There are few situations more stressful than losing your passport. But luckily, for Tkay Maidza, the panic-ridden circumstance ended up being a blessing in disguise.

Forced to wait in Berlin for her visa, the hip-house musician decided to take advantage of her involuntary months-long stay by making a pact with herself to do something new every few days. Soon, late nights and new friends reminded Maidza what life was all about, and Berlin became the birthplace of creative renewal — and her second album Sweet Justice.

"I feel the most creatively free when I'm having fun," the Zimbabwe-born, Australia-raised artist tells GRAMMY.com over Zoom. True to her vibrant spirit, Sweet Justice is a product of not only her search for novel experiences, but also the liberty she unlocks by breaking routine.

Long before her rejuvenating Berlin ventures, Maidza's 10-year-plus musical journey took off with her stomping debut single "Brontosaurus," leading to the success of her 2016 self-titled debut album. Influenced by visionaries like Azealia Banks and Kendrick Lamar, the singer/rapper honed her skills even further with a refreshing EP trilogy titled Last Year Was Weird (2019-2021) — and her ambition landed her opening slots on Billie Eilish and Dua Lipa's massive 2022 tours.

Ups and downs transpired after her three-prong EP series — as Maidza changed management, ended some rocky friendships, and moved to Los Angeles. Following this transitional period — and a few insightful tarot card readings — karma emerged as a core theme for Sweet Justice.

While Maidza is in firm control of her artistic vision (she gives thanks to her Capricorn placements), she's still welcome to the liberation that manifests upon leaving everything up to the universe. There's a restorative, exhilarating energy that floods Sweet Justice, and with influences like Missy Elliott and Janet Jackson, it's no wonder her fusion of hip-house, R&B, and alternative pop resonates so deeply.

Maidza is continuing to tap into life's many joys and adventures. As much as she loves diving into Reddit threads and playing tennis, she's back on the road, celebrating her album release by touring through 2023's last couple months.

Fresh off a flight from London, Maidza chatted with GRAMMY.com about her creative reinvention, understanding music as an experience, and how Sweet Justice came to life.

This interview has been edited for clarity.

Tarot card readings helped inspire some of the themes in Sweet Justice, like karma and rebirth. Tell me about that.

I've kind of been always obsessed with tarot card reading since I started touring. I think it's because my mom would tell me that she kind of knew that I was going to venture off into music, but she was waiting for the right moment to tell me. So it became something to do whenever I had some confusion in terms of where to go.

After the Last Year Was Weird project, I was going through a lot of transitions — in regards to friends, from moving cities from Australia to LA. There was a big question mark of what to do next after my EPs. I remember, in a lot of the situations that I was experiencing, it didn't feel really fair. But when I had tarot readings, I kept getting the Justice card… that was kind of my theme for the album. I was like, I just have to regain my confidence and be healthy and be well and leave it all to the universe.

Also, I just took inspiration from the actual [Justice card] artwork with the reds, golds, and how the person in the terracotta is like sitting down in the middle; it's about balance and transformation.

I was just about to say, the album cover is gorgeous. Was it partially inspired by the Empress tarot card, too? I feel like they're a bit similar.

Definitely. There's always the High Priestess and the Empress. I just felt like with the Justice card, there's a lot of red, and I wanted to focus more on those colors.

But yeah, when I was doing my last EPs, that was more based on the High Priestess, where the centerpiece is a woman, and it's also the idea of birth and rebirth and abundance and enlightenment. And I think it has this ethereal feeling as well, and those three pictures, they also give that emotion of endless possibilities.

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You've worked with some big names to produce Sweet Justice — Flume, KAYTRANADA and Stint, to name a few. Tell me about a moment one of those producers helped you push your creative boundaries.

I feel like I've always been working up to working with these producers. They were on my wish list since I began making music. Working with them in person, I feel like I was being pushed by basically trying to impress them, like I wanted to make sure it was a song that I could imagine them having with another artist. It was just putting my best foot forward.

I'm so lucky that they're all really nice people. And they were like, Whoa, this is sick. Wow. This is cool. They weren't really trying to control the sessions or anything, it was more so them letting me be myself. And that level of me pushing myself just came from making sure it was up to par with how I see them as producers.

What surprised you the most about the album making process?

The thing that surprised me the most was probably the amount of trust that I had in myself. I hadn't really trusted myself that much before, and in this process, I was working with so many different producers, so I kind of held it together more than I thought. I thought it might turn into a big mess where you're like, Oh my god, I need to rely on someone, but it flowed so easily. I felt like I was in a really good energy for two or three months where I made six songs that I just really love.

Beforehand, I was kind of in this bubble of not writing for eight months. So I was like, oh my god, I have to literally finish this before the end of the year. And it was the right time, right place, right people. And it came together. I think it was mostly just my attitude towards the whole process was what surprised me because I've definitely had moments where I feel stuck.

Right, finding the right headspace is just so important, especially for creative projects. When you kind of stumble into a period of uncertainty, or face a creative block, how do you navigate that?

I try to listen to a lot of music, but I also just try to live and have fun. If I get into a block, there seems to be some sense of monotony going on in my life; I'm not as inspired because I'm not experiencing enough. It could just be like, I'm just too zoned in on one aspect of my life. But when I open it up, then there's like a more free flowing energy, and I'm able to make the most out of every moment of the day.

It's important to switch up your routine! What are your favorite hobbies, outside of music?

I love playing tennis. I honestly love being on Reddit. I don't even know if that's a hobby. Listening to podcasts, hiking, going bowling, going to aquariums. Going on long drives to random places that I've never been, just seeing the environment that I'm in. And I think I'm really lucky being in LA because you can travel 30 minutes to an area you've never been in. It's a completely new experience.

