Daeui

Can We Pretend feels like the emotional exhale after everything that comes before it on SHAM. At what point did you realise this was going to be the song that closed the EP?

If I didn’t write Can We Pretend, SHAM would never have been released.

The moment I started this EP, I knew I wanted to close it off with a nostalgic and easy-to-follow tune. Luckily, the lights were dimmed, I'd just watched Past Lives, and I felt sentimental enough to write this song.

Across SHAM there's a real tension between the endless noise of modern life and these quiet, deeply personal moments. Was making this record a way of slowing everything down for yourself?

It was. I consume too much media. It was healthier for me to document what it feels like to live in that constant noise instead of doomscrolling.

Life’s too hectic. Making music is my leisure time. I feel like a baby in an inflatable tube floating in a swimming pool when I do—I don’t know what I’m doing, but it feels good.

What’s ironic is that the faster, more intense songs actually "slowed" me down. I’m quite slow as a person, so the extra challenge made me dive deeper into it.

DRIVE took years to evolve, while Can We Pretend arrived almost fully formed in a single night. Has that changed the way you think about chasing perfection versus trusting your first instinct?

That’s a gooood question.

I must admit that I had a commercial angle with DRIVE. I wanted something that had a bit of a mainstream edge on the EP that people would find catchy.

Don’t get me wrong, I really like DRIVE and have enjoyed making it with my friends (shoutout to Joner and Woorini). I’m also glad it turned out so pretty. But looking at how long it took, I realised I need to like the song first and foremost before I put it out.

Can We Pretend is a great example of this. It’s a song where I would not care if everyone else hates it. This one turned out nicely, I listen to it at least once a week, and I’m proud of it (same with DRIVE, of course).

You've built an entire world around SHAM, from the surreal social media campaign to the listening party, film and zine. Do you see all of those creative outlets as part of the same story, or do they each reveal a different side of the music?

Is it bad if I say they’re intended for both?

I would describe these creative outlets as a glue gun that bonds all the different sides of the music into one cohesive story. Sort of like a binder for different chapters in a book.

I also feel that world-building for projects like these is important to immerse the listener. I can’t really say if they were effective, but I’d like to think that the different sides of the music were emphasised and therefore made more memorable.

Your songs have this uncanny ability to feel familiar, like memories you can't quite place. Are you consciously trying to evoke nostalgia, or is that simply how your songwriting naturally comes out?

Yes, I’m guilty. I do it intentionally. But it’s also because it sounds pretty to my ears, so I also believe it’s a natural occurrence.

Anything bittersweet or nostalgic has always left an impression on me. Photographs are one example, and the illustrations in Roald Dahl’s books are another. My favourite newspaper comic, Calvin & Hobbes, makes me feel hopeful, and at the same time, it makes me want to crawl back to the good old days.

But I’m a happy, positive person.

Looking back on SHAM now, what do you think this record taught you about yourself as an artist, and where do you feel that journey is leading next?

This EP made me wish I made music sooner. It’s pretty addictive to make stuff you like.

To satisfy this craving, I’m actually working on a project every Tuesday with a group of friends at Anjo Studio called The Tuesday Service. Keep an eye out for that one!