When sisters Katie and Carly Haynes first began the creation process of their latest KTJ & Carly EP, Ego Death, they were looking for a solid foundation that would take their songs to the next level.

They were not sure what they wanted their next body of work to look like, so after jumping into a few writing sessions and writing songs “Heartless” and “Soliloquy”, they noticed a central theme that they wanted to further tap into.

“Our first body of work, Identity, was about finding yourself,” Katie said. “I feel like when the theme started coming up [of] losing yourself and then finding yourself again, we ended up really focusing on it.”

“It all came pretty naturally,” Carly added. “It wasn't forced, which was really nice because we didn't really feel like we were restricted either.”

Since they wanted to start with a solid foundation, this time their writing process began on the piano. They challenged themselves to write more songs that stand alone well with a single instrument.

The most rewarding song on the EP, “Pink Ferrari”, feels like a follow-up to their 2021 single, “Hidden”. Katie said “Hidden” was about concealing who you are because you are scared someone won’t accept you, while “Pink Ferrari” is about knowing you are still loved despite your flaws.

“It's more ‘inviting your demons to the after-party’, accepting your flaws and knowing we all have issues,” she said. “There's so much power and happiness in accepting who you are.”

The last song on Ego Death, “Signing Off”, is the song that speaks the most to their album title. It is a metaphor for not giving into the expectations that society sets for us and refusing to feel the pressure of being successful in any way that success can be interpreted.

Their first EP, Identity, heavily influenced Ego Death in that Ego Death feels like a sequel to Identity. This EP shows that they have clearly grown as artists and individuals, and learning from their past has given them the inspiration to write this latest batch of songs.

In addition to the EP, they also released a conceptual short film that was filmed in Joshua Tree. It speaks to the theme of losing your ego and finding yourself, using visual metaphors to provide a deeper explanation of Ego Death.

“Every song that we chose ended up being related to the five layers of ego, and each song was covering the topic of how it either affects you badly or in a good way,” Carly said.

Many residents of Oklahoma believed that the Oklahoma City Bombing of 1995 was the deadliest act in their history. When the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building was demolished, as well as dozens of cars and more than 300 nearby buildings, 168 people perished and several hundred were injured. The FBI’s official website states, “No stone was left unturned to make sure every clue was found and all the culprits identified.”

The same cannot be said for the Tulsa Race Massacre of 1921.

According to author Susan E. Atkins, Oklahoma State Representative Don Ross had to correct reports that the 1995 bombing was the worst disaster in Oklahoma history. Atkins, a Tulsa resident for 30 years, a graduate of the University of Oklahoma and professor at the University of Tulsa, had never heard of the 1921 race massacre. For almost 100 years, this tragedy was swept under the rug, and that infuriated her.

Atkins dove into as many scholarly sources as she could find about the massacre. Historically accurate, well-annotated books were right at her disposal, yet history books were notably absent of any trace of this piece of history. This inspired her to write a historical fiction account of the massacre called Never Again!

With six pages of bibliography, Never Again! brings a fictionalized account of what occurred between Black man Dick Roland and white woman Sarah Page, beginning inside an elevator of the Drexel Building on May 30, 1921. On May 31 and June 1, 1921, thousands of drunk, armed and newly deputized white citizens invaded Tulsa's thriving Greenwood District, murdered an estimated 300 Blacks, tortured thousands more and incinerated 35 city blocks of homes, businesses, churches and other institutions.

“The Greenwood community was known as ‘Black Wall Street’, but the Tulsa Tribune, which was a big player in this whole thing, were just fanning the flames of what a cesspool of drugs and [sex workers] Greenwood was,” Atkins said. “They just totally ignored the fact that there were brilliant doctors, lawyers, fine jewelry shops, churches, and all of it was burned to the ground over the course of two days.”

Atkins created two fictional characters to help move the story forward to present day, including Hattie Johnson Rogers, daughter of Roland and Page, and her best friend, Lucy Ann Barnes. They meet when entering Booker T. Washington High School, and become lifelong friends who eventually become part of the conversation of fighting for reparations. The book speaks of the real 2005 case appeal that the U.S. Supreme Court refused to hear, and how real people Representative Don Ross and Senator Maxine Horner helped commission a report to get real answers.