Your EP trilogy Last Year Was Weird served as your reintroduction to the world. What was your approach to that three-part project versus Sweet Justice?

When I went into the three LPs, it was almost like a rebranding for me, in the music sense, but [also] as a person. I wrote down 50 things I hoped to achieve five years from now… I had to grow as a person as well, because I was on the beginning of experimenting with old R&B, old rap, and all that. I knew I really liked it.

But then those three EPs were the process of me improving. I hoped that when each project came out, it would catch onto more people. So that was the rebrand and hopefully, there's new people that come on the journey. And I was really lucky to see that that's what happened.

With Sweet Justice, the idea was reconfirming and doubling down that this is the space that I sit in… In some ways, it's saying I'm a chameleon, but I think there's a common thread with a lot of songs from the EPs and this album.

And that's what I wanted to further cement because I feel like sometimes artists can do something that's really dope, and then they just completely jump to the other side again, and you're just like, What? So yeah, I just wanted to further cement that I'm like, This is who she is, and I hope you like it.

You mentioned rebranding. Does that process feel natural to you, or do you feel like there's more of a pressure to reinvent yourself constantly?

It wasn't natural; it felt necessary to me. When I started off in the music industry, I wasn't really sure what I was doing; everything I released felt like trial and error. By the time I got to Last Year Was Weird, I was like, OK, we've been in the music industry for like, five years, and now we can't be reactive, we have to be proactive. So it just felt more meaningful when things worked out, because it was what I was setting out to do each time. I just wanted to make sure that I had control of the direction that I was going instead of being like, oh, this random song that I made in a session worked out.

One thing I love about your artistry is that you emphasize making music into a full, lush experience. What are some of the ways you feel music transcends just pressing play on your phone?

Having the complete package brings you back to a moment in time. When I think of when Kanye West released ​​My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, you can remember that year — when you saw the music videos, the emotion that evoked. And how it was relevant to your actual life.

When you cover all those bases, it's not just a song. You're living it. And I'm almost inviting everyone to understand my perspective… Making it immersive is so important to me. Because sometimes you might not understand the song, but if you see it, and you see the way the person is holding themselves, it sells it more to you, and it makes you love it more… they're coming along on this journey with you.

Tinashe's 333 Album Elevates Her To A New Level Of Freedom

Hip-hop has long been a male-dominated space, despite the success and indisputable influence of female generational talents. From the jump, women have overcome gatekeepers and expectations, beginning with MC Sha-Rock, then via Salt-N-Pepa, Lauryn Hill, Missy Elliot, and more recently with Gangsta Boo, Nicki Minaj, City Girls and Noname have overcome gatekeepers and expectations. Contemporary acts such as GloRilla are continuing their efforts and reaching a demographic that had never been excessively marketed to in hip-hop: women who want to hear rap music from women.

Rap is slowly becoming a more inclusive space — with an audience that’s finally willing to carve out a space for diversity and sex-positivity for all genders — and open to a myriad of subgenres, with female rappers leading the pack. In 2021 did Cardi B became the first female rapper to acquire a diamond-certified single. Any club in America that doesn’t play Meg Thee Stallion should be considered a rarity. Ice Spice is the first female drill rapper to break into mainstream culture. 

The stage has been set for a new generation of artists, largely thanks to the genderless, wide reach of social media platforms. Today, misconceptions which hide the grit of Gangsta Boo, the explicit sensuality of  Lil’ Kim, and the lyrical and political expertise of Noname are beginning to dissolve. The glass ceiling has broken, giving into an exponential increase in the number of female artists: ramblers, trash talkers, storytellers and sexually-charged drill rappers. 

Women are pioneering the future of hip-hop, and their styles have never been more pronounced. GRAMMY.com offers a list of 14 rising female artists that you should keep an eye on in 2023 and beyond. 

Sexyy Red 

Odds are, you’ve heard "Pound Town." If you haven’t, lie low for the next few minutes as the St. Louis rapper spares no detail from her sexual exploits.

Much like Lil’ Kim, Sexyy Red is not only sex-positive, but infamous: "My coochie pink, my booty hole brown, I just left Pound Town," she declares. Sexyy Red also encourages empowerment, uplifting women’s self-worth. On "Hellcat SRTs," she proclaims to her fellow compatriots: "Bad bitches, we like fast cars. We like n—s that sell drugs with fast cars." 

In all seriousness, Sexyy Red is audacious, confident, and the next hottest rapper to come out of St. Louis. Keep your eyes peeled and listen to Hood Hottest Princess from earlier this year whenever you need to hype yourself up.

Babyxsosa 

Ex-SURF GANG member Babyxsosa was one of the first viral rappers to breakout on TikTok during the pandemic, but her story goes much further than the bright tones and oddly-sporadic drums of "Everywhereigo." Her dainty, autotuned voice and lush soundscapes make her the Internet’s iteration of a soul singer. She’s warm and intimate, using simple lyrics in order to croon through feelings of desire and despair. 

At heart, however, Babyxsosa is underground hip-hop’s Billie Eillish crossed with PinkPantheress. Beats mutate to the sound of her voice. Where her singles of the past four years have ranged from cacophonous, leady synthesizers to elevator music dapped with 808s, her recent EP, Bling Bling, is demonstrative of eery, melodic versatility, laying muted-verses to club beats, using range of different experimental digicore instrumentals to challenge herself as both a vocalist and songwriter.

Hook

Hook can’t be likened to any one sound in hip-hop. Some of her beats beep like 8-bit minigames, others are made of single oscillating synthesizer chords; generally, her production has a heartbeat that fades in and out and loops, giving each song its own life, and agitation thereafter. 

The Riverside, California-raised rapper seethes in her verses, rambling out of frustration and joy and disappointment and confusion and anger and disgust and sadness and every emotion in-between. Still, Hook and her avant-garde approach to rap is erratic and hilarious and lyrically distinct in every way.

