I feel like the moment I could think and stand, everything I did was to perform. Music has always been what saved me, even as a kid. It was just inside of me. I released my first song when I was 12. I wouldn’t do it the same way again. But hey – it was bold!

A lot of people don’t know this, but I spent years between 12 and 20 experimenting endlessly. When I was younger, I was really into R&B because that’s what I grew up with. Then I did some kind of pop crap with random songwriters from Stockholm, L.A., or London who didn’t care about me at all. Two years ago, I found Marian and Johannes, who suddenly gave me the space I needed. For us, the process of making music is intuitive. And if a song takes weeks, months, or years to be truly good – then so be it. But no matter how pretty it all sounds, the path of an indie artist should not be romanticized. The music industry is full of kids in adult suits who have no idea what they’re doing, and young artists suffer because of it. Something has to change.

I write about 99% melancholic, nostalgic, sad, negative stuff. Depression and (I hate this word because society has overused it) anxiety are just things that accompany me. When I write about them and share it with people I care about, I feel like they can truly understand how I feel. Words alone can’t do that. But I don’t just write about what it’s like to be depressed – it’s more about all the things in life that trigger something in me. Family dynamics, addiction, growing up, falling out of love et cetera.
What gets me excited though is writing about love – when I feel it. Especially queer love. My best songs are about women. Makes sense to me. There’s nothing better.

I still haven’t managed to write a song about my dad. Losing a parent when you’re young is such a complex, complicated thing. That moment in the studio just hasn’t come yet. But I know it will. Some sound will trigger that feeling. He’s a huge reason I was so musically inspired as a kid. He was a rapper in the Berlin/NYC scene. I carry him with me through music.

A world should open up. One where you feel safe, protected, and heard. Imagine a fairy world—a magical forest, soft trees, a place to linger and let emotions flow freely. I want my listeners to simply feel and interpret everything in their own way.

In the song, I reflected on my excitement but also the desperation to find out more. The responsible Faye meets the impatient Faye. It was actually a kind of “girl crush” I had on a friend. But the typical drama in me over-interpreted everything, and that’s how this song was born – it’s definitely based on my version of reality.

Slow Burn gave me a 4th-of-July vibe while I was writing it. Like riding in the back of a pickup truck through deep forests while the orange sun sets. Sparklers. Fireworks. Almost a burnt smell, but that beautiful campfire scent. That’s one of my favorite smells. The color would be a burnt orange.

Yes, and I think not just in romantic relationships. I often catch myself prioritizing thoughts that constantly ask: “How will this end? What will the outcome be?” You just have to let go of control, and I think that’s really hard for a lot of people.

The two songs were created right after each other. It felt like a cosmic event. Common Formality is the colder sister of Slow Burn. In this song, I unintentionally slipped into the perspective of the other person who had no feelings for me. There’s also that colder, more calculated side of love. Apologies no longer come from the heart – they’re just formalities.

Honestly, I don’t draw a line at all. You could say my songs are autobiographical. Every little detail is real. At least in my head (laughs).

I’d say Slow Burn is passionate. It takes a while in the song to reach the bridge, where everything explodes. The production becomes liberating in the chorus, so that everyone who listens feels what it’s like to be in love.
Common Formality is ironically very untraditional but crafted to be manipulative. The lyrics are totally detached and cold, but the production tricks your brain because it still gives you a feeling – something melancholic, even pitiful.

Yes. The live world scares me, but it’s also what I enjoy the most. I’ll play my first headline show in Berlin, my hometown, on May 23. I don’t even know what to expect yet. Before that, I’ll be doing a showcase in Utrecht. I love the Netherlands – I manifested that. 90% of the songs I’ll perform will be new and never heard before.