An interview with Ævina
Where can we find you right now and what are you up to?
You can’t find me. I’m vacillating between planes of existence, mulling over cosmic politics, and occasionally dropping in on open mics and small venues in Jersey City and the Lower East Side of Manhattan. In truth, I am a traveler—travel competes with music as my first love—and my Instagram stories are almost always told in the past tense. Just because I’m posting about a place doesn’t mean I’m there physically.
That said, if you join my “Ukulelian Shenanigans” Instagram channel, I’ll keep you posted on opportunities to see me perform in real life.
As for what I’m up to, I have multiple songs and music videos in production, I’m rehearsing with a band of friends for future shows, planning my 2025 travel itinerary, and writing—always writing.
How would you define success? What is your goal?
I want to become the Next Small Thing—a grassroots artist with a cult-like following that thrives on intimacy and highly curated experiences. While my core message is rooted in inclusivity, I am paradoxically drawn to exclusivity. I value intimate shows and knowing my fans personally, as friends. My goal is to create a colony of Ukulelians united by the mission of transmuting pain into music, laughing often, and reimagining what is “normal” in favor of what we might individually or collectively aspire to.
For example, instead of a traditional release party for my Daily Dose of Danger music video, I hosted a murder mystery event that I wrote myself. Participants crafted poetry, took part in a ritual to revive me from my untimely demise, and immersed themselves in Ukulelia’s evolving lore as they explored my childhood home, transformed into a mansion filled with clues. It was chaotic, imperfectly perfect, and an unforgettable way to connect through creativity. I can’t wait to host it again, as I fully plan to expand on the experience as the lore continues to develop.
To me, success means building a world where art becomes a means of collective healing and inspires new cultural possibilities. I want to empower people to engage, whether through self-expression or joyful escapism, without the pressure to make it perfect or conform to preconceived notions of what makes art "good." I want to prioritize connection over perfection and community over commodity. The Next Big Thing is already covered; I feel confident my project is destined to be the Next Small Thing, and I’m taking steps toward that vision every day.
Your single ‘Daily Dose of Danger’ is so hauntingly unique. How did the idea for blending ukulele with esoteric drone sounds come about?
I have to give credit to my producer and friend Mike Rachlin for that creative direction. I came to him with my simple ukulele chord structure, lyrics, and melody, and he knew immediately which drones and synths to add to create the cinematic ambiance I am proud to call the final product.
Anyone who considers themselves fans of Modest Mouse, Brand New, Pinback, or Elliott Smith should definitely check out his solo project Head South. It’s an indie rock project influenced by the music coming out of the Pacific Northwest in the mid-90s to early 2000s—grungy guitars, loud roomy drums, and vocals that range from soft doubles to belligerent yelling. Themes include DUIs, substance abuse and dependence, coming to terms with aging, and doing laundry. He’s low-key a genius.
The Ukulelian persona is fascinating. Can you elaborate on how it reflects your artistic vision?
Absolutely. The Ukulelian is an embodiment of the voice in my head—a manifestation of my philosophical and artistic ideals. An alien who is so fascinated with Earth culture, she is in constant conversation with it, trying on different costumes and toying with lifestyle as if it were just another instrument in her collection to make art with.
On a basic level, she is an alien who plays the ukulele, and both of those symbols are central to her message. The ukulele is proof that art doesn’t need to be perfect or difficult to achieve in order to be valuable and beautiful. I often find myself proselytizing on her behalf—to anyone who's ever wanted to make music but felt intimidated by rampant elitism, she’s here to show that creativity is for everyone.
I also resonate with the alien metaphor personally. As a child of immigrants and a human with a neurodivergent mind, I am no stranger to feelings of alienation. Many aspects of human culture perplex me, and I often find myself writing music from this outsider’s perspective. The Ukulelian persona allows me to lean into that lens and celebrate the beauty of observing—and sometimes challenging—Earth’s norms from an otherworldly point of view.
As a multi-instrumentalist, how do you decide which instrument to use when creating a new track?
Historically, I’ve started most of my songs on the ukulele, especially when I’m on the go—it’s such a portable and intuitive instrument for capturing ideas in the moment. When I’m at home, I’ll sometimes begin on piano or guitar, depending on the mood I’m trying to convey or the complexity I want to explore. Most of my songs to date were initially sketched out on the uke, which lends itself well to spontaneous creativity.
Lately, I’ve been diving into Logic, and several of my upcoming releases were drafted there. It’s been exciting to experiment with digital tools, clicking through different sounds and textures, and discovering how they spark new ideas. This new process has been a refreshing way to expand my palette of potential genres and sounds.
You describe yourself as a “transcendent, interstellar bard.” How does this identity guide your artistry?
I love to travel and don’t see myself stopping anytime soon. Travel fuels my creativity, but it’s not always an easy journey—physically or emotionally. In times of emotional turmoil, I turn to music to feel less alone, and I often infuse even my saddest songs with lyrics of resilience. Music is a tool I use to intentionally steer my thoughts toward a healthier direction. I like to say I write songs to get stuck in my head to counteract the other things that tend to get stuck in there.
This is also why I feel so compelled to share my music—it’s not just for me. If my songs can help others navigate their inner worlds or feel a little less isolated, then I’ve succeeded. I see myself as a bard for the 21st century, spreading tidings of joy and silliness wherever I go.
What do you think of AI in music?
I’m genuinely excited about the potential for AI to make music creation more accessible to people who have ideas but lack the technical skills to play instruments or navigate certain software. I don’t believe we’ll ever reach a point where humans stop making music or where AI creations are valued more than human ones. Music is fundamentally about sharing how we feel and connecting with others on an emotional level. If AI can serve as a tool to help us access and express those emotions more easily, I’m all for it.
Tell us about your latest or upcoming release.
I’m really excited about my next release. It’s based on one of the most insane human practices I’ve witnessed to date: sports. The title of the song is S.P.O.R.T.S., standing for Subtle Provocation of Renegade Testosterone Separatism. Spoiler alert: I’m the provocateur. It’s a cheeky surf rock departure from the ethereal drone space with flavors of Hunx & His Punx and The Growlers. Coming in 2025.
Photos By Ben Franke
