Alternative-pop artist ILENE has been shaping a path all her own since she was just a kid in performance art school — embracing the way ideas came to her quickly, and proving her talents despite the odds. From Jackson, Mississippi, the multicultural artist leaned into music as a way to escape a turbulent childhood. Still, Monica Ilene Lackey’s imaginative nature and aptitude for learning got the attention of teachers and mentors who quickly noted her gifts, and when the opportunity came to study ballet, jazz and modern dance at an academic performing arts complex, she took it.
As a singer and songwriter, ILENE first gained traction online in 2019 with her diary-like lyricism and sharp, animated delivery. Since then, she’s been churning out pop bangers and honing her craft with collaborator, Grammy-nominated producer Epikh Pro (Bryson Tiller, Cardi B, Eminem) and pushing her wordplay and sonic romps even further than before. For example, her track “Exactly” where she embraces the downsides of womanhood, getting candid about bloating and acne, set to a tempo that hits before the lyrics do. Now she’s back with “SOBIG” another testament to her ability not to take herself too seriously while pushing a singular sound. “It’s a panty raid,” ILENE says of the range and chaos of her music. “Except, I’m doing it to myself over and over again and hoping people like my drawers.”
Below, ILENE talks to LADYGUNN about her formative performing arts education, pushing the boundaries of sound, and why hot girls can be funny too.
Your songs feel like a great combination of intelligent wordplay and spontaneous wit. I’m curious, how do they come to you? Does it feel like they write themselves?
All my art is spontaneous. I really see it as a gift and a curse. At any given moment, I’m brewing something; it’s never a dry spell. Songs attack me in my sleep, fly into my head like visions, make me drop the soap in the shower, all that. They absolutely write themselves. I’ve never had a moment where a song idea wasn’t already 80% to 95% written from the jump. All I have to do is write. It’s truly like being possessed … wait, that sounds horrible! It’s like being on autopilot. I’m constantly pulling inspiration from everywhere, churning and processing, and it reflects in my songs. There’s no buffer from conception to completion. I’m like a satellite. I’m blessed to have this ability, but it also makes it hard for me to stay present or sustain relationships. I’m always in a state of creation that feels outside the laws of this universe.
Speaking of navigating the laws of the universe, it seems like your humor is so central to your personality and writing. How do you think it helps you navigate the world?
It’s just who I’ve always been. I had a rough upbringing. My escape was reading, writing, singing, and sometimes movies. I loved Jim Carrey movies, and I could make the same insane faces he did. I’d practice in the mirror, and my parents would warn me my face would “get stuck that way”. I used to banter with authority figures and always came up with creative insults to defend myself from bullies. Even now, I know I’m unhinged. I’ll switch accents mid-convo, flip almost any negative into a positive. I’ve seen too much. That’s what it is, I’ve seen too much. So instead of falling into depression and self-pity, I laugh. I joke. I have to. I find the funny in any situation, no matter how fucked up it is. People are noticing, and honestly, it’s sad that folks don’t expect hot girls to be funny. I had to grow into my looks, so maybe that built character too? I had cystic acne in middle school. Everyone made fun of me. A dermatologist literally laughed me out of his office once when I was a kid. I still have acne into my young adulthood. But jokes on everybody, I read somewhere acne beyond prepubescent years means longer telomeres, meaning your body ages slower. So acne isn’t an unwelcome guest anymore. I get the last laugh. I look good as hell. But yeah, going crazy is what keeps me somewhat sane.
I know you went to a performing arts school. What was that like? How did that shape you?
It was the wildest, most privileged part of my childhood. I tested into a selective district-wide performing arts school called Power APAC [Power Academic and Performing Arts Complex], the only public school with a full arts program in the district. We had to take these IQ-like tests to get in, then audition for up to two emphasis classes. The two I picked were visual art and dance: art because I always loved art and drawing, and people always admired my art; and dance because I used to want to be a cheerleader, but my mother wouldn’t let me (even though she was one), so I figured dance was the next best equivalent. I remember visual art tryouts. I walked into a room with kids, and we sat at a round table with fake fruit in a bowl in the center. We were told to draw what we saw. I’d always drawn meticulously but quickly. It was a timed tryout, so I sketched the fruit the best I could, as fast as I could, without running out of time. A few minutes later when I said I was done, the teacher snatched my page and scoffed, “You did that too fast, that’s not art. Real art takes time.” And man, I wanted to cry. Tears welled up in my eyes. That moment stuck with me and I hate that I still carry it with me. Even now, I can’t lie and be precious and say songs take me months. I process things so fast that I used to think something was wrong with me. Fully fleshed ideas come to me at lightning speed. My best songs are written within single-digit minutes.
The dance audition was different though. The chair of the dance department saw my potential as a dancer and I was accepted. Long story short, attending that school was the best thing that ever happened to me. I was in advanced academics classes and was a student in the dance program, learning ballet, jazz, and modern dance. For eight years, I got up before the sun at 5 AM, rode the bus before sunrise, and started my day dancing. Movement freed my mind. Later I got a chance to explore other fields like music, piano, theater, and visual art, but I always returned to dance.
