That’s the space where “Block My Number” by Akira Sky begins—not as a song, but as a reflex. A boundary. The emotional equivalent of slamming a door and locking it twice.
This isn’t pop made for playlists. This is the kind of track born in the middle of the night, when you're pacing around your room, replaying conversations you wish never happened. Akira doesn’t just write songs—she channels confrontation, closure, and clarity into sound.
With slashing guitars and synths that sizzle like exposed wires, Block My Number crashes through you. Her voice is razor-sharp one moment and smoke-smooth the next, dragging you into the eye of the storm. There’s no sugarcoating here—just raw emotion dressed in rhythm. It feels like grunge took a deep breath and walked into a neon-lit future.
The video, filmed across New York City, mirrors that emotional voltage. Directed by Luiza Botelho and starring Brazilian actor Pablo Morais, it’s a visual descent into the emotional fallout: rain-slicked rooftops, flickering subway lights, concrete solitude. It doesn’t dramatize—it documents.
Akira Sky, who grew up shredding stages like the Whisky a Go Go before she even had a license, is no stranger to chaos. She writes, produces, and plays everything herself. After training at the Clive Davis Institute, she didn’t come out polished—she came out precise. Her music isn't genre-bound. It’s feeling-bound.
Block My Number isn’t just a breakup song. It’s a purge. A declaration that some people don’t deserve access to your peace. And Akira delivers it not as a victim, but as a narrator who’s finally reclaiming the pen.
Her debut EP is on the horizon. But this track already proves: Akira Sky isn’t here to ask for space. She’s already taken it—and set it on fire.
Añadir comentario
Comentarios