KAYE Is In Control On ‘Neon God’
KAYE – Photography by Savannah Lauren
As a multi-faceted veteran artist, KAYE has grown and absorbed music in almost every way possible. From falling in love with the old soul records of her parents and teaching herself punk songs on her mother’s nylon guitar, KAYE went on to pursue music in New York, playing expert guitar and becoming a lead vocalist in the band, San Fermin, which eventually led her to blossoming into the unfiltered, admirably honest, and electrifying pop song-stress we know today.
Stream Neon God here.
In November 2016, KAYE bravely ventured out into a solo career, exploring a journey where she unashamedly reclaimed womanhood in her 2020 album Conscious Control - the artist’s first full-length record in four years. Now, KAYE is back, with her brand new EP, Neon God, and this time, she’s exploring in new ways the coming of age for women in adulthood through a blistering, inspiring, and open-hearted pop lens. On a mission to dismantle the discriminations of ageism that women face in music, media, and society, KAYE is also creating space for Asian artists in the world of indie pop, and empowering other indie artists to take control of their art for themselves, and not leaving it up to anyone else.
Through the EP’s title track, “Neon God,” KAYE showcases her talent for blending her old-soul musical influences with an exciting pop-grunge fusion. With lyrics fueled by both honesty and the human experience, KAYE’s new music rejuvenates the mind and souls of listeners eager for a new era of women in indie-pop music. On songs like “Lifeline,” and “Keep On Going Til It’s Over,” the singer-songwriter gets more vulnerable than she’s ever been, through a sonic and lyrical exploration of grappling with the meaning of life, a woman’s purpose, and a newfound identity born out of different stages of life.
With the courageous urgency of wearing her heart on her sleeve paired with the cleverness of an addictive pop beat that keeps you dancing, Neon God, sums up both KAYE as an artist and her unique perspective on life. She opened up to Amplify Her Voice about her journey as an Asian American woman in pop, the inspiration behind her new songs, and the song she’s most proud off of her new EP.
Hi KAYE, thank you for speaking with us! Do you remember your earliest musical memory?
My dad took me to the Disney store to buy me the Hercules soundtrack when I was 11. It was the first CD I ever owned, and I was obsessed with it. I actually listened to it again this week – it really holds up! It’s all gospel and blues and it’s interesting to note, 24 years later, how that totally lit me up as a kid. “The Gospel Truth” - still hits hard!
I love that you’ve said you are inspired by artists who have lived a full life. At this stage in your life and career, what is one new thing you’ve learned about yourself?
The longer I do this, the more comfortable I am regarding my creativity as a spiritual practice, and not relying on it to get me anywhere. It can be a big source of stress when you’re first starting out as an artist, wondering, “Why isn’t anyone listening to my shit?” Beating yourself up, thinking your work sucks because you aren’t seeing these external markers of success. The paradox of it all is that the more I turn inward and find out what amuses and delights me, the more often my work does resonate externally. I’m just trying to amuse myself.
How much did growing up around the globe inspire your love for your music?
I think living in a bunch of different environments and cultures really wet my appetite for touring. I love being in new places and seeing how people in different countries and cities experience music. It’s interesting though, in Singapore (where my parents are from) there really isn’t a desire in the culture for original music, which is why there’s historically been such a disconnect with my family about why I do what I do. If you’re a musician in Singapore, you’re playing as a cover band, playing songs other people already know. So it’s been interesting to break out of that as a first generation American kid, being like: actually, I have ideas that are my own, and things I need to say. So I’m gonna go ahead and say them.
You used to play in bands and now you’re making music as an incredible solo artist. Do you find there are different things you’re drawn to as a creative when you’re part of a band versus when you’re creating music on your own?
Yeah, when I was with San Fermin, I wasn’t in the creative engine of that songwriting team - that was all Ellis and Allen. So my creativity went into our live show, being the most electric and connective frontwoman possible. I learned so much about performing with my full body, instead of hiding behind my guitar like I had done in the past. Some of the best memories of my life are engaging in wild stage hijinx with those guys – crowd surfing at music festivals, or our trumpet player running onto the balcony to take a solo. It was so fun.
Neon God is an amazing EP! I know your last album, Conscious Control, was about you claiming your existence as a woman for yourself and not for anyone else. Can you talk about the overall theme on this new EP and what this collection of songs represents to you as a woman?