Armani Caesar 

Armani Caesar is the first and only female rapper on Griselda Records, which has featured Boldy James, Mach-Hommy, Westside Gunn, Conway the Machine, Benny the Butcher and more. Like the latter three, Armani Caesar hails from Buffalo, N.Y. delivering gritty, tooth-and-nail stories of the streets, but with a bit more rhythm than a dusty ’45 record. 

She incorporates pop rhythms and seeks more towards the disco-era and modern technology for a cadence that’s just a hair shy more uptempo than soul. Armani Caeser’s rhythm is infectious, but her lyrics are venomous. Look at the cover art to her single, "Diana," cover art, she’s Lil’ Kim had she hustled in Buffalo.

Little Simz

Though Little Simz is not necessarily a rising artist, her success has been exponential since the release of 2021’s Sometimes I Might Be Introvert. The UK grime-turned-amorphous rapper of equal parts technically flawless and lyrically awe-inspiring. Over garden party-esque orchestral swells she can deliver a poem penned to her own empowerment, but she can also rap a 16-bar verse with a live band almost breathlessly. 

She’s punchy and energetic, sentimental and adamantly altruistic. A fire burns in Little Simz, and the spark is fanned with each beat of the drum.

Amaarae 

Where hip-hop has begun to transition towards two extremes — heavy metal on one side and drumless beats on the other — Amaarae presents a hidden alternative. The Ghanaian vocalist ushers in a new conception of hip-hop, bringing an Afro pop influence that's reminiscent of Doja Cat’s debut album, Hot Pink.

Amaarae produces her own work, blending traditional Ghanaian instrumentation and polyrhythms with a digitally-created drum circle. As the music claps into double time, Amaarae’s voice speeds up and down, wavering between rapping and singing. She does it all, and after the viral success of "SAD GIRLZ LUV MONEY" and its remix with Kali Uchis, Amaarae dropped a new EP in July, Fountain Baby, scoring the scorching heat of the summer. 

Tkay Maidza  

Creating an electronic collage of house, club, drum n bass, afro beats, and live drum breaks, Tkay Maidza exceeds the term "multi hyphenate." Whether she’s collaborating with JPEGMAFIA or Flume, Tkay creates dystopian worlds in her soundscapes, cut with screeching basslines and glitching snares. Her music is neo-R&B as she deems fit, soulfully calling on Kari Faux for over articulation on "Don’t Call Again;" it’s rage rap on the industrial track, "Grasshopper;" it’s even a derivative of EDM in her latest single, coyly titled, "Silent Assassin."

Flo Milli 

Flo Milli is the young, happy-go-lucky artist within this new crop of talent. Her voice is an alto and her lyrics are just conceited enough to radiate excellence while delivering some of hip-hop’s most clever remixes for Gen Z listeners. 

Whether she’s rapping to Ethereal’s beat on Playboi Carti’s "Beef" or to Too $hort’s "Blow the Whistle," Flo's enfranchising rhymes drive confidence and sexual prowess into her listeners. On "Roaring 20s," she playfully takes on the role of Daisy from The Great Gatsby, fascinated by ragtime-inspired production and men who would give up anything to spend a few minutes with her. That’s the magic of Flo Milli: she’s animated, fluidly jumping to whatever style and aesthetic she deems worthy of her exhibition.

CLIP 

In her many lives, CLIP has graduated from NYU, had a flourishing career in journalism, and ended up in Los Angeles amongst the next generation of Soundcloud artists. Her music is a melting pot of these cultures and influences. On her recent PERCEPTION EP, she includes drum n bass-inspired beats on songs like "Happy;" her breakout single, "SAD B!TCH," border on cloud rap with their ethereal mixing; her recent single, "sunset blvd" incorporates the croons of emo rap. CLIP has already become a rising star without releasing a single full-length project. 

Her voice is soft and melodic like Babyxsosa and her production matches the mild psychedelia of Hook’s use of filter. CLIP incorporates the downtempo eeriness of Houston chopped-and -screw tapes, drowning out her own braggadocio through internet-coded soundscapes.

TiaCorine

Hailing from Winston-Salem, North Carolina, TiaCorine has the swagger of a Gangsta Boo, coloring her lyrics with braggadocio and slick, staccato phrasing. Her instrumentation is wavy and pompous, featuring warped 808s and the glossy sparkle of xylophones and high-pitched synths.

TiaCorine stands out for the way she meshes her Southern cadence with disjointed, bubblegum beats,  drum machine hi-hats and Jersey club-style kicks. She’s erratic yet sweet; she’s cutesy like pluggNB yet arrogant like JT and Yung Miami.

Vayda 

Compared to Hook or CLIP or Babyxsosa, Vayda would be their prodigal child of the forthcoming generation of digital media consumers, aiming for an even more stimulating derivative of industrial hip-hop: hyperrap. Vayda creates starkly genreless hip-hop, jumping from Jersey club to sample-based beats to trap hi-hats for short, digestible tracks typically landing at under 90 seconds. Her music is uptempo and comes in waves of focused attention, etched with sporadic bass drum kicks similar to Evilgiane’s in SURF GANG and Cash Cobain’s hyper focused, sample drill 808 patterns.

Vayda isn’t concerned with regionalism and having a sound attributable to any one place. Her beats sparkle and shimmer, they dash like bodies towards the DJ at a club, and Vayda is at the forefront, leading the new school.

Doechii

Akin to the Southern, tongue-twisting legend Young Thug, Doechii’s vocal inflections twist and contort, wringing out sonically and lyrically emotive verses. For the Tampa-born artist's stuffy intonation squirms in your ear on tracks such as "Stressed," and genuinely evoke the emotion. 

