Tag: representation

Spotify Uplifts Bold, Emerging Artists in Honor of Asian and Pacific Islander Heritage Month

Around the world, Asian and Pacific Islander (API) artists continue to impact music culture at large, extending far beyond K-Pop. As a whole, global interest in music from Asia is on the rise, including emerging subgenres such as Gacha Pop, Pinoy hip-hop, T-Pop, and Punjabi music. In the U.S. and Canada specifically, API stars are rising on Spotify. And this May, during Asian and Pacific Islander Heritage Month (APIHM), Spotify is celebrating and supporting the diverse community of artists and genres that extends across the diaspora.

API voices at full volume

Year-round, we amplify the work of talented API creators across the audio landscape through our Asian & Pacific Islander hub on Spotify. This month, under our campaign theme of “Sound Up. Stand Out,” we’ve refreshed the hub with new content. For music lovers, a great place to start exploring is Jasmine, our global flagship playlist featuring emerging API artists from around the world. For podcast fans, the hub includes a selection of shows and episodes from the API community. An audiobook shelf also features a range of titles across fiction, nonfiction, memoirs, and more.

Spotlighting up-and-coming artists

In recent years, Spotify has seen and supported massive growth in listenership for API artists like producer-DJ-vocalist Peggy Gou, jazz crooner Laufey, and indie rock star Mitski, to name a few.

This year, to amplify the next wave of API artists to watch, we’ve once again partnered with Gold House, the premier nonprofit collective of API leaders, on our Gold House Futures Music Accelerator program. This initiative aims to uplift API artists by providing them with opportunities to take their careers to the next level—and it’s working. Just last month, Futures alum thuy made history as the first Vietnamese American artist to perform at Coachella.

The 2024 class includes Chinese American pop queen Emei, Indian American singer-songwriter Paravi, and British Filipino rockstar Towa Bird. As participants in the Gold House Futures Music Guild, these artists recorded a new trio of Spotify Singles dropping May 15. They’ll also gain access to Spotify’s masterclasses, world-class mentoring sessions, and exciting editorial opportunities.

And with so much talent to celebrate across the API community, Spotify’s 2024 APIHM campaign is also spotlighting four additional up-and-coming artists: singer-songwriter Dhruv, pop artist Tiffany Day, rapper 8RO8, and DJ-producer Knock2.

“Spotify continues to champion emergent voices on our platform, with a focus on honoring the diversity within our diaspora,” said Sulinna Ong, Spotify Music’s Global Head of Editorial and the executive sponsor of SPACE, Spotify’s API employee resource group. “As the exec sponsor of SPACE, I’m honored to support the great work our Spotify band members do during APIHM and throughout the rest of the year to champion API creators and foster spaces of growth for the members of our community.”

Keep reading to hear from these rising stars.

Emei

What does being an artist from the Asian and Pacific Islander community mean to you?

My parents are Chinese immigrants who came to America in 1988 for education. They are the reason I’m able to pursue my dreams without hesitation, so to represent that community and to make them proud really does mean everything to me. I grew up with very little AAPI representation in pop culture and didn’t seriously consider pursuing this career because I never thought someone who looked like me could succeed in the entertainment industry. It’s an honor to be a small part of this exciting movement and change in culture.

Why are you excited to work with Spotify on the Gold House Futures Music Guild?

Spotify has been one of my biggest supporters ever since one of my first releases, Late to the Party, was placed on the Fresh Finds Pop playlist. I’m really grateful for the early and ongoing support, so it’s a dream come true to be able to partner with Spotify and Gold House for this upcoming Spotify Single. Super pumped to hear what y’all think of it!

Paravi

What does being an artist from the Asian and Pacific Islander community mean to you?

Humans are such complex and colorful individuals with so many unique traits and characteristics. It’s incredible to have another layer of the Asian Pacific Islander experience added to this existence, like the cherry on top of my personality, my sense of humor, and fashion—all the things that make me me. It informs what I create, how I create, and why I create, above all. I know the mission of fostering more diversity and representation in the entertainment industry may seem like a very heavy burden to bear on young shoulders, but it’s truly one of the many matches that lit my fire. I feel called to pursue my sparkly, glittery artistry and the most authentic version of myself, to heal my own inner child, and to see my most fantastical dreams become reality with my loved ones, but to also prove that it can be done, and that I, a brown girl from a cornfield in Ohio, can be the one to do it.

Why are you excited to work with Spotify on the Gold House Futures Music Guild?

The Gold House Futures Music Guild feels like a lighthouse guiding me to a new home, serving as an opportunity for me to not only learn from and observe this beautiful community of API creatives, but to become a part of it! I’m so deeply excited to soak up every new experience, every new relationship, and every bit of knowledge and wisdom these partnerships will offer. 