As of May 2022, the plaintiffs in a lawsuit seeking reparations for the massacre are finally moving forward. An extensive curriculum was introduced to Oklahoma school districts. President Joe Biden became the first sitting president to visit the area. A free, public exhibit is offered by the Tulsa Historical Society and Museum. Progress has been made, but is not finished.

“I truly want people to be able to learn about this story and history,” Atkins said. “What people forget about something like this is that the wealth that could have been passed on to subsequent generations, and wealth could have accumulated through generations. [Those who survived] fled, never to return. It was a tragic loss for the city of Tulsa and the community of Greenwood.”

I knew I wanted to make music since I was around nine years old. I remember a good friend of my parents being a musician. He played the piano almost effortlessly. We went to one of his concerts and after seeing him play I knew I wanted to be just like him.

Growing up, Asa Windle’s childhood involved an array of R&B artists that his mother would play for him. Boyz II Men, Jodeci and Aaliyah were staples in their household, but his late teens and early 20s found him in the metal scene.

One of Windle’s best friends, who he really admired and looked up to, was always playing in metal or hardcore bands, and it wasn’t long before Windle began playing alongside them. He never forgot his R&B roots, however.

Roughly two years ago Windle began working with Emarosa vocalist Bradley Scott, who recognized Windle’s interest in pop and R&B and helped find his place in that world.

“[Scott] started influencing that sound for me a lot and really helped me find my sound,” Windle said. “We’re still working on it but that really gave me the push to go ahead and just say that I'm done with the band thing and I'm going to dive head first into this solo stuff.”

With Scott’s assistance in structuring and expanding upon the songs he’s written, Windle has a five-track EP he plans to release this summer under the name Asa Lloyd. The first single, “Crutch”, shares a story of the darker parts of what happens after the after-party. The second single, “LMK”, shares a similar theme, as does the rest of the EP.

“The entire theme of the EP is a lot of issues of infidelity and uncertainty,” he said. “Loss, regret; just discovering yourself and figuring out when you do have people that count on you in life and what your role is in their world versus your world, and if you're going to keep attachments or not to move forward with your life.”

Windle’s writing style has greatly improved since his metal band days, learning to stop forcing things that never made sense and writing from the heart instead. Nowadays, a simple guitar riff or piano melody can trigger a moment that brings out a song he can stand by.

“When I was playing in bands, it always felt like I was putting pieces together that didn't really fit,” he said. “I think from all that experience I learned that I needed to stop trying to make something work that didn't work and start doing more of what my heart told me to do musically.”

As he gears up for his EP release, Windle hopes that there is someone out there who hears his music and relates to the message. He believes that few artists share the parts of life that nobody wants to talk about, but he isn’t afraid to go that route.

Anh Le and her long-time collaborator, Charlie Kurata, utilized remote production sessions long before it became one of music’s only options. With Kurata in Paris and Le in Brooklyn, they’ve been able to delve into the pop world together to create unique content for Le’s project, ÊMIA.

When they first began working on music for ÊMIA’s upcoming two-part EP, VIDEO CALL:AM and VIDEO CALL:PM, they originally were writing songs with the intention of releasing them as an anonymous pop duo. As they realized how much of an undertaking that project could be, and how much more Le was connected to the songs, they decided that Le should just release them herself.

“A lot of these songs were made with this guise of no one's going to know it was me,” she said. “I think it really made me feel pretty bold in that sense; being able to say whatever I wanted.”

VIDEO CALL:AM is hopeful - Le is very much a morning person, and sees this tracklist as songs to get someone through their morning commute. VIDEO CALL:PM is energetic - it has a much more party-all-night, still-awake-at-3-in-the-morning vibes.

The first song she released, “fake scenarios”, was the first song she and Kurata wrote together for the project.

“I think that the idea of being the kind of person that lives in your own head and makes up these fake plots and daydreams a lot - I think that's something that Charlie and I have a lot in common and something that is a big part of our friendship. I think that it's just this hopeful spirit that kicks off the project in a really cute and meaningful way because I think it's part of who we both are at this point in our lives.”