Thank you! A big part of this EP had to do with my coming to terms with getting older as a female musician in pop music. I had absorbed all these toxic cultural narratives saying that because I wasn’t 18 anymore, I was expiring, and it would soon be too late for me to “make it” in an old-fashioned sense. For the first time, I experienced the reality of how patriarchy and subjecting yourself to these confines of the male gaze can literally be deadly because I believed the messaging that I was losing my worth as I got older, I felt worthless. And when you feel worthless, that’s a slippery slope into: My life has no meaning. I don’t have a reason to be here. I don’t have a reason to be alive.
It’s a very real thing that a lot of women my age experience as artists, which is why I’m so fired up about dismantling it.
Writing these songs helped me gain a new perspective and realize that success can look like a million different things. It’s not just old white guys at major labels deciding who does or doesn’t make it. We have tools as independent artists at our disposal that we didn’t in the past. I can be creative at any age, and I decide what success looks like for me. No one else gets to do that.
Have you ever come across any roadblocks in the music industry either as a woman or as a woman of color and if so, how do you keep pushing through to keep making music?
Oh, all the time. On a daily basis. Being an Asian American woman, I’m constantly fighting to be seen like I belong, like I deserve to take up space. It’s wonderful that we have Asian American artists on the Billboard Top 100 like Olivia Rodrigo and Anderson Paak, but I have yet to see a full East Asian-presenting American person top the charts, and I think it has a lot to do with the fact that Asian features come across as “foreign” or “exotic to a lot of folks.
Just last year, someone stopped me as I was entering my apartment building and said, “Ni hao baby.” I chose to ignore him, as I often do. Then he said to his friend, “Oh, she doesn’t speak English.” I roared back without thinking, “I SPEAK ENGLISH, I JUST DON’T WANT TO TALK TO YOU!!!” That experience led to writing my song “Respect Me” from this EP. I was like, I am a multifaceted human being and I am a talented producer, songwriter, and guitar player. You do not get to minimize and fetishize me like I’m some fucking fantasy for you, calling me China Mommy me on the street. No. PUT SOME RESPECT ON IT.
Who or what is the “Neon God” to you?
The “Neon God” is a character that I think will remain in all my future work. She’s wacky and irreverent and resplendent. She takes up a shit ton of space simply because she wants to. She handily flicks away all these toxic narratives around being too old, too yellow, too whatever, to continue being an artist. She’s never out of time to do whatever the fuck she wants to do, because, being a god, she exists out of time.
What’s the biggest lesson you’ve learned while making Neon God?
It’s possible that I was drawn to neon colors because after the Conscious Control era, I needed to reclaim the biggest, most fluorescent version of myself. I needed to recognize that those fluorescent bits are born from feeling everything without shame, without judgment. That this trait of my feeling everything – even the garish, uncomfortable, too-much feelings – is not a weakness. It makes me who I am. It makes me alive.
What is the inspiration behind your song, “Lifeline”? Can you talk about the meaning behind it?
“Lifeline” was born from that period of depression I mentioned earlier. It was one of the most difficult periods of my life where I just felt like no matter what I did, I couldn’t pull myself out of this mucky mud pit, and every day felt like I was clawing with all 10 fingernails to get out.
One day as I was sobbing on my couch, I heard these words in a melody: “Sending a message on up to you, cuz I haven’t been doing so well / Don’t even know who I’m talking to, only know I need your help.” I talk to myself a lot, but this time I heard something respond: “I’ll be your lifeline out of here.”
Music is a lifeline out of impossible situations. It accesses places that language falls short of. That day, this song saved my life. It's an explosion of pain and joy and brutality and beauty and the commitment to feeling it all. I have come back to it over and over again in moments of terror and pain, and that same voice, maybe my own, maybe something else, has comforted me and pulled me out. I hope it does the same for others.
What song off the EP do you think represents you the most today, right now, in this moment, and why?
Ooh, probably the last song on the EP, “Keep on Going Til It’s Over.” It’s crazy that in my 20 years of making music, this is the FIRST SONG I produced entirely on my own, without the help of another producer. That feels symbolic of its meaning – it’s a recommitment to fight for my soul, to make music for my entire life, despite internalized ageism, despite the cultural gulf of misunderstanding that exists in my family, despite constantly swimming against these currents of misogyny and racism. To keep the process sacred, to keep the act of making things a devotional practice regardless of the outcome. It’s a prayer and a promise. I’m so proud of it.