I’m also incredibly excited about the billboards and marketing to come for API month, not just because I’m full of myself and want to see my pores magnified across all of Los Angeles, but because I know that if I saw a giant poster of an Indian pop star on the drive home from school when I was a kid, my giant dreams would feel a bit more possible. I really hope a little Indian girl gets to see that billboard and feel that way, and I’m deeply thankful for Spotify and the Gold House team for creating the chance for that to happen.

Towa Bird

What does being an artist from the Asian and Pacific Islander community mean to you?

Being an artist from the Asian community means that I come from a heritage with such rich culture. I’m lucky to be able to write that into my songs. Also the food slaps.

Why are you excited to work with Spotify on the Gold House Futures Music Guild?

It makes a real difference that Spotify is willing to support and highlight artists from the API community.

Dhruv

What does being an artist from the Asian and Pacific Islander community mean to you?

Many of us API artists have grown up receiving the message that it isn’t realistic or wise to pursue a career in music, in large part because we have historically been underrepresented in the industry. I think it’s beautiful that in spite of that we find ourselves here, making art, continuing to uplift one another as we scale new heights as a community.

Tiffany Day

What does being an artist from the Asian and Pacific Islander community mean to you?

Growing up, I watched a lot of Disney Channel and Nickelodeon, all the typical shows you watch as a kid. But for the longest time, all I could find myself thinking was, How do I look like these beautiful blonde girls on TV? I wanted double eyelids, sharper cheekbones, a nose bridge—I just wanted to look like those girls on my TV. Then I graduated from high school and all of a sudden, the monolid became a thing online. K-Pop came to the U.S., and everyone was celebrating the beauty of Asian women. I was surprised and also flattered that so many people called monolids beautiful. I stopped doing my makeup in a Western style, I stopped styling my hair pin-straight, and I stopped trying to blend into everyone around me in Kansas. I felt cool for the first time in my life.

To be given the chance to be that person for people like me, whether they are younger or older or the same age, is a priceless opportunity that I never thought I’d be able to receive. That’s why my identity as an AAPI is so important, because I truly believe a huge part of my purpose as a human being on this planet is to make others feel more comfortable, confident, and welcome in their own skin.

8RO8

What does being an artist from the Asian and Pacific Islander community mean to you?

To me, being an artist from the API community means showing kids from the islands that there are different ways to make it out. Hawaii has a vicious cycle that doesn’t allow for art as a “viable source of income” because it’s seen as a “risky career.” I’m here to try and inspire the keiki [children].

Knock2

What does being an artist from the Asian and Pacific Islander community mean to you?

My parents put everything on the line to immigrate to this country and give me the best opportunity they could in life, and I’m thankful every day for my family and community. I take every opportunity to show respect to my heritage, so this month means a lot.

Visit the Asian & Pacific Islander hub to immerse yourself in the music and voices of API creators.

From Heathrow to ‘Heartstopper,’ GLOW Artist Baby Queen is on a Musical Journey All Her Own

Bella Latham has long believed in her songwriting and composing abilities—even when it took others longer to recognize and amplify her talents. As a 10-year-old in Durban, South Africa, she learned to play piano by ear, and created compositions which she would then memorize and play repeatedly. She also wrote poetry that translated well to lyrics. After high school, she moved to London to pursue music, where she developed her first project, Baby Queen

“I came to London with a suitcase and 20 demo CDs, and nobody gave a shit because they were really bad,” she explained to For the Record. “I realized how difficult it was going to be to actually succeed. So, I decided, in order to do that, I had to get a lot better, work a lot harder, and really lean into what was unique about me. I did that, I found the sound, and then Baby Queen was born.”

In those early days, finding the sound came quickly, but Baby Queen didn’t quite have an audience. Everything changed after the artist was featured heavily in the hit Netflix series Heartstopper, which follows two high school boys who fall for each other, and who have the full support and love of their families and group of LGBTQIA+ friends and allies. The show was resonant for Bella, who had struggled for a long time to name and accept her own queer sexuality. 

Heartstopper fans quickly fell in love with Baby Queen’s raw, honest lyrics and built a strong, intimate, and fun relationship with the artist. (Fans recently made a now-favorite meme of hers, which features an inhaler marked with her most recent single, “Quarter Life Crisis,” symbolizing its vitality to their physical well-being.) 

This month, Baby Queen is also Spotify’s GLOW spotlight artist and part of our year-round campaign. We’ll support Baby Queen on our flagship GLOW playlist, as well as through billboards and other efforts. This comes ahead of the November release of Baby Queen’s first studio album. She spoke with For the Record about her GLOW ambassadorship, fans, and Heartstopper.