Alongside labelmates Isaiah Rashad and SZA at TDE, Doechii stretches her syllables for zig-zagging hooks against everything from double-time drums on "Crazy" to dancehall on "Persuasive."

Bktherula

Bktherula is hip-hop’s response to grunge and punk rock. Her aesthetic varies from neon colored braids to skull tees, each in a slightly different shade of black. The Atlanta rapper references punk's yearning screams and whispers in her own groaned melodies on songs such as "Tweakin’ Together" and "FOREVER, PT. 2 (JEZEBEL)."

On tracks such as "TAN," however, that Bktherula’s music matches the aggression of punk, using warbling synthesizers and arcade-sounding, drive-heavy snare. Bktherula flexes, showcasing not only technique but preemptively taunting anyone with the audacity to diss her.

Ice Spice 

Last but certainly not least is America’s most talked about drill rapper since Pop Smoke (RIP). Arriving from the Bronx, Ice Spice became popular after coining the term "munch," referring to selfless, sexually-pleasing men. Her sex appeal, her gospel of female empowerment and her creative free-spirit enabled by SpongeBob SquarePants samples and Zedd flips, puts Ice Spice as the queen of virality in 2023.  

How is she wielding her superstardom? With now-refined drill beats, melodic collaborations with UK-sensation PinkPantheress, and working with some of the most influential women in hip-hop from New York — including her idol-turned-peer, Nicki Minaj.

Ladies First: 10 Essential Albums By Female Rappers

In 2003, OutKast scored their second No. 1 hit with "Hey Ya!" The timeless track has an upbeat energy that makes you want to shake it like a polaroid picture — until you happen to catch its rather unhappy lyrics.

"Are we so in denial when we know we're not happy here?" André 3000 sings on the second verse. The line that follows may sum up its contrasting nature: "Y'all don't wanna hear me, you just wanna dance."

The ability to make listeners feel (and physically react) to a wide range of emotions is part of the genius of songwriting. Tunes like "Hey Ya!" — a sad narrative disguised by an infectious melody — is one trick that has been mastered by Outkast, R.E.M., Smokey Robinson, Robyn and many more. 

If you've ever happily boogied to a beat before realizing that the lyrics on top are actually a big bummer, you're certainly not alone. BBC and Apple Music both call such tracks Sad Bangers, a fitting name for what's become an unofficial genre over the past half-century. 

In light of Mental Health Awareness Month this May, GRAMMY.com compiled a list of 15 songs that will both get you in your feelings and get your body moving. 

Smokey Robinson & The Miracles — "The Tears of a Clown" (1967)

The upbeat music on this Motown classic was written by Stevie Wonder, a 25-time GRAMMY winner who is deft at crafting tearjerkers that will tease your body into joyful dancing. The bassoon-bottomed song registers at 128 beats per minute, a tempo that's still favored by modern dance music producers. So when Smokey sings, "The tears of a clown/When there's no one around," you'd be forgiven for also welling up just a little bit while you're in the groove.

Gloria Gaynor — "Never Can Say Goodbye" (1975)

Gloria Gaynor reimagined the Jackson 5's 1971 pop hit "Never Can Say Goodbye" for the disco era. The sweeping string arrangements and trotting beat helped to fill dance floors, and to make the poignant song about holding onto a love of her own. Other cover versions by Isaac Hayes and the Communards also capture the contradictory vibe.

Tears For Fears — "Mad World" (1983)

British duo Tears For Fears became internationally known after outfitting their first danceable hit with a depressing and dramatic chorus that's hard to shake even 40 years after its release: "I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad, the dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had." Roland Orzabal and Curt Smith would later release more uplifting fare, such as "Everybody Wants to Rule The World" and "Sowing the Seeds of Love."

Kate Bush — "Running Up That Hill" (1985)

Kate Bush has had three twirls through charts around the world with "Running Up That Hill," beginning with its 1985 release and then as an unlikely Summer Olympics closing ceremony song in 2012.

"And if I only could, I'd make a deal with God/And I'd get him to swap our places/Be running up that road/be running up that hill/With no problems," she sings in the chorus of the racing track, longing to be more worry-free.

More recently, a placement in the Netflix drama Stranger Things in 2022 earned the weepy, minor key-led dance number a whole new generation of fans. The English artist was recently named a 2023 Rock & Roll Hall of Fame inductee.

Midnight Oil — "Beds Are Burning" (1988)

Midnight Oil lead singer Peter Garrett channeled the rage he felt from early climate change and the lack of Aboriginal land rights in the Australian Outback into "Beds Are Burning." The powerful dance tune flooded airwaves and dance floors around the world in the late '80s, reaching No. 17 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart.

"How can we dance when the Earth is turning?" he sings in the rousing chorus. "How do we sleep while the beds are burning?"

Garrett clearly had a personal connection to the song's yearning message: He later dedicated his life to environmental activism as the leader of the Australian Conservation Foundation, and became an elected Member of Australia's House of Representatives.

Crystal Waters — "Gypsy Woman (She's Homeless)" (1991)

A house music hit about a woman without a home, "Gypsy Woman (She's Homeless)" helped New Jersey singer Crystal Waters achieve international success despite a somewhat somber subject. A subsequent parody on the sketch comedy series "In Living Color" drew attention to the contrast of having happy and upbeat instrumentation with dispiriting lyrics.

"She's just like you and me/But she's homeless, she's homeless," rings the chorus. "As she stands there singing for money/La da dee la dee da…"

R.E.M. — "Shiny Happy People" (1991)

This upbeat collaboration is between rock group R.E.M. and B-52's singer Kate Pierson.The jangly guitar pop makes you want to clap your hands and stomp your feet, but the lyrics make you question if everything is indeed quite so shiny and happy.

