Words / Jovita Tedja
Photos / Head in the Clouds LA
While 88rising is no stranger to championing Indonesian talent, from longtime label mainstays Rich Brian and NIKI to rising artist Warren Hue and singer-songwriter Stephanie Poetri, no na represents a new chapter for the label as its first girl group project. Made up of Christy, Esther, Baila, and Shaz, the all-Indonesian quartet officially debuted in May 2025 with “shoot,” immediately establishing an identity rooted in their Indonesian origins. Its music video moves through lush Indonesian landscapes, while traditional textiles are reimagined throughout the group’s styling. Rather than treating their heritage as a backdrop, no na places it at the center of their visual and musical world, bringing a distinctly Indonesian perspective to an increasingly global pop landscape.
That cultural specificity is paired with the polish of a group whose members were performers long before no na came together. With honeyed vocals, sharp synchronization, and an effortless chemistry onstage, the group draws from distinct artistic backgrounds. Esther and Baila both appeared on Indonesian Idol, while Christy made a name for herself as a competitive dancer within Indonesia’s dance scene. Shaz, meanwhile, spent part of her college years in Sydney, Australia, appearing in community K-pop dance cover videos. Together, those individual paths converge in no na, where vocal performance and choreography are as central to the group’s identity as the Indonesian influences woven throughout their work.
Earlier this year, no na found their breakthrough with “work,” a track that drew widespread attention for its commanding choreography, particularly Christy’s acrobatic opening, which immediately became one of the performance’s defining moments. The group quickly followed with “rollerblade,” further building their momentum and establishing no na’s distinctive creative identity. Beneath the sleek production and contemporary pop choreography, both tracks remain unmistakably connected to Indonesia. “work” incorporates the metallic percussion of the Balinese cengceng, while “rollerblade” draws from the sounds of gamelan, allowing traditional Indonesian instruments to coexist naturally with the group’s energetic pop sound.
When LADYGUNN sat down with no na at Head in the Clouds Los Angeles on August 8, the group was on the verge of an even bigger introduction. Fresh off the release of their latest single, “honk!,” Christy, Esther, Baila, and Shaz are now preparing for the arrival of their debut album, island girl, next month.
If their past releases introduced the world to Indonesia, their next chapter makes an even bolder proposition: that Indonesian culture does not need to be translated, diluted, or stripped down to belong on the global pop stage.
Esther: “honk!” is our introduction of more local Indonesian things to the world, and angkot, which is, you know, in the hook, “Get on the angkot,” is like a shared taxi that we have in Indonesia, where you can just get on the angkot and it can take you places. It’s basically like a minivan or a minibus, and local Indonesians take it every day.
Baila: Also, the honk in the intro is like a very iconic bus sound from Indonesia that we’re bringing back, the “Om Telolet Om.”
The angkot, as Esther explains, is an Indonesian minivan and one of the country’s most affordable forms of transportation. In a country where government-backed public transit is concentrated in major metropolitan areas like Jakarta, the angkot has long filled the gaps. Largely privately owned and independently operated, these vehicles function as an informal paratransit network, providing an essential mobility lifeline for lower-income communities, for whom private vehicles or ride-hailing services may be less accessible. By centering the angkot in “honk!,” no na elevates an image of Indonesia rarely exported through the polished lens of international pop: not the luxury resorts or tropical escapism often associated with the country, but the infrastructure of ordinary Indonesian life.
Meanwhile, “Om Telolet Om,” sung in the track through a surprise appearance from Rich Brian, traces its roots to a distinctly grassroots phenomenon. Translating roughly to “Uncle, honk, uncle,” the phrase became a viral sensation in 2016, when videos circulated of children gathering along Indonesian roadsides and calling out to passing intercity bus drivers to sound their horns. Individual buses became recognizable for their distinctive, often melodic klaxons, or the telolet. What began as a simple and accessible form of entertainment among Indonesian youth soon traveled far beyond the country, becoming an international internet sensation. Its inclusion in “honk!” therefore reaches beyond mere nostalgia: no na takes a cultural touchstone born from everyday Indonesian life and gives it new life within the language and spectacle of global pop.
no na’s upcoming album island girl spans 15 tracks, with the members naming “seafood diet,” “party in the +62,” “smooth,” and “nick of time” among their personal favorites. As no na’s first full-length album, island girl holds particular significance for the members, who poured themselves into bringing the project to life. The release also promises to reveal a more versatile side of no na, showcasing a broader range of their artistry.
