Naomi Scott is Back

Haerts Release New Music Video by Julian Klincewicz

It’s about the dreams and the pain that brought us together,” says Fabi, “the same forces that at times tore us apart.

“Julian came to shoot with us for a couple of days, just before we moved out of our house on Laguna Road, the place the new album is named after. We hadn’t planned to make a video, quite the opposite. We simply wanted to capture a quiet portrayal of our life at the house where this music was made,”explains Nini Fabi, the band's lead singer. “When we filmed the pulling of the thread, it was very much in the moment, and there was something cathartic about it. But looking at it now, it’s striking how deeply it connects to the song and what it means to us. It’s a song about Benny [Gebert, her bandmate] and me, about our relationship from the very beginning. About the promises, the negotiations, and the expectations we create in our minds.”

“Creativity and love are both a process of unfurling, of curiosity,” Julian Klincewicz shared with us. “Haerts and I have been collaborating on visuals for almost 10 years — an ever-evolving process. This new album has a simplicity to it, a straight-forwardsness ... and the music video does too: a visual allegory, one of connectedness, of pulling, of tension, of unison, of mystery and desire, and ultimately, of pure process. It's one of my favorite video pieces I've made in a while, and it came about almost completely spontaneously ... as if by magic.”

“Laguna Road is about looking back, a 'piecing it together' album. Sonically we moved away from what we had done on our previous records. We wanted this album to feel raw and vulnerable. The songs move slowly and we leaned into that with a light hand on production.” adds Benny Gebert.

Music

A (Black) Star Is Born

July 25, 2025

Amaarae is what happens when time spent honing one’s craft, sharpening the sword at the wheel, and leaving space for playfulness all coincide. She’s bold—at times chaotic—but always intentional. A seed nurtured in both the Bronx and Accra, Ghana, she’s learned to appreciate the streets, the sidewalks, and the people who build the culture around her. She lets it all seep into her music, into the fluidity of her voice and her aesthetic, bending genre and form as easily as she changes cadence.

As she gears up for her next era, those formative moments remain at the forefront—but now, she’s also holding up a mirror, reflecting it all back. She’s showing others that what’s in her is also in them. Taking off from a stellar festival run and strutting through the streets of Paris with the same ease she brings to a booth or a stage, Amaarae is raising the Ghanaian flag and lifting Black girls alongside her, continuing to show the world the fearless, joyful, intentional makings of The Black Star.

Text by Rianne Akindele
Photography Jenna Marsh & Salomé Gomis-Trezise

On Childhood, Drive & Family

Tell me a little about your childhood. Any memories that stick out to you today?

Honestly, it feels so long ago, it's hard to remember sometimes. But music was always a big part of my life. I remember my dad driving me to my mom’s office and we’d always be listening to music in the car.

It seems like your family has instilled a real sense of greatness in you. I saw your sister just received her Ph.D, as well—where does that drive come from?

My mom, for sure. She’s so ambitious. She’s worked in finance, marketing, and in the Ghanaian government. She’s always set a strong example for us. One thing she’s always said that’s stuck with me: “When you’re working with others, always be kind and polite.” That’s shaped how I move in the world—how I lead, how I collaborate. I try to create fair, just working environments.

What’s it like working so closely with your mom in your career?

It’s been... interesting. We've learned a lot about each other. I’m more free-spirited and edgy; she’s more conservative, but also very open-minded and extremely hardworking. We’re both strong thinkers. We disagree a lot. On work calls, she’ll be the one to say, “Don’t do that,” and I’ll be like, “No—you don’t understand!” Not just because we’re mother and daughter, but because we’re coming from different schools of thought.

She’s a conservative African mom in many ways. She’ll see a picture and ask, “Are you smoking now? Why?” And I’m like, “Relax! I don’t smoke every day, it was just for the photo or the vibe.” She's always reminding me I’m a role model for young African women, especially because I’m provocative and she’s more traditional. We don’t always agree, but I respect her deeply.

On Black Girl Empowerment

I’ve heard this new era is about Black girl empowerment. What made you want to center that? Is there something you wish you heard sooner—something you’ve been affirmed in or are unlearning?

Everything I do is about empowering Black girls. When I think about my music, I mostly see alt Black women. This era is different, though—it’s about being a Black Star. That phrase means something to me: my daily existence, the people who love my music, the energy we create together.

I was thinking about what it means to be a Black Star—not just within myself, but in how I pass that feeling on. It’s important. We don’t see enough Black girls get to be stars. We’re not afforded as many opportunities to be mediocre and still receive visibility or resources.

I know how much I’ve had to master my craft, how alert I have to be, how I built my business from the ground up. So when I think about who I want to give power to, it’s Black women. Only them.

And how have fans responded to that energy?

That’s been the most affirming part. The fan interactions are the rollout. Like when I tweeted, “I need 50 of the most beautiful girls to meet me at the park,” and 50 Black girls showed up. They share their stories with me. And in pedestalizing me, they’re pedestalizing themselves. I make sure they know I’m accessible. We can talk. We can hug.