The song is rumored to be about the massacre in China's Tiananmen Square, because the phrase "Shiny Happy People" appeared on propaganda posters. Pierson isn't so sure about that, though.

"I can't imagine that R.E.M. was thinking at the time, Oh, we want this song to be about Chinese government propaganda," she said in a 2021 interview with Vulture. "It was supposed to be shiny and happy. It was a positive thing all-around."

TLC — "Waterfalls" (1994)

"Waterfalls" was a worldwide hit for TLC in 1994, thanks to its sing-along chorus and funky bassline. The song's insistent bounce softens a firm lyrical warning that pulls people back from the edge: "Don't go chasing waterfalls/Please stick to the rivers and the lakes that you're used to/I know that you're gonna have it your way or nothing at all/But I think you're moving too fast."

"We wanted to make a song with a strong message — about unprotected sex, being promiscuous, and hanging out in the wrong crowd," Rozonda "Chilli" Thomas shared with The Guardian in 2018. "The messages in 'Waterfalls' hit home. I think that's why it's our biggest hit to date."

Outkast — "Hey Ya!" (2003)

André 3000 sings about loveless relationships to a whimsical, time-shifting dance beat on this Billboard Hot 100 chart-topping smash. The seriousness of the song — which André 3000 once explained is about "the state of relationships in the 2000s" — got lost among many listeners.*

Its unhappy lyrics were masked by André's peppy singing, as well as the song's jangly guitar and keyboard-led groove, which infectiously doubles up in speed at the end of every four beats. Even Outkast themselves couldn't help acknowledging the song's juxtaposition in a 2021 tweet.

Robyn — "Dancing On My Own" (2010)

A penultimate example of a sad banger is "Dancing On My Own" by Swedish pop star Robyn. The rueful song — a top 10 hit in multiple countries — commands you to shake your stuff, while also picturing yourself watching your ex move on at the club. Calum Scott's 2016 cover really brings out the sadness that can be obscured by Robyn's uptempo version.

"Said, I'm in the corner, watching you kiss her, oh no/And I'm right over here, why can't you see me?" Robyn sings in the chorus. "And I'm giving it my all/ But I'm not the girl you're taking home."

Fun. — "Some Nights" (2012)

fun. (the trio of Jack Antonoff, Andrew Dost and Nate Ruess) is best known for the zeitgeist-grabbing pop-rock power ballad "We Are Young," which is about the relentlessly positive enthusiasm of youth out on the town. The title track to their 2012 album Some Nights (which contains "We Are Young") is a much dancier, yet sadder song.

"What do I stand for?" Ruess asks as your feet shuffle along to the beat. "Most nights, I don't know anymore."

Avicii — "Wake Me Up" (2013)

Avicii collaborated with soulful pop singer Aloe Blacc for this worldwide chart-topper that is considered one of EDM's peak anthems. The slapping beat masks the track's sad, self-reflective lyrics about being lost.

The Swedish DJ/producer's 2018 death by suicide adds an even heavier air to Blacc's impassioned chorus: "So wake me up when it's all over/When I'm wiser and I'm older/All this time I was finding myself, and I/I didn't know I was lost."

Flume featuring Kai — "Never Be Like You" (2015)

"Never Be Like You" isn't the fastest cut in Australian DJ/producer Flume's bass-heavy discography, but the wispy track still has an irresistible bump to it. Canadian singer Kai begs her lover not to leave her ("How do I make you wanna stay?"), but her lovely tone still manages to keep the song hopeful.

FKA twigs featuring The Weekend — "Tears In The Club" (2022)

Perhaps the most overt selection of this entire list is "Tears In The Club," which finds FKA twigs and The Weeknd taking to the dancefloor to shake off the vestiges of a bad relationship. The singer/dancer has been candid about being in an abusive relationship, and the song is a lowkey bop that's buoyed by despairing chants such as, "I might die on the beat, love."

Everything But The Girl — "Nothing Left to Lose" (2023)

Nearly 30 years after DJ/producer Todd Terry helped introduce Everything But the Girl to the international dance music community with a remix of "Missing," the duo leaned into their electronic side on "Nothing Left to Lose." A single from their first album in 24 years, Fuse, "Nothing Left to Lose" features a squelching electronic bassline that contrasts the song's helpless yearning.

"I need a thicker skin/ This pain keeps getting in/ Tell me what to do/ 'Cause I've always listened to you," the pair's Tracy Thorne sings on the opening verse. Later, she makes a demand that fittingly sums up the conflicts of a quintessential sad banger: "Kiss me while the world decays."

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Kali Uchis knows how to make her fantasies a reality. Pushing aside others' skepticism early in her career, the singer/songwriter blithely traverses progressive R&B, neo soul, and Latin pop with allure. Following a mixtape and handful of EPs, Uchis' breakthrough debut album Isolation showcased her spectacular dynamism and embrace of risk, charting within the Billboard Top 40 in 2018.

Since, Uchis has continued to connect with her audiences on even grander scales. Her genre-bending music, especially on her 2020 album Sin Miedo (del Amor y Otros Demonios), champions the importance of staying true to oneself. She's remained refreshingly lucid and intentional with her artistry — and her most recent project takes the shape of divine freedom.

On her recently released Red Moon In Venus, Uchis invites us into her secret garden. Inside, femininity reigns supreme, its potency and power concealed by an irresistible pearly glamor.

In honor of the GRAMMY-winning musician's latest lush record and upcoming tour — which begins in Austin, Texas in April — tune into these nine Kali Uchis essentials, and soak up her divine style and versatility.

"Melting," Por Vida (2015)

Although the song's title refers to ice cream, Uchis laces "Melting" with a sweet, mellow warmth. It paints the honeymoon stages of a relationship in pink shades; you can picture blushing cheeks, fawning eyes, and shared smiles between lovers.