I had incredible teachers and I call them my fairy godmothers. They were so loving, talented, and passionate. Every day I was shaking off demons at home you couldn’t imagine. Sometimes moving your body is what it takes to fully express yourself and get yourself out of your head and into your bones. Dance saved my life. My fairy godmothers saved my life. That school saved my life. It gave me tools and opportunities my family could never afford, and I fought hard to stay in it.
How did you write “Exactly”? Where did it come from what was the inspiration?
God, I just wrote how I felt. It was around 3 AM. I had really bad insomnia but I was tired from staying up late and still couldn’t sleep. I was so over it. Then I looked in the mirror and saw not only was I broken out with zits everywhere along my chin and jaw, but my gut was hanging out from being extremely bloated because my period was late. I was so done. Then my ass is so big that my panties kept riding up all night. After lying in bed for hours right as I was drifting off, the first few lines of the song flew into my mind, and I begrudgingly got up to give it space to land, and “Exactly” was born, kicking and screaming.
So you told us about your next single, “SOBIG”. Is that track about what I think it’s about?
One night I ate too many sweets before bed, and I had a lucid dream that I was standing up in an empty nightclub with neon pink walls and lighting, stark naked, and I looked down and saw I had a newly minted penis between my legs. It was cute tho. But it was so detailed and hyperrealistic that I was sooo relieved when I woke up. I told my producer [Epikh Pro] and we were like, what the fuck? It felt like an advanced metaphor for something. Days went by and images of that dick kept dancing in my head, then exactly a week later, boom the song idea hit me, and “SOBIG” was born. At first, it only had one verse, but a week later I was in my living room, thinking about outer space, and I started laughing maniacally like a psychopath while writing the second half, comparing massive shlongs to ridiculous, over-the-top scale. It’s hilarious. It’s so inappropriate.
So much of the visual and musical world you’ve created for your work is DIY. What’s that process like when it comes to bringing your ideas to life?
Honestly? Being broke as hell has made me incredibly resourceful. My DIY is by necessity, not luxury. I make do with what I have. I record ideas on my phone. I take my own photos, setting 10-second timers, and running back so fast in six-inch heels that I almost sprain both my ankles while I pose in tubs, crouch down in hallways, and kick back on couches. I say fuck it and do it all myself because I know my angles. I have to make concessions, knowing it’s not going to be exactly as I imagined it with a nonexistent budget, but I’m still incredibly surgical. I know what I want and how I want it. I create digital mood boards, test out different vocal tones, give Epikh the reins on sounds, and he’s so great at interpreting my insanity. From conception to fruition, I try to catch ideas like wild horses running. It’s like I’m Tarzan in the jungle, swinging tree to tree, just hoping one idea slows down enough for me to hop on. And when it does, I ride off in the sunset.
You also have the track “FRATBOY” coming out. I’m curious, how did it come to you?
I was scrolling reels the day I wrote it and I saw a couple where this girl’s man was a frat boy, suggestively shimmying for her in a video. And whew, I put my phone down and stopped everything, because “I need a frat boy” instantaneously flew into my head, which became the first line of the song. “FRATBOY” is an homage, a soundtrack, a movement celebrating aesthetically pleasing men with, in some cases, no common sense. Abercrombie-coded frat boys shimmying and thrusting, like the jogging scene from Juno. Everything right and everything wrong about the college party scene, but with a twist. It’s a parallel universe where frat boys cater to the girls they run game on, and they’re happily objectified by women. It’s an anthem for himbos worldwide. It’s funny, I had the concept for this kind of song for a while even before seeing that reel. I’d worked with a couple of Wilhelmina models on a project, and one was a total babe, hometown hunk, with golden retriever jock energy. That’s when I knew I wanted to write about those hot boys with mischief and a sly smile, who know how to charm every girl in the room.
What are you most excited to share with fans next?
Honestly? The journey. That sounds so cliché, but really, I’m ready to share it all. Everything. No holds barred. All the music. All the stories. It ain’t glamorous, but it’s honest work. My next song, “SOBIG,” drops soon and “FRATBOY” comes out in October. I can’t wait for everyone to hear the music. Sometimes, as an independent artist, it feels like a humiliation ritual just screaming into the void, but I’m in awe that lately people are starting to take notice. And sure, numbers are a blessing, and everything’s so mathematical and algorithmic with music nowadays, but what gets me is the not-so-little impact. Like, 500 people listened and followed me on Spotify. I’m not faking my streams or social media followers because I firmly believe that if you put on a show, the audience will come. Fuck clout. Sometimes you just gotta risk looking crazy as hell in the beginning — to everyone. Let people gossip about you, misunderstand you, project onto you, hate you, love you, whatever. It’s been a wild ride, and I’m just getting started. Claiming it now: this will be a pop revival the world desperately needs.
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