This past week, I got the chance to virtually interview Talaya., a Seattle native whose love of music has manifested into performances at the likes of Sound Off!, CHOP, and Refill — a Black-led livestream concert fundraiser for the Seattle Artist Relief Fund. She talked with me about her experiences with learning production, The Residency, and future plans for her music career. This dynamic Black female engineer is a rare jewel that I’m excited to shine a beam of light on.

Below is my interview with Talaya., edited for length and clarity.

How did you get started in music?

I was a dancer for about eight years. I danced with Northwest Tap Connection. I transferred to music after high school when I realized that the music was what I loved most about dancing.

What else brought you to music and performing? 

I got to a point where I had to make a choice. Am I going to do this professionally or am I just going to keep dancing with the community? My mom was looking at me like, “You need to get a job,” and my schedule wasn’t allowing me to even think about getting a job. So I was like, “Well dang, what am I going to do with my life?”

I sang most of my life — in choir, school, and church. My dad was a singer, musician, and producer. He passed away when I was very young, so I always had this little love for music inside, but I didn’t know I was able to do it as a career. And then 4nti told me to sign up for The Residency hip hop program. They showed me people who were successful from Seattle, people who were living off their art and really making a difference. I was like, “Wow, okay, this is a thing. This is a whole thing.”

I worked at Taco Time at the time, which I absolutely hated. While I was there, I kept getting these songs in my head. I was like, “This isn’t a coincidence. I’m not crazy, but I’m hearing sounds.” One thing led to another, and I did The Residency again — and that’s when I was like, “I’m gonna do this for real.”

What was your experience with The Residency?

It was eye opening. It was like a magical, hip-hop camp. It had that feeling like, okay we’re all here, and we don’t know what’s gonna happen. There’s young people. There’s older people who look like counselors or leaders. I didn’t know what to expect at first, but the year that was really impactful for me was my first year when I did the vocal track. At the end, we had this business week that was instrumental in me deciding that I could do this as a career and not just a hobby. 

The second year I did the production track, and that’s when I really started making beats, which was another thing that really propelled me forward. In 2019 I was an intern, and that was really cool, too. I got to help the other kids with production and beat making — and keep working on my craft.

As a black female producer, who are some of the pioneers who have guided you? 

I would classify myself more as an engineer now than a producer because I haven’t really been making beats. It’s really kind of a seasonal thing. I used to freak out and think, “Ahhh, I can’t make beats anymore!” But my love has shifted more toward engineering, recording, and mixing for people. 

People like Trakgirl and WondaGirl [inspire me], but there’s not a whole lot of us out there. [Producing] really came out of necessity. I couldn’t afford 50 dollars an hour at the time, and I had an exact idea of what I wanted my music to sound like so I was like, “Dang, I should just try.” I got on YouTube and googled everything. Then I was like, “I really dig this. Now I have to get better.” I put hours in every single day, and that’s how I got here. 

What’s the difference between engineering and producing?

Producing has three meanings. There’s producing for film or events. There’s producing where you help the artist’s vision come to light — almost like A&R — helping them get their ideas out and formulating everything. And there’s producing that’s beat making. That’s where I fall in. 

The difference between beat making and engineering is that engineering has to do with recording the sound. That’s a whole other art, which I didn’t know either. That’s what kept my interest in music; I kept finding out about these new careers and new facets that aren’t just singing on stage, and I was like, “Wow, this is really interesting!” With engineering — they call it tracking — I sit down with the artist, they say they want to punch in here or record here, and I press record. Once they leave, I add different processing and effects to glue all the elements together to make the song ready for mastering, which gets it ready for releasing. It’s a little bit of a different process, but [producing and engineering] do have similar creative energies that go into them. 

What was it like performing at CHOP? 

It was very interesting. It didn’t feel scary. There was a little bit of nervousness there because I just didn’t know what was gonna happen. That was kind of everyone’s energy when it was around. You just don’t know what’s gonna happen. That looming feeling that the police could come at any moment was nerve-wracking. But at the same time, there was definitely a sense of unity and purpose. A lot of the people were there to listen and be in the moment. They were there to listen to Black voices and the people who are affected by oppression. It was really nice. I appreciated that, and I appreciated people being vulnerable and sharing their stories. 

I only ended up doing one song, but it felt nice that my message was accepted. Especially in my newer music, I have a few songs that move more toward social justice, and it doesn’t always feel appropriate. If someone wants me to perform at a gala, I’m not necessarily going to do a social justice song. So it was nice to have a serious message and have people actually listen and care. 

What inspires your writing and music? 

Just expressing my emotions. I feel like that’s really underrated in our society — expression of what you’re going through and how you feel. A lot of the time it’s watered down, especially in music. When you factor in money, fame, and the industry, a lot of the truth of how you feel gets lost trying to secure the bag.

Music is really healing for me, even just the feeling I get when I sing — the vibrations. It’s really special. I like to use that to heal myself and remind myself of where I’m supposed to be and what I’m supposed to be doing. I hope that it will also inspire other people to hear that and be like, “That’s really cool. I think I could do something like that.” Or just to say, “Wow, I see how she got there. Now let me do what I know I’m passionate about.”

What’s a line from your own music that represents you? 

“Gaslight me while the world is on fire / It aint touch me, but the smoke taking me higher.”

I wrote that line before the world blew up. Before COVID and police brutality spilled over. In our society, a lot of truth gets covered up by how we’re supposed to act and the things that run our lives, like worrying about material things, personal image, and fitting in. [Society] almost lies to you and makes you forget what’s real and what’s true. We forget what matters. Sometimes it’s like everything around us is on fire, but we’re not affected and we’re not the one burning. It puts us on this high horse of like, “We’re untouchable. Nothing’s gonna happen to me. It’s fine.” We never think anything is going to happen to us until it does. So it’s a reminder to myself to always stay present and stay tapped in with other people and what they’re going through. And to remind other people of the same thing. 

Do you have any new projects on the way? 

I sure do! I’m working on an album. I don’t have a name for it yet, but I’m about 10 or 11 tracks in so the catalogue is building up, and I’m gonna start working on some visual content to go along with. It’s coming hopefully this fall.