The track comes from Uchis' debut EP, exemplary of the power of the singer's reflective, rosy whimsy at an early point in her career. The EP melds R&B, soul and dream pop, and "Melting" twirls with affection and comfort — encapsulating the soft serenity that Uchis continues to embrace today.

"El Ratico" with Juanes, Mis Planes Son Amarte (2017)

"Se acabó el ratico, aquí está el anillo," Juanes and Uchis sing on "El Ratico," which translates to "Time's up, here's the ring."

The high-profile duet, which was also nominated for a Latin GRAMMY for Record Of The Year, is an ode to the lost time in a relationship. The Colombian singers are in harmony as they detail sleepless nights filled with tossing and turning, blue skies turning gray. The song's use of popular Colombian rhythms serve Uchis well, further showcasing her effortless versatility.

"Your Teeth In My Neck," Isolation (2018)

Based on its title, one might anticipate "Your Teeth In My Neck" to be a twisted love song of sorts. The track, however, sees Uchis aim frustration at wealthy corporations for exploiting immigrants and working class families. From an immigrant family from Pereira, Colombia, Uchis understands the dangers of hustle culture and prioritizing productivity above all else.

"Rich man keeps getting richer, taking from the poor," she sings. "You gotta get right, 'cause you know better…" She repeats the last clause nonchalantly, pleasantly in theme with Isolation's groovy serenity, but its repetition reminds listeners of the song's rightfully accusatory nature.

"After The Storm" ​​feat. Tyler, The Creator and Bootsy Collins, Isolation (2018)

Optimism looks good on Uchis. "Someday we'll find the love, 'cause after the storm's when the flowers bloom," she sings, reminding listeners there's always love to be found. Aided by a clean-cut rap verse from Tyler, the Creator, the track also gets a funky boost from Bootsy Collins' satisfying karma-themed ad libs.

Longing pulses through the song's breezy psychedelia, and its desire-filled serenity will have you listening on repeat. "After The Storm" is exemplary for the way Uchis naturally fuses funk and R&B with her own contemporary twist — a trademark of Isolation's fluidly experimental soundscape. 

"10%" with KAYTRANADA, BUBBA (2019)

A year before dropping Sin Miedo, Uchis joined forces with Canadian electronic producer KAYTRANADA on their song "10%," which was released as the lead single off his GRAMMY-winning album BUBBA.

A thematic parallel to "Your Teeth In My Neck," Uchis questions, "You keep on takin' from me, but where's my ten percent?" KAYTRANADA's adventurous beat  propels Uchis' voice forward without distracting from her, and the shiny, club-ready collaboration won Best Dance Recording at the 2021 GRAMMYs.

"Dead To Me," Isolation (2018)

With striking trumpeting horns opening this track, Uchis wants all eyes on her for a very important announcement.

"You're dead to me," she drawls, then quickening her flow for a demand: "You're obsessed, just let me go." You can almost imagine her rolling her eyes in someone's face, then turning and clicking away in heels.

One of Uchis' signature tracks, "Dead To Me" is the perfect encapsulation of indifference toward the past. Even though it's from 2018, the song's contemporary sheen and cherished brashness proved that Uchis isn't just ahead of her time — she's timeless.

"Fue Mejor" feat. SZA, Sin Miedo (Deluxe) (2020)

"Fue Mejor" begins with the rev of a car engine, and it's clear that Uchis is in the driver's seat. On this remixed track from her sophomore's deluxe, she hits the gas pedal with steamy, smoke-ring R&B. "Take a little sip, take a little puff," Uchis invites without hesitation. 

SZA rides shotgun for the collaboration (well, in the music video, she's on top of a moving car, but beside that). The singer fits into the track like a missing puzzle piece, her vocals brilliantly matching Uchis' soulful, sultry tone.

"telepatía," Sin Miedo (del Amor y Otros Demonios) (2020)

One of Uchis' biggest hits for good reason, "telepatía" is a lucid dream come true. It dissolves into your consciousness like sugar, enamoring with a controlled, intense passion. Singing in Spanish and English, Uchis flutters over a groovy but placid synth with ease — and when Uchis sings "I can read your mind," you believe her without a second thought.

The song comes off of Sin Miedo, which is Uchis' first album predominantly in Spanish and was nominated for Best Música Urbana Album at the 2022 GRAMMYs. The track also made Uchis the first female soloist to hit No. 1 on Billboard's Hot Latin Songs Chart in nearly a decade, defeating the 27-week top-spot reign of Bad Bunny and Jhay Cortez’s global hit “Dákiti." 

"I Wish you Roses," Red Moon In Venus (2023)

Tapping into an especially bewitching atmosphere, "I Wish you Roses" is one of Uchis' most infatuating songs and the first single from her 2023 release.

While album opener "in My Garden" whispers and whirs, bristling with hopeful suspense, "I Wish you Roses" meets the anticipation with perfect extravagance. Romance flourishes amid sleek instrumentals, crafting a luxurious and beautifully overgrown fantasy. 

Uchis wishes an ex-lover roses with earnestness, and you can feel her ecstasy in letting go — though, in true Kali fashion, she reminds them that "You're gonna want me back" casually in the outro.

Kali Uchis On What It Means To Be A Latin "Crossover" Star In The 21st Century

British alt electro trio London Grammar have been putting out emotive records that perfectly straddle the worlds of cinematic alternative, ala Florence + The Machine, and moody dance music, with big name DJ remixes and collabs a major part of their catalog. This is in a big part due to frontwoman Hannah Reid, whose haunting voice can soar over and weave into seemingly any beat, evoking strength and tenderness in a single breath.

