With a voice that cuts through the noise and visuals that feel like high-concept art, NASTIYA KAI is stepping into her own era. Her new single, Goodbye, is an atmospheric anthem for anyone who’s ever had to walk away to reclaim their power. We caught up with the rising star to talk music, emotions, and building a world of her own.

Your new single “Goodbye” captures the raw push-pull between escape and surrender. Can you walk us through the emotional core of that track?

“Goodbye” is about that thin line between letting go and holding on too tightly. I move around a lot: new cities, new people, new versions of myself. It almost feels like something is constantly changing, and I keep saying goodbye to something, be it a place, a person, or a version of myself that no longer serves me. I hate airports and train stations; they feel like a grief. 

So yes, this song is about saying goodbye to someone, but it’s also a lot more than that. 

The last verse is in Russian, and that wasn’t random either. It’s almost an ode to a part of my identity that I keep coming back to and then mourning again. 

The entire EP feels like a cinematic descent into personal transformation. What threads tie “Goodbye,” “Beautiful Boy,” and “Never Worked Out” together?

I like releasing works that were written over the same period. I never try to pull from older projects, although I do sometimes. This EP was drafted very quickly after a particular ghost from the past appeared. I wrote “Goodbye” first, then “Never Worked Out,” then “Beautiful Boy.”

“Beautiful Boy” is the finale to the trilogy that never happened. But like I already mentioned, the songs are about how that trilogy made me feel overall, given the circumstances I was in at the moment, and how love has made me feel over the course of my life because of my outside experiences and lifestyle, rather than this particular love story alone.

“Never Worked Out” talks about existential dread. About feeling empty. “My most precious emotional damage” is my favorite line in there because it feels so sacred to me. I think there’s something so vulnerable in allowing someone to destroy you, not in a toxic way, necessarily. For me, it felt gentle. Beautiful. It felt like love I knew wouldn’t work out, but I leaped anyway.

I restructured the order of the songs because “Goodbye” felt like a natural continuum. It’s about saying goodbye, and the process of that.

“Beautiful Boy” is the ending, not necessarily letting go. