Q: Can you tell us a bit about yourself and how your childhood impacted your musical direction?
A: Music has been woven into my life for as long as I can remember. I started playing piano at eight years old, and it quickly became the place where I felt most at home. I studied music all the way through high school — it was one of my matric subjects — and earning a distinction in my final exam felt like a quiet confirmation that this was more than just a hobby.
I was always that kid who lived in the music room: singing in the choir, performing in school musicals (sometimes in the lead role), and writing little pieces of my own. One of my proudest early memories was having my first composition — a piano solo called “Athena” — performed at my high school’s music concert when I was in grade 8. That moment made something click for me.
At home, music was just as present. My brother and I were obsessed with “Somewhere Out There” from An American Tail, and we’d perform it for family, and once even for an audience at the local library. Looking back, that mix of playfulness, emotion, and storytelling is still at the heart of what I do today.
I grew up listening to everything from Elton John to 80s and 90s power ballads — Bonnie Tyler, Whitney Houston, Celine Dion, Mariah Carey — alongside the alt‑pop of Foreigner and A‑ha, and the romantic sweep of classical music. That wide spectrum shaped me. It taught me that music isn’t really about genre; it’s about feeling. And that’s still how I create — by chasing emotion first, and letting the sound follow.
Q: How are you planning on growing your fan base and sharing your music with the world? What message do you have for anyone who is about to discover “jclr;”?
A: My plan for growing my fan base is rooted in authenticity and emotional honesty. I’m not trying to build an audience through gimmicks or trends — I want to build a community of people who connect with the feelings behind the music. Social media, especially reels, has become a surprisingly powerful space for that. It allows me to share small pieces of my world, my process, and my heart in a way that feels real and human.
I’m also committed to releasing music consistently. Every song I put out is another piece of the story, another moment of connection, another chance for someone to feel seen or understood. I think people gravitate toward artists who show up with intention, vulnerability, and a sense of purpose, and that’s the energy I want to bring into everything I release.
For anyone discovering “jclr;” for the first time: my music is an invitation. I want you to feel seen, understood, uplifted, comforted, challenged, and inspired — sometimes all at once. My message is simple: your truth deserves to exist in sound. If my songs can help you feel a little less alone in your own story, then I’m doing what I’m meant to do.
Q: Who is the most inspiring artist for you right now? And where do you find inspiration for making music?
A: It’s hard for me to narrow it down to just one artist, because I’m most inspired by queer creators who have managed to break through social expectations while staying completely true to themselves. Artists like Troye Sivan, Sam Smith, Adam Lambert, Calum Scott, and of course Elton John have all shown that authenticity isn’t just powerful — it’s transformative. They’ve each carved out space in their own way, and seeing them thrive while being unapologetically themselves gives me permission to do the same.
My inspiration comes from a mix of my own lived experiences and the stories of people close to me. A lot of it is rooted in queer identity, self‑discovery, and the emotional complexity that comes with learning who you are in a world that doesn’t always make that easy. I’m drawn to cinematic storytelling — the kind of music that feels like a scene from a film, where emotion leads the way and the sound follows.
At the end of the day, I write to make sense of my own feelings and to create something that might help someone else feel seen in theirs. That’s where the heart of my music lives.
Q: Can you tell us about the story or message behind the song, “Not so Secret Anymore.”?
A: “Not So Secret Anymore” is rooted in that very specific moment when a quiet crush becomes impossible to hide — when the feelings you’ve been carrying so carefully finally spill into the light. It’s about the sweetness of admitting what you feel, the vulnerability of saying it out loud, and the rush of relief when you realise the other person felt the same way all along.
The song blends personal truth with a universal queer experience: that delicate dance between fear and hope, between wanting to stay hidden and wanting to be seen. So many queer people know what it’s like to hold their feelings close, to test the waters gently, to wonder if the connection they’re feeling is real.
For me, the heart of the song is that moment of courage — the soft, trembling bravery of letting someone in. It’s tender, it’s hopeful, and it celebrates the quiet magic of two people finally meeting each other in the same truth.
Q: How would you describe your sound in one word for potential listeners?
A: One word? Cinematic.
My music is built around emotion and storytelling — the kind of sound that feels like a moment from a film, where the feeling leads the way.
Q: Did you face any challenges while writing or recording “Not so Secret Anymore”?
A: Absolutely! The biggest challenge was writing something tender without letting it tip into melodrama. The song lives in that delicate space between vulnerability and restraint, and I rewrote sections more times than I can count just to make sure the emotional arc felt honest. I wanted it to feel soft, hopeful, and quietly brave — not heavy‑handed.
On the technical side, venturing into country‑pop was a whole new world for me. It’s not a genre I had much experience with, so finding the right balance was a real challenge. I didn’t want it to sound generic, and I didn’t want the production to overpower the vulnerability and softness of the vocals. Getting the arrangement to feel warm, intimate, and still polished took a lot of experimentation.
But honestly, I loved the challenge. It pushed me to grow, to listen differently, and to trust the emotional truth of the song. In the end, that process made the track what it is.
Q: What is the message of your music? And what are your goals as an artist?
A: At the heart of my music is a simple message: you’re not alone in what you feel. I want people to know that identity is something to be embraced, not hidden, and that queer stories deserve space, softness, and celebration. Music has always been the place where I could finally breathe, and I hope my songs can offer that same sense of release and recognition to anyone who needs it.
As an artist, my goal is to build a community where people feel safe, understood, and emotionally connected — a space where vulnerability isn’t something to fear, but something to honour. I want to create emotionally cinematic music that resonates deeply, the kind of songs that feel like they’re holding your hand through whatever you’re going through.
I’m committed to growing my fanbase through authenticity and consistency, showing up with honesty in every release. And I want to keep evolving sonically, exploring new genres and new emotional landscapes without losing the core of who I am. If my music can help someone feel seen in their own truth, then I’m doing exactly what I’m meant to do.
Q: Who is your dream artist to collaborate with? (dead or alive)
A: If I could collaborate with anyone, I’d choose Pyotr Tchaikovsky. He was a queer trailblazer in a time when living openly wasn’t an option, yet his music is overflowing with emotion, longing, and cinematic beauty. He was an absolute master of melody — the kind of composer who could capture an entire universe of feeling in a single phrase.
There’s something incredibly powerful about the idea of blending his sweeping romanticism with modern pop storytelling. In many ways, his work shaped the emotional language of music long before any of us arrived. To create something alongside a mind like that — someone who understood both the weight and the liberation of feeling deeply — would be extraordinary.
Q: What is your advice for people interested in pursuing music as a career or for those trying to enter the industry?
A: My biggest advice is to lead with authenticity, but back it up with consistency and resilience. The industry can be overwhelming, and it’s easy to get caught up in comparison or feel pressure to fit into whatever is trending. But the truth is, your greatest strength is the part of you that no one else can replicate. Hold onto that.
At the same time, be prepared to work — really work. Show up for your craft even on the days when inspiration is quiet. Learn the skills, experiment, fail forward, and keep releasing. Consistency builds trust, both with yourself and with the people who will eventually become your audience.
And don’t underestimate the power of community. Surround yourself with people who understand your passion, who challenge you, and who make you feel safe enough to grow. Music is deeply personal, but it’s also something we build together.
If you can stay true to who you are while staying open to learning and evolving, you’ll find your path — and your people.
Q: If you could go back in time and give a younger you some words of wisdom, what would they be?
A: I think I’d tell my younger self: you are not too much, and you are not too little — you are exactly who you’re meant to be. The things you’re afraid make you “different” will one day become your strength, your voice, and your art.
I’d remind them that identity is not something to apologise for or shrink to make others comfortable. The feelings that seem overwhelming now will eventually become melodies, lyrics, and stories that help other people feel less alone.
Most of all, I’d tell them to be patient and gentle with themselves. You don’t have to have everything figured out at once. Keep listening to that quiet inner voice — it’s leading you somewhere beautiful.