The second song she released, “being single”, touches on that feeling of constantly needing to be in a relationship but how that feeling is more harmful than helpful. The diary entry-turned-song stemmed from many conversations Le and Kurata had about disastrous first dates, hookups and situationships, and a snippet of one of those conversations even makes it into the final version.

As she gears up to release her next single, “blink twice if she’s holding you hostage”, she recognizes that sometimes songs just need to be an episode of a soap opera, and that is exactly what her next single is.

“I think me and Charlie have an understanding of sometimes you just have to say the wild, stupid thing and prevent yourself from doing the stupid thing, but also just to have it exist,” she said. “I love making space for an ugly, weird feeling so I think that's part of our mission too in making all these songs.”
Le hopes that her music as ÊMIA can attest to how much fun she is having while proving that she is working tirelessly to create music she is proud of. With Kurata by her side, the release of VIDEO CALL:AM and VIDEO CALL:PM is going to be memorable.

When Ruby Greenberg initially started writing music, she didn’t intentionally guide her songs into a particular genre. Instead, she just began writing and watched those songs take shape.

“I wasn't trying to force a certain sound or emulate a favorite artist,” she said. “What I learned was that listening to myself and following that inner voice made me happy. Following the voice that felt right to me, even if it was a different voice than what my friends or teachers expected to hear from me at the time, was rewarding. It was also a little scary. I learned that it's important to let go of the attachment for trying to please others, and instead just be your authentic self.”

Lately, she’s found herself enjoying piano songbooks from various artists. From Carole King’s Tapestry to Sara Bareilles’ The Blessed Unrest, she has been a songbook collector for many years and finds them to be useful teaching tools.

“Even as a singer, I'm actually a very visual person - I like to see the chord shapes and harmony on the page,” she said. “I like to read the lyrics as I learn the songs. Learning other artists' songs is a great inspiration to me. Even if I don't perform them at gigs, it's a great practice to spend time playing through others' music. It allows new ideas to grow and can be helpful with artists' block.”

Artists’ block was not a problem for her latest single, “Roses”. Greenberg wanted a simple, stripped down production with just voice and acoustic guitar, and ended up adding a few other subtle elements. It was challenging, however, to find those lyrics so exposed.

“There is nowhere to hide,” she said. “The lyrics, voice and story sit right on top of the other parts, right over the mix front and center.”

Greenberg compared the lyrics to channeling the unconditional loyalty of a golden retriever. She has noticed loyalty is seen and felt often but rarely verbally articulated. For “Roses”, she wanted to express support, devotion and acceptance.

She hopes that listeners feel the story she is telling and connect with it. It is an emotional piece, but also a reminder that sometimes people just need to hear that they are loved.

“The idea of bringing ‘roses’ to someone became a metaphor for just being there for them, and accepting the truth that they share with us,” she said.

Ruby Greenberg fully showcases her vocals in “Roses”, letting her storytelling inspire others to be there for one another. It’s a timely message with a timeless narrative, but ultimately it’s a beautiful expression of honesty.

In 2000 I was eight years old. My dad was about to take me to one of my baseball games (for which I was probably more keyed up than any little kid should be) in his Ford F-150 and he put in a silver colored CD with four letters on the front: K-I-S-S. I know this band brings up certain feelings for a lot of listeners, but keep in mind - I don't care. I remember him saying that I was about to hear his favorite band from when he was my age, so naturally my ears perked up.

What happened next literally changed the course of my life. It took me from a little kid obsessed with baseball to a little kid obsessed with baseball and music. The opening guitar notes of "Detroit Rock City" invaded my ear drums. The seven hits to the snare just before the rest of the band exploded in blissful unison pulled me to the edge of my seat. The opening vocal line from Paul Stanley was the nail in the coffin in which my life before rock and roll was buried.

I literally felt like I was being sucked into the radio. My stomach was buzzing, my eyes were glued to the front console as if the band members were going to jump out of the speakers and into the truck cab. I completely forgot about playing baseball that night. After that night, I listened to that CD (which happened to be KISS' greatest hits) over and over again. I listened intently to the guitar solos, the drum fills and the delicious vocal hooks. It was the first time I remember being able to pick out each individual instrument.

