How Yeule uses music to create the 'safe space' she never had

Growing up, Yeule – real name Nat Ćmiel – felt like she never fit in. Music was her sanctuary. Eventually, it became an outlet and a safe space to explore her identity – something she hopes to provide for teens today who are just like her.

You have had Devialet Gemini for a while now, how did you test them out?
I tested them out on a bunch of different things. I called my best friend in Singapore, Kin Leonn and I told him, “Try to scream.” He did and the low ends were really good! I have a really specific method when I’m testing out new gear – I listen to Jon Hopkins because his music is extremely complex and tethers onto many different frequencies. If it sounds like how I remember it sounding at my friend’s studio in London, then I know it’s good headphones. Devialet Gemini passed that test with flying colours.

What is new with your upcoming album, “Glitch Princess”?
I’m known for my very dreamy, melodic synths, but I think the new record is going to be something that is a bit more noise oriented – like the dreaminess got sucked out and is gone. There will always be a level of dreaminess in my work because I’m obsessed with utopias. Now that I’ve seen so much of false utopias, I’m ready to go deeper into my own dystopia – to find beauty in the most ridiculous sounds, in the ugliest of noise. Just like how you come to terms with your ugly sides.

Gender and self-identity have always been prominent themes in your music, why is that so?
Some people might think I’m just confused or that I’m trying to get attention from coming out as non-binary, but I truly believe that I have so many personas that some of them are male, some of them are female, some of them don’t have a gender. So many different kinds of people exist in this world. You shouldn’t have to tone down for someone else, for culture or your upbringing. Pure expression is the main catalyst for a lot of my beliefs about gender fluidity. I used to be afraid of putting up my work because of the way I would be perceived. Now that I’ve come to terms with understanding who I am – that I’m a fluid, non-binary person – I’m more comfortable and more in touch with myself. It’s comforting to know that there are people who also feel and behave the same way, and grew up in similar situations.

Your aesthetic draws from classic manga and anime, but with a distinctly macabre slant – what is it about that look that draws you in?
I draw my influences from ero guru manga: erotic grotesque. It’s that subversion of normality, about looking for eccentricity in the mundane. It sounds so cringy and cheesy, but I feel like I’ve never fit in – I’ve always felt like an alien. My life has always been very mundane – I grew up in an extremely religious background, I attended local schools and an all-girls school. When I was a teenager, I was a very boring looking teenager. But inside I felt like I had these fiery burning things that I needed to release – especially with my identity – and I felt I wasn’t in touch with it until I found a common place through these mangas and animes. It was like I had finally found my people.

How important was it for you to find people like you, to create that sort of safe space?
The words and the meaning in my music allow me to say things that I would not normally say. For example, one of my songs “Pretty Bones” is about addiction and I would never have talked about addiction, outside of music. I grew up in a really conservative household – getting psychiatric help is not a thing, they just think you’re having a “phase”. Once I released that track, many people came up to me to talk about their experiences with addiction or a partner with addiction – which was my experience too. It felt like everyone had a safe space to talk about these things.

I have a Discord server, because I stream a lot, so I made a whole community for my fans. We have almost 3,000 members and I have a lot of fans that are from Singapore as well. I always read about their discussions with each other – for example, about their experiences with gender dysphoria, which is a huge thing that’s not discussed openly in Singapore. It’s a support system and it’s not just for me, the community is specifically meant to be a safe space for everyone – like the moment we see toxicity, we get the moderators to kick them out. Also because I never had that – I never had a support system until I started my career and I met people like me, which was honestly a blessing. If I didn’t do music, I wouldn’t have met who I know now.

Why is music your preferred medium to express yourself?
I started as a painter before I did music. I was always taking snapshots of my reality and abstracting them. Music does that sonically – I chose music over visual arts because of how shapeshifting and volatile music is. If you listen to music multiple times – even on the same day – I noticed that it becomes different and there are specific moods for different things. Like one day all I want to listen to is this, or another day I would not want to listen to a specific genre because it hits somewhere too close to home. I think that’s a beautiful thing – especially when you meet people in your life that relate to this feeling.

Photography MUN KONG
Art Direction IZWAN ABDULLAH
Styling MANFRED LU
Production BRYAN GOH