of like how it feels to come out or confront your identity. There’s this contrast between brightness and dissonance that mirrors the emotional tug-of-war. We used lo-fi textures, distorted synths, and a beat that keeps pushing forward, like the story itself.
What was the most challenging part of recording the track?
Honestly, just getting the vocal takes right. Because it’s such a vulnerable song, there was a lot of pressure—not technically, but emotionally. Every time we tracked it, it felt like we were reliving that experience. Also, because we self-produce, it’s easy to obsess over tiny details. Letting go was hard.
What does it mean to you to release a song with this message in today's context?
It feels necessary. Visibility is still political, and queer joy is still radical. We’re in a time where queer identities are constantly being questioned or erased, so putting out a track that’s unapologetically loud and proud is our form of resistance—and also our celebration.
What can you tell us in advance about the album When U Were Mine?
The album is a diary. It’s chaotic, tender, angry, nostalgic—everything at once. Each track explores some form of love or loss, whether romantic, platonic, familial, or even self-love. It's pop, but it’s fractured. It doesn’t try to be perfect.
How does Gay Song connect with the rest of the album? Does the record follow a conceptual thread or does each song stand on its own?
Gay Song is kind of the emotional heart of the album. The songs don’t follow a strict narrative, but they’re all fragments of the same person trying to figure things out. If the album were a film, Gay Song would be that one scene where everything spills out.
What were your musical or aesthetic references during the process?
We pulled from a lot of places—early 2000s electroclash, bedroom pop, some riot grrrl energy, even hyperpop. Artists like Peaches, The Microphones, Le Tigre, SOPHIE, and some of Charli XCX’s weirder stuff. Visually, we wanted it to feel like a zine that exploded.
What sets this album apart from your previous releases?
We stopped trying to please anyone. This album is messier, more personal, and way more experimental. It’s like we stopped asking for permission and just went with our instincts. Also, we allowed ourselves to be vulnerable in a way we hadn’t before.