It was also the first time I recall knowing what was happening within a song, and where it might go next. I felt as if I had jumped headfirst into a white water river where I couldn't drown; the further I dove in, the more I wanted it. Then I got a look at the band members themselves. They were like superheroes. They were larger than life. They were literally huge (three out of four band members were over six feet tall) and they wore lifted shoes. They lived what they sang about. They were angry, they were free and they were freaking good at what they did. They made it look easy.

I decided that I had to be part of whatever they were doing. I had to learn how to make those noises. I had to learn how to do what they did. I didn't have any interest in wearing the makeup, but I wanted the swagger. I wanted the skill. That was the moment I knew I had to make music.

The early 2000s fascinates R. Flex, from the hip-hop dominated charts to the idyllic harmonies of pop groups. Everything about the 2000s inspired their latest EP, Flex With Benefits.

Artists like Craig David and Daniel Bedingfield really spoke to them during their preteen years, while Janet Jackson and Mariah Carey’s advocacy for the LGBT community meant something more than words. Creating this EP not only showcases their love for the late 90s/early 00s, but reminds them of just how much their music is influenced by that time.

“The world was going to end in a blaze of technological meltdowns and yet pop/R&B music was so electronic,” they said. “While I wasn’t hyperfocused on remaking Y2K music, it’s wild that in 2020 we had a similar worry of a world meltdown. It makes sense that I became nostalgic for a time before the Pandemmy. I just can’t put my finger on why it was the music of Janet Jackson, Craig David, Daniel Bedingfield, Mariah Carey, N*Sync, Blackstreet, Dream and Destiny’s Child that called back to me. Perhaps it’s because I was just focused on making songs that made me feel good. Perhaps it’s because I felt haunted by the world meltdown of the 2000s.”

The final tracklisting - “Too Late”, “4U”, “Know Where”, “La La Land”, “DNA” and “Inhale” - all follow a theme of innocence. Following their debut EP, In & Out, they wanted to share songs that brought a more celebratory, liberating feeling.

“I wanted to queer the narrative of life after assault and show there can be reclamation of one’s self and it can be fun,” they said. “Aside from ‘Inhale’, which finds me in a different incapacitating position, the other songs strike a cheerful tone that I hope cheers up my fans.”

One of the tracks, “Too Late”, was originally meant for DESIIRE, who sent R. Flex a beat and asked them to write the verses. The first verse was written in half an hour; the second verse a few weeks later. When DESIIRE decided to go in a different direction on his album, he gave the song to R. Flex and they ended up collaborating on the final version along with Tafari Anthony.

What surprised R. Flex most about this EP was the significant growth they noticed in their vocal abilities. Each song challenged them in a different way, and required developments to their vocal range that they hadn’t tried before.

The inspirations of the 2000s led R. Flex to a musical space that let him embrace everything he loved growing up. These songs represent an authenticity that he hadn’t fully embraced before, and hopes that listeners find a way to embrace it within themselves.

“I hope listeners take away the message to be authentically you,” they said. “If you’re queer, be that. If you’re nonbinary, embrace that. Gender constructs deny a lot of BIPOC of their own gender constructions and we are so much more than the binaries. We always have been. So, listen to the voice within, trust it and follow it. It is your freedom. I hope fat folks feel sexy listening to my music. I hope they feel confident. I hope they live within every inch of their sexy confidence.”

Photo courtesy of Dana Gorab

I know some people say that you should hold your feelings inside and some don’t want grown men to cry, but as a music lover and a musician myself, I tend to love the shows where I connect with the artist. Where I feel that the song is written for me or about me. I can truly say that I have been very emotional on many occasions at shows but there are a couple of very special moments that I tend to go back to when I want to remember a really strong, sad but also empowering moment.

In this case there was a very small show for a school for pop/rock/funk artists called Kulturama. Young adults were performing and there was a lot of talent in that room. The thing is that I know that one of the singers, a very young female singer, had cancer, and it was terminal. She did not have much time left but with the support of her friends and with heavy medication she had pushed herself to be a part of this final show.