
Some songs are meticulously built over time — crafted line by line, reworked through months of reflection. Others arrive like a storm, sudden and unfiltered, spilling out in the moments when the heart is too full to hold anything in. Fairies belongs to the latter. It was written in the delicate space right after a breakup — a period suspended between emotional numbness and overwhelming intensity. And it captures something rare: the exact moment when, in the middle of emotional darkness, the faintest flicker of hope dares to appear.
“I wrote Fairies shortly after a breakup,” the artist shares. “The verses came first. They just spilled out. The chorus came soon after, inspired by a very specific moment — a flash of hope I didn’t expect. It was small, fragile, but powerful. I call them ‘fairies,’ but really, it was about rediscovering light, no matter how tiny or magical it felt at the time.”
That metaphor — fairies as small bursts of inner clarity, as symbols of resilience and gentle rebirth — forms the emotional core of the song. It’s a song that doesn’t shy away from the reality of pain but instead offers something many breakup songs don’t: a sense of movement, a sense of becoming.
A Song That Wrote Itself, and a Producer Who Listened
Writing Fairies was, in the artist’s words, “surprisingly fast.” The emotions were so raw, so unprocessed, that the lyrics flowed out without resistance. There was no need to “craft” in the traditional sense — no overthinking, no lyrical puzzles. Just expression. That clarity and honesty are deeply felt in the song’s structure: the verses feel like a quiet confession, while the chorus swells with an almost spiritual lift.
But while the writing came naturally, production took time. Nearly a year passed before Fairies found its full sonic form — and when it did, it was thanks to producer Tom Appel, who is also overseeing the artist’s upcoming debut EP. Their collaboration wasn’t just about matching aesthetics; it was about building trust and understanding.
“Working with Tom has been incredible,” she says. “He didn’t just hear the demo — he understood it. He took the sound I had in my head, the one that felt impossible to explain, and brought it to life with such care. It felt effortless.”
That collaboration gave Fairies the space to become what it was always meant to be: not just a reflection of grief, but a song with edges, energy, and emotional dimension. From the start, the artist had a strong sense of what the track needed to sound like. “I wanted it to feel cool and gritty — electric guitars, big drums — but also deeply emotional. The layered harmonies were important. They had to reflect both vulnerability and strength. That contrast is everything to me.”
Sound as Feeling: Vulnerability That Cuts Through
Musically, Fairies doesn’t sit neatly in one genre. It moves fluidly between the emotional intimacy of indie-pop, the textural richness of alt-rock, and the atmospheric pull of dream pop. It’s not trying to chase a trend — it’s chasing a feeling. And that feeling is complex: part ache, part clarity, part quiet euphoria.
The production leans into contrast. There’s a cool, pulsing undercurrent in the instrumentation — driven by guitars that echo with both sharpness and warmth — yet it’s balanced by softness in the vocals, which are layered delicately to create a sense of internal dialogue. It feels like listening to someone gently rebuilding themselves in real time.
The artist doesn’t force a narrative. Instead, she allows Fairies to exist as a moment — suspended, incomplete, beautiful in its in-betweenness. It’s a song for the people who aren’t “over it,” but are on their way.
Magic, Memory, and the First Flicker of Belief
What makes Fairies truly memorable is its emotional honesty. This isn’t a breakup anthem designed for revenge or empowerment — it’s something far more subtle. It’s about noticing the first sign of internal light after a long period of emotional darkness. That moment doesn’t always come with fireworks. Sometimes, it’s quiet. Sometimes, it feels like a whisper.
By calling that whisper fairies, the artist reclaims a kind of emotional language that many people suppress — the childlike instinct to believe in beauty, in wonder, in small things that can still carry meaning. And in doing so, she builds a bridge between past and present: between the girl who used to believe in magic and the woman who now writes about survival through art.
It’s a deeply vulnerable act, but one filled with quiet strength.
An Artist at the Beginning of Something Bigger
Fairies marks not just the release of a single, but the beginning of a new creative chapter. It’s the first glimpse of an upcoming EP that promises to dive even deeper into themes of emotional resilience, identity, and transformation. And if this track is any indication, the music that follows will be just as rich in feeling and artistic clarity.
In a world where perfection often overshadows sincerity, Fairies reminds us of the beauty in imperfection. Of the power in still feeling. Of how a song doesn’t need to shout to be heard.
Sometimes, all it takes is one flicker of light — one small, magical moment — to change everything.
And sometimes, that light sounds a lot like this.
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