Esther: I think just naming our album island girl is already us trying to push forth the Indonesian-ness of no na. And I think rather than it being us cosplaying what an Indonesian woman should look like, it comes organically for us because we all grew up in this country. We’ve grown up with the culture, we’ve grown up with the food, the music, and all of the culture that we have in Indonesia. Everything just seems so seamless and so smooth to implement all of that into whatever that we do.
Esther: It’s just like nature for us at this point. And we’re going to continue to do that because one, it’s a part of who we are, and two, it’s introducing the culture to the world more and more, and that has always been our goal from the beginning.
This instinct extends beyond the cultural references embedded in no na’s music. It is also reflected in the kind of Indonesian femininity the group embodies: playful, expressive, and unmistakably centil.
In Indonesia, a new generation of female musicians have helped usher in a resurgence of centil. While the word can be literally translated as “flirty,” its cultural meaning extends far beyond flirtation: centil embodies a playful yet self-assured femininity, with the confidence to be expressive, cheeky, and unapologetically visible. The sensibility has deep roots in Indonesian popular culture, particularly among female pop and dangdut stars of the 1990s and 2000s, before finding new expression through the country’s girl bands in the 2010s.
That embrace of centil carries particular weight within Indonesia, where more conservative social expectations around femininity can still shape how women are expected to dress, behave, and present themselves in public. Women perceived as too flirtatious, outspoken, or sensual can face heightened scrutiny, making centil a sometimes provocative label rather than an uncomplicated celebration. Reclaiming it, then, becomes its own subtle form of defiance. Instead of shrinking themselves to fit expectations of respectable femininity, these artists embrace being conspicuous and confidently feminine on their own terms.
Today, centil is once again being reinterpreted by a distinctly Gen Z generation of Indonesian women. Alongside singer-songwriter Naykilla, who has helped popularize hipdut, a contemporary fusion of hip-hop and the Indonesian dangdut genre, no na has emerged as one of the most visible faces of this revival. When asked to define exactly what centil means, the members offer perhaps the most fitting explanation possible: “Look at us.”
Baila: no na. Centil equals no na. Simple, simple.
Esther: Singkat, padat, jelas!
Christy: If you want to know what is centil, just look at us, no na.
For all the confidence and centil energy no na brings to the stage, their island girl beauty regimen is surprisingly simple. Between constantly traveling from Jakarta to Los Angeles, Esther swears by sleep, while Baila adds tanning to the equation and Shaz’s secret is plenty of coconut water. But the group collectively agrees that sunshine is essential. Christy ultimately distills the no na beauty philosophy into one idyllic image.
Christy: Sleeping on the beach with coconut water.
But take the island girls away from their island for too long, and there is one thing no amount of California sunshine or coconut water can replace: Indonesian food. Asked what they crave most while overseas, the answers begin pouring out almost immediately. Esther has spent days thinking about tempe orek, while Baila and Esther lament the difficulty of finding a martabak in Los Angeles that tastes quite like the ones back home. When they learn that one shop ships martabak nationwide, ordering just one is apparently out of the question.
Baila: “One? Four!”
Within moments, cakalang, gultik, and lidah sapi have all entered the conversation, until Esther finally cuts the group off.
Esther: Udah yuk, I think we’re just gonna keep going.
Perhaps that is the most fitting way to understand no na’s relationship with Indonesia. Throughout our conversation, the group speaks about bringing their culture to the world through music, choreography, language, fashion, and all the distinctly local references embedded throughout island girl. But their Indonesian-ness is just as apparent in the moments when they are not trying to make a statement at all: missing cabe rawit, debating where to find proper martabak, or getting a little too excited talking about gultik. For no na, Indonesia is less an aesthetic to invoke than simply the world they know. And for Christy, the mission is even simpler.
Christy: Indonesia to the world.
And if no na gets their way, the world might soon be coming to them, too. With island girl on the horizon, the group already has their sights set on touring, echoing the lyrics in “honk!” that charts a journey from Indonesia to the world: “Sabang sampai Merauke, New York, Tokyo to LA.”
Wherever no na goes next, one thing seems certain: they are bringing Indonesia with them.