Listening to Paxson Chase’s new album is like stepping into a dreamscape where vulnerability meets rebellion. It’s raw, messy, haunting, and beautiful—kind of like life itself. With his unique fusion of alternative rock, lo-fi, and bedroom pop, Paxson invites listeners to take a seat in his world, where every emotion is amplified and no thought is too dark to explore.
The Trenton, New Jersey native doesn’t just write songs; he builds a world where introspection reigns. His lyrics feel like they’ve been pulled straight from a diary hidden under a bed somewhere—complete with crossed-out regrets and scribbled hopes.
Tracks like “Vanilla Sky” and “If I Died, Would You Grieve?” leave you with that heavy, contemplative pause, like when you stare out the window of a train and imagine your life as a moody indie film. Yeah, it’s that kind of vibe.
Yet, despite the weighty themes of depression, heartbreak, and existential exhaustion, Paxson’s music isn’t here to wallow. Sure, there are moments where he dives deep into the abyss—“Melatonin” will have you lying awake at 3 a.m. questioning your whole existence—but there’s also an underlying current of hope. It’s like Paxson is whispering, "Hey, I’ve been there too. You’ll get through it."
What’s most striking about this album is its genre-defying spirit. Paxson’s influences—ranging from Kid Cudi to XXXTentacion—are evident in the way he blends melancholic lo-fi beats with alternative edge and emotionally-charged storytelling. On “Lucidity,” he captures the bittersweet dance of loving someone who consumes you, while “Still Woozy” (featuring kier Ramar) explores the bitter aftertaste of a breakup that lingers long after the fact. It's heartbreak with a hangover.
The sonic textures shift between dreamy and gritty, but the emotional core remains steady throughout. Tracks like “Camera Roll” hit particularly hard, reflecting on the distance that success can create between oneself and loved ones. You can almost feel Paxson scrolling through those old photos, wondering how things got so lonely on the way to achieving his dreams.
And then there’s “White Heart Emoji”—a gut-punch of a song that explores the poisonous influence of toxic relationships. It’s equal parts cathartic and cautionary, reminding us of the importance of setting boundaries with people who do more harm than good.
And let’s talk collaborations!
The features on this album, particularly “Melatonin” with jomie, bring a deeper dimension to Paxson’s introspective style. There’s a shared melancholy between voices, like two people lost in the same fog but finding solace in each other’s presence. Despite the emotional heavy lifting, the album never feels exhausting. Instead, Paxson strikes a delicate balance—giving listeners space to feel deeply but also reminding them of their resilience.
His confessional style isn’t just about purging his demons; it’s about giving others permission to confront their own. Ultimately, Paxson Chase’s latest effort cements him as a voice for the vulnerable and misunderstood. His music offers both a mirror and a map—reflecting the struggles we often bury while also pointing toward healing and self-awareness. It’s an album that doesn’t just ask to be heard; it demands to be felt. If you’ve ever wrestled with your inner demons at midnight or found yourself scrolling through old memories, this one’s for you.
Your music blends genres like alternative rock, lo-fi, and bedroom pop so seamlessly. How did you develop such a unique sound, and how do your influences like Kid Cudi and XXXTentacion shape your creative process?
X and Cudi play a huge role; they showed me it’s okay to be vulnerable in my music without making it cringey or uncomfortable. They, along with artists like Hopsin, 50 Cent, and Michael Jackson, helped me create the sound I have now. Just understanding different genres and being willing to try anything is always a good thing, especially in music
A lot of your songs explore heavy themes like mental health, heartbreak, and existential reflection. How do you balance being vulnerable in your lyrics while still giving listeners a sense of hope?
I try my best to show that, even with all the things I go through, I’m still very positive. I think the point of the music is to show people they aren’t alone, and in that sense, there is always something to be hopeful about.
Tracks like "Camera Roll" dive into the sacrifices made in pursuit of your dreams. How do you personally navigate the tension between ambition and maintaining meaningful relationships?
It’s hard, so hard, but I’m blessed and grateful for the ones I have around me. Just like many artists, I’ve sacrificed love, family, and friends for this, and as time passes, I often question my decisions. But it’s a part of the game. I just try to be more present and make time for the ones I care about.
"White Heart Emoji" tackles toxic influences and self-destructive behavior. What inspired that track, and how do you protect your mental well-being in an industry that can sometimes be overwhelming?
I often keep to myself or stay with the small circle of friends I have. It’s hard to really trust others, especially in an industry where it’s more of a 'crabs in a bucket' mentality.
The collaborations on this album, like "Melatonin" with jomie and "Still Woozy" with kier Ramar, really add depth to your sound. What’s your approach to collaborating, and how do you know when a track needs another voice?
It’s funny with Kier Ramar—he’s one of those people I keep close, one of my best friends. I never intended for him to be on 'Still Woozy.' I sent it to him for feedback and criticism, and he called me back saying he’d have his verse in three days. I thought it was hilarious because I didn’t think anyone else would be on the song; I couldn’t even imagine it in my head. With Jomie, it’s a little bit different. I knew I wanted him on 'Melatonin.' For me, I often know which artists I want to work with, and I’ll try my best to create a song I know they’d feel good working on.