Reid met guitarist Dan Rothman in 2009 in college, who recognized her talent off the bat and pushed her to perform. Keyboardist and drummer Dot Major joined a year later, and after finished school, the trio moved to London, where Reid and Rothman are originally from. As soon as they began releasing music, London Grammar made waves.

Back in 2013, they landed the closing feature on Disclosure's massive dance chart topping debut album, Settle, bookended by the release of their debut single, "Metal & Dust" and LP, If You Wait. That year was peak moment for both alt/indie bands and euphoric dance music, and they not both fit in perfectly with the current sounds, they also offered a unique fluidity between them that has allowed them to continue to sound fresh and exciting.

In 2017, they dropped their sophomore album, Truth Is a Beautiful Thing, but the persistent, grating sexism she faced within the music industry was forcing Reid to seriously consider if she could stay in it. 2019 brough another massive dance collab, "Let You Know" from Flume, which Reid shares they wrote during a very dark time for her.

Yet in August 2020, amidst the unpresented global shutdown, London Grammar returned with the euphoric summer love jam, "Baby It's You," the lead single to their new album, Californian Soil, released today, April 16. The powerful, deeply emotive project is not only a musical triumph for the band, it is the result of a healing journey for Reid, who used it to channel her anger and frustration and find strength and power in the process.

Shortly ahead of its release, GRAMMY.com caught up with Reid over the phone to learn more about the emotions behind the new album, stepping into her role as bandleader, her experience with sexism in the industry, and more.

The third London Grammar album comes out soon. What does California represent to you?

California, to me—basically those lyrics just came out when I heard the music. Dan [Rothman] in the band had this guitar loop with that beat on it, and it just evokes those lyrics and that imagery. I do think that California has this kind of mysticism to it.

It's a place built on this extraordinary landscape. It's got a lot of layers to it and that's why people do write about it a lot. It seems to be on the tip of everyone's tongue and I don't really know why, but it's such a beautiful word as well. It's one of those words in the English language that just is really beautiful in itself and makes you feel things.

Why did you choose "Californian Soil" as the title track of the album and how does it point to the rest of what's explored on the album?

It's funny, when I said that I wanted the album to be called Californian Soil, everyone was like, "That doesn't make any sense, you're called London Grammar. People will just get confused. You're not from California." And I was like, that just makes it even more amazing, even more reason to have that as the album title.

It was also one of the first songs that we wrote in the process [of making the album], the first two songs were "America" and "Californian Soil." That's why the album is bookended by those two songs.

Those songs mean so much to me because before writing those songs, I wasn't in the best place. I wasn't really sure if I could do this anymore for a living. And then we wrote these two songs, and I loved them so much. And it felt appropriate then to either name the album America or Californian Soil.

Listening to the album, I definitely feel a lot of emotions, there're a lot of tracks and themes on it that really grab you. For you, while you were working on the project, what sort of emotions were you tapping into?

It was very emotionally intense for me, definitely as emotionally intense as the first album, which I think is a good sign. The emotions I felt, I mean, I started off in quite a negative place and then I feel like this album healed me in a way. So, there's definitely light and shade emotionally on there. It has love songs that are very personal to me. And it also has a lot of darkness on there, which is obviously something that London Grammar does have usually. And a lot of anger, I was quite angry when we started.

I wanted to talk a little bit more about what it felt like for you stepping into the role of the leader of London Grammar on this album. And I know you mentioned that you were in a dark place when you started, did you feel like stepping into that role and claiming that space helped you move through those emotions?

Yeah, I think it did. I think that for me, it was a little bit of a now or never moment. I felt like I just wasn't or hadn't done a very good job, I wasn't fulfilled by my role.

Obviously, being a woman in the music industry, it's been harder for me sometimes to be respected by certain characters, not necessarily my bandmates, but people external to us. And I felt like, if we're going to have longevity, this needs to stop happening. I can't feel this way because it's so draining.

And in order for that to change, people have to know that I'm the leader of the band when we step into the room. Even if the music is then made in a democratic way, the lyrics are mine, a lot of the songs are mine and it is my story. And the boys just completely understood that and we agreed. I think they felt sad for me that I had felt the way that I had felt. And I don't know, maybe I hadn't made it that clear to them at times.

On this project, what did the songwriting and collaborative process generally look like with you and the band?

It started off in a very intimate way, which, again, is actually how the first album was made. A lot of the songs were written in pairs, so it was just either me and Dan, or Dan and Dot, or me and Dot. And we basically built up an album of demos. We had a lot of demos, a lot of material. And then it was only at the very end of the process that—it was actually our A&R who sent a couple of the songs to George FitzGerald.

It's funny, it's one of those moments, [our A&R] actually did it without fully telling me he was going to do it. And I was really annoyed. And then he played me the songs and I was like, "No, they sound really good." So, we sent the parts to George FitzGerald and he added some magic on a couple of songs. And then, also at the end of the process, I did a writing session with Steve Mac, which was quite scary, but turned out really great. But essentially, 90 percent of it was made by us three alone.

And how do you feel bringing on the co-producers for a couple of tracks, George and Steve and Charlie [Andrew], how do you feel like that shifted the sonics versus your other projects?

To be honest, and this is in no way a disservice to the people that were involved, but I think what was great is that we had a lot of the sound already there, we weren't trying to find a sound through going into studios with other people.

I think for us as a band, that was quite key. And then what it was about with getting, with George and Charlie, they had a production role, it was about adding a bit of magic and tying together some loose ends. Charlie rerecorded my vocal on a couple of songs and he rerecorded some of the guitar parts and stuff.

With Steve, it was more of a writing thing, which is a whole other interesting process because I actually have had a lot of very unsuccessful writing sessions in the past. So, I was nervous to do that, but he was really lovely and I really loved working with him.

I just love the euphoric, summary vibes of "Baby It's You." I know that came out last year, but now that it's spring here in L.A., I'm vibing with it again. What was the inspiration for it?

