What effects does it have on someone when their closest friends are usernames, and their happiest memories are bound to pixels and internet signals? Yeule’s music has been a gateway for me to explore these niche themes: digital loneliness & also my own queerness; she expresses the emotional complexities of this digital era—a space where connection is abundant yet often feels hollow. 

Yeule’s entire discography is an auditory experience that feels like both a cry for connection and a celebration of the freedom the virtual world can bring. It’s music that is supposed to be listened to when you’re sitting at your computer in the dark when nobody else is awake, with no one else to talk to. when your brain is tangled in its own thoughts. It feels like exiting a panic attack where everything seems more calm than it started. Issues still feel difficult but they’re not as insurmountable as they were in the beginning.

Everything feels nice and comforting yet bittersweet (a word I’ll be using a lot to describe her music.) It’s exactly what I feel when I look back at all the friends I’ve made online, most I don’t have contact with any longer, and the digital spaces that served as queer safe havens for almost all of my youth, a substitute for not being able to come out to my own family. It’s really strange to have these intimate connections with people you’ve never seen. Despite how easy it is to be vulnerable and to open up online, those moments will most often exist only in that space, and oftentimes they’ll disappear with time too.

Dream pop as a genre is introspective in this way too. It’s something that’s paradoxically synthetic yet real. Yeule encompasses these feelings in her music, how something artificial can somehow be more real than anything you’ve ever experienced.

In an interview with LE MILE magazine, she touches on the melancholy and emptiness conveyed in her music because of internet-induced solitude by sharing:

“The internet was a form of escape for me, but how I used it was wrong. I was creating this fake world by myself. It was inspiring, but I was in my head to the point where I was imagining things beyond comprehension. I’m a whole different person online, like a whole different persona. It’s not about being inauthentic but showing a part of myself that I repress. I see this anger and dark side to me sometimes when playing games.”

In her album Serotonin II, she conveys not only the bittersweet nature of time spent on the internet but hopes for the future as well. It’s almost as if she’s letting you know personally that things are going to be okay, that is until the final track Veil of Darkness where the “veil” slips and you see the darkness in yeule’s world: the confusion, the noise, the stress, the anger. It’s something that’s always been there but it just lurked under the surface. Once the distractions are gone, negativity is left with it. This is depicted in the music video for Pretty Bones where she best describes it herself in a comment under a reddit Q&A:

“pretty bones emanates a somber, dreary atmospheres that “loom” over the picturesque and aesthetically pleasing, evoking an anxiety that builds and distorts/ catches the viewer off guard as the video progresses. i wanted it to temporally shift to something quite disturbing , at first hinting at it and then fully revealing itself- just like when you grow up- from a child into the grown up world you are thrown forcefully into the corruptions and you fight and struggle to protect yourself from it, but some fall and some cannot handle the shift from “purities” or whatnot, in terms of mental health or people hurting you, environmental stressors that lead to a disintegration”

Yeule’s influences vary from the numerous aesthetics ranging from shoegaze to grunge, but namely Final Fantasy (which is where the name yeul comes from), a video game where you can get lost in an intricately crafted universe, yet feel the isolation of being the only one occupying it, is exactly what her music feels like to me—an immersive experience where everything is designed to captivate, but there’s always an underlying sense of solitude. She touches on this a bit by talking about her influences in the same interview by expressing:

“Dissociation was a huge hobby of mine in 2021. It got so bad that I’d dissociate while doing something important, and it would get dangerous. My body was shutting down because everything was too overwhelming. I didn’t have the tools to handle strong emotions”

Not relying solely on lyrics to convey this expression of self-discovery, fully embracing these influences, wearing them like a badge of honor in ways that are uniquely her own, she also uses sound effects, glitch, bitcrushing, and reverb to create feelings of fragmentation and digital decay, which perfectly embody the themes discussed earlier. She shares this in an interview, which I find so empowering, when discussing the difficulties of being an artist and being true to herself as a non-binary individual living in Singapore:

“Ugliness can be so beautiful, looking taboo, being unconventional — It’ll discriminate against you in some places, but you’ll find new people.”

Everything yeule puts out together evokes a bittersweet comfort out of people, like the calm after a storm, which resonates to many in the youtube comments of her music videos, where the beauty of vulnerability and imperfections are laid bare for you to experience. Such an important artist for this generation, with music so enchanting I actually want it injected directly into my veins.