What’s something you’ve had to unlearn?

Patience. With myself, with others, with the process of life. That’s been my biggest area of growth.

On Creative Process & Place

You’re not new to this—what’s a non-negotiable part of your creative process now?

I like to make albums in new environments. I travel somewhere I’ve never been—like the Canary Islands for Angel You Don’t Know. The fresh air, the horses grazing in the streets... it opens me up creatively. For Fountain Baby, I went to Brazil. The people there are so free in spirit, in thought, in love, in art. No barriers. They enjoy life to the fullest. It was beautiful to be welcomed into a community I didn’t know I had—and to bring my team along for the ride.

Where in the world has shaped your artistry most?

My hometown, Ghana. It’s the first place I had any real contact with anything—food, music, love, art, family. From being 14 or 15 to now, that’s where it all started.

What’s your comfort meal?

We have this dish called waakye. It’s like a rice and beans stew with avocado, onions, burnt shrimp paste, shito, pepper, gari, spaghetti... I need all of that.

On Play, Persona, and Performance

How have you been having fun this time around?

By centering the fans—not just mine, but the music of others. I’ve been curating experiences with DJs from the community, and making it about their stories too.

Your voice can be soft, sharp, playful, powerful. How do you choose which vocal persona shows up in a song?

It depends on what I want to communicate. Mischievous? Sharp. Vulnerable? Soft. Sometimes airy or smooth. Other times I want to scream. I just follow the song’s energy.

Any lyrics from the new project that feel especially close to you?

Yes—several. One of my favorites is from “B2B.” It starts playful and cheeky, and then gets really somber and reflective.

“I’ve been into you, I like what we do / Now come into me, see my point of view.” “It took me years to see the signs, bitch, I was on the cusp.”

Another one is “Dream Scenario”:

“Kisses in the key of love, it’s ebony / Angel when you breathe into me, heavenly.” “My bitch style like Edna Mode / Can’t put on no cape for her!” “Yes my life is wavier / But she make it wavier ier ier ier ier ier.” “I need a love for summer / Now, what are you gonna do with it? / I know my heart is sensitive / What are you gonna do with it?”

You’ve been playing festivals—and more are on the way. How do you think about your live shows?

What’s the dream version? A small crowd—like 100 people. I just want to sing everything acoustic. Some B-sides. Even the stuff I put on SoundCloud.

On Joy, Humor & Style

I saw you retweeted a Druski video. Got a favorite skit of his?

Yes! The one he did a couple years back about football moms of middle schoolers and then the recent white “Y/N” one killed me.

What’s been bringing you joy lately?

Hanging out with my family. Going to Paris for fashion. Just being surrounded by people I love.

How does your current style reflect what you're feeling inside?

I wear all black all the time because I am the Black Star. It feels like armor. I feel invincible.

Music

Can't Catch Me: VTSS Takes Over the Office

July 21, 2025

“I started low-key questioning my own identity. Like… am I still me?” says Polish techno DJ and pop princess VTSS. Her newest single Can't Catch Me co-produced with Hudson Mohawke and in collaboration with fashion director duo Shadrinsky and Telekom Electronic Beats, focuses on the anxieties Gen Z are experiencing with the prospect of their digital identity being stolen.

“I’ve always been fascinated by identity — even before my music had lyrics, I was naming EPs things like Identity Process, Self Will, Self Control,” she tells me. “As an artist, your creative input is everything. And with the rise of AI, algorithms, and endless sponsored content, it’s not just our art that’s affected — it’s our love lives, our money, our sense of humor, even our politics. Kids are getting radicalized by For You Pages. It’s wild.”

Robotically droning through a day at the office, the video introduces more VTSS lookalikes instilling a sense of paranoia in the hero who seeks to escape their company. Shot in Shadrinsky’s signature static shot style, creating the narrative through CCTV-esque footage.

Text by Gary Grimes
Directors Yulya Shadrinsky & Marita Gurcciani
Photography Svenja Ava for Deutsche Telekom
BTS Imagery VTSS

“Honestly, I never imagined I’d get to do a production this big for one of my songs,” she goes on. “As an independent artist, that kind of thing feels out of reach. But thanks to Telekom Electronic Beats partnering with me on their Own Your World online safety campaign, we got to bring this huge vision to life — and hopefully influence the world in a good way at the same time. And they gave me so much creative freedom. It’s one of my favorite things I’ve ever made, and now it lives forever in my little music video universe.”

The army of VTSS clones really scaled up the production, “It was wild. Even the crew who know me well kept getting confused and chatting up extras thinking it was me,” she recalled. “At first I thought it was hilarious — like there I am again — but after five days of filming, it started to mess with my head. Everywhere I looked: girls in black wigs, dressed like me, acting like me. It got a little Black Mirror. “It’s funny, but also a little creepy — like the internet sometimes".