Exactly. We wrote that song, I think, in the summertime and it is about summer and being at festivals. And it's quite a meaningful song, again. It is a love song, it's about finding yourself.

I'm really glad you say that because I think that's actually quite an important part of music sometimes, the weather, and I don't think it's something to be dismissed. And I hope that with the album coming out there are those summery euphoric moments, and I hope that this summer will be a bit more hopeful and people will therefore connect with the music.

I also love "Lord It's a Feeling"—it just really feels raw and powerful, with heartbreak and those difficult emotions. What did it feel like for you writing about that in a direct, honest way?

That was quite a scary one actually. And I think you can hear it, because I swear in that song and, wow, I suddenly get a bit quiet because I don't think I've ever done that before. Obviously, I personally connect to those lyrics as well, and what's hard sometimes about being a songwriter is you don't want anything to be revengeful, but sometimes that's a real emotion too. I just feel like, unfortunately, that's the price you pay as an artist. I wanted to just be honest about the experience that I've had in the past, but also that some of my girlfriends have had too.

And when you were recording it and singing it, what did it feel like for you?

It felt very cathartic, it did feel really good. I feel like sometimes I, as a woman in music industry, I've been a bit discouraged from expressing anger and I just didn't like that. And I think it's such an important part of this album for me. It doesn't have to be a negative thing. I don't think like that at all.

"It felt very cathartic... As a woman in music industry, I've been a bit discouraged from expressing anger and I just didn't like that. I think it's such an important part of this album for me."

It's so true. I think women generally are discouraged from being angry. So, it's really powerful to hear and feel those emotions in music. If you feel comfortable sharing, what are some ways you've been pushed away from being honest in the industry, or from releasing certain songs?

Yeah, sure. I mean, it's funny when I first started talking about this in interviews, specifically the [February 2021] NME one, I shared the funny stories that had happened, the more lighthearted ones; the [more] sexist things that happened, I didn't actually share. Because I felt, I don't know, scared to really say what the experience was like.

There are women in the music industry who have experienced far worse than me, of course. But it was an absolute daily battle that I was not prepared for. And at the start of our career, we were surrounded by different people, we work with different people now. And I just felt it extremely profoundly, they did things like we didn't really have full access to even our schedule. And when I asked to see the schedule, I wasn't sent it. And I mean, that happens to young artists no matter who you are, but there was a lot of stuff like that.

Things weren't transparent, let's put it that way, no matter whether it was the scheduling or financially, with deals and stuff like that. And I remember asking nicely and that not working and then becoming a bit more frustrated and then feeling very put in my place.

And when it became a real issue and I became really angry, like, "I want to see my own schedule!" and of course, things were getting booked left, right and center that we weren't approving. I just had the most profound experience that I was treated like I was being absolutely irrational. We didn't have the control that we needed at the start of our career, and on top of that, battling for that control.

I remember specifically there was one person in particular who we worked with. If we were going to speak to them, I would have to get Dot to speak to this person because I knew I couldn't communicate with this person at all. Again, that's one example, but being on the road was hard, and walking into studios when it being assumed that I was not really a musician, even if I wrote the song.

That was quite a funny one because I'm like, literally there is nothing else I could do to prove that I am a musician when we're working on the song that I've actually written. But it was kind of death by a thousand cuts, those little experiences amounted to actually something that was really tough. And now I feel like I can speak about it and I don't want to dwell on the negativity. I hope that I've turned that negativity into something more positive, which is an album and feeling strong in that.

Switching gears a bit, your 2019 collab with Flume, "Let You Know," was massive. What was it like working with him?

It was really great. He was over in London and he's a friend, he's a really great guy. So it was very easy. Again, when we did that collab, I wasn't in the best place. I think my confidence was really low. So, I'm glad that it was with someone who was so nice. He was quite patient while we were finishing the song. And I'm a massive Flume fan. It was definitely a "pinch me" moment for sure.

What did you feel like when it was released?

I felt really excited and just like, "I wonder how this will go down." With Spotify, it's sometimes kind of hard to tell how something's actually being received. I performed the song with him when he did a show in London and I think that was really when I felt it the most. I was like, "Oh, this is just so great."

Was everyone singing along?

Yeah, they were. And it was also really fun because it wasn't a London Grammar gig, I went out and I did one song. It was just like walking into a party for five minutes and then leaving.

I was wondering if we could hear a little bit about your path into the music industry? When did you first start performing and making music, and at what point did you start thinking about it as something that you would pursue professionally?

So, I was always writing songs and singing, but I am a deeply creative person, so I never considered that you really even could do it for a career. And I didn't really understand what the music industry was.

It was only when I met Dan, before we met Dot, where he was like, "Oh, you're really good. We're going to do a gig." And "I booked it in and it's next week and we're going to do it." And I was like, "Oh, okay. I'm really scared and I don't know how I feel about this." And then it was a bit like that every step of the way. When we then signed a record deal, I was like, okay, I guess this is happening. I don't really know what just happened, but I guess I'll just go with it.

And it's probably with this third album, so it's taken me this long to be like, actually, this is a career. And asking myself "How do I want this career to look?" Because yes, I'm very creative, but I do think they are important questions because then you don't get taken advantage of, when you know exactly what it is that you want. And probably only now, do I really understand that.

And do you remember how old you were when you first started writing music, and what you were writing about?

Yeah. I mean, just so many boys who just really upset me when I was really young. I remember my first songs that I wrote when I was 11, 12, 13, just those painful angsty teenage songs, which, really, a lot of that was on the first album. But my mum does say that I was making up songs when I was like four, five, six. I don't really remember, but apparently I was.

Kali Uchis On What It Means To Be A Latin "Crossover" Star In The 21st Century