Baby Queen is a lyrically focused project. What is it about Baby Queen lyrics that resonate so strongly with your fans?

When I started releasing music as Baby Queen, I hadn’t been in love—or falling out of love—for two years prior to that. A lot of music is about relationships, but that’s not what I had to draw from during this time. It gives you the most feeling and the greatest urge to sit down and write music. So it’s been difficult, not having any of that. 

But during this time, I’ve really looked at myself and my face in the mirror and tried to unpack things about myself and tried to be very honest. I really love being so honest that the listener might hear it and feel uncomfortable, or say “Oh, did she really just say that?” And I think the reason people have connected to it is because I just have been really honest about some of the really difficult experiences I’ve had and the difficult parts of growing up and society and the world that we live in. I think that my music is something that young people can listen to and feel like they are being heard, or like the thoughts in their mind are being said out loud. 

What are Baby Queen fans like?

They’re really similar to me. That’s been really amazing because I feel less alone by finding this community. They’re really funny, they have great emotional depth, and they think about life deeply. They’re overthinkers. They’re people just like me, who have struggled, and felt alone, and a lot of them are part of the LGBTQIA+ community. I feel there are a lot of them who are trying to find their way through life and find out where they belong. And I feel like we’ve almost been doing that together, which has been amazing. 

How does music empower queer communities? 

In your upbringing as a queer person, you can feel quite isolated. And you’re quite lucky if you’re living in a metropolitan city and there are more versions of “you” that you can relate to. But most queer people are born in small towns and don’t have that. So finding an artist you really connect with, or a TV show or anything, opens up an entire world. That’s what queer artists like Haley Kiyoko and Troye Sivan were to me. When I was struggling with my queer identity when I was younger, I felt like there was something wrong with me, I felt a bit trapped. Music provides an escape, a hope, a dream, to express your identity and live the life you want to live. 

Speaking of TV shows, your music has been featured in Netflix’s Heartstopper. What has that relationship and its impact been like? 

Really surreal. It has been a really natural organic pairing. They—Patrick, the producer and Alice, the writer of the books—heard one of my songs on a playlist and invited me down to watch the first three episodes. I had no idea what it was or what it would become. But I wrote “Colours of You” for the first series. And after that it felt like I could breathe a sigh of relief for the first time in my career. 

The week when the show came out last year was the most insane. We were all in shock that music could be so directly linked and have such a spillover from the fandom into the soundtrack of a show, so it’s been surreal. 

What does it mean to GLOW?

What it means to GLOW is to radiate. I feel like people really glow when they are doing what they love and free themselves of all fear and overthinking and can really immerse themselves in the present and doing something they love. People radiate the most when they’re talking about something they’re really passionate about. That’s when someone genuinely physically glows. 

I feel like the moment I glow the most is when I’m on stage. Because I’m not thinking about anything other than being immersed, in that moment of doing what I love. 

Stream Baby Queen on the flagship GLOW playlist.

Meet Jay-Ann Lopez, the Black Woman Expanding the Definition of a ‘Gamer’

Jay-Ann Lopez is passionate about her video games. She’s currently very into Spellbreak—a multiplayer action-spellcasting game where players can wield fire, ice, toxic objects, poison, and stone. Her “wind-down” game is a calmer one, Spiritfarer, and she’s looking forward to gathering some friends to play Apex Legends season seven with her as well. Yet, as a Black woman, Jay-Ann is not who most people think of when they think of a gamer—which is precisely what she’s trying to change. There are countless women of color playing video games and looking for community. So she took it upon herself to make it happen and founded Black Girl Gamers

For the Record spoke to Jay-Ann about creating space for Black women gamers, the representation that is yet to come, and the music on her Start Select gaming playlist takeover. 

In 2015 you founded an online community called Black Girl Gamers. Can you tell us about the need that you saw for such a space?

It wasn’t a need that I saw. It was a need that I experienced. I’ve been gaming from a young age, but during that time, there were a couple of things that I experienced that led me to start Black Girl Gamers when I was in university. The first experience was not feeling represented in games. Another was just that lack of visibility for Black women who game. A lot of my friends that I was gaming with were white men. Eventually, I’d hear a sexist joke or a joke that is based in African-American vernacular English—and I’m not even American.

I tried starting my own channel. I then abandoned that, because I was like, I’d rather ‘do for everyone’ than just ‘do for myself.’ Now it’s taken off. We have 7,000 women in the group globally; in America, the UK, Asia, Caribbean, Europe. Wherever you think there’s a Black woman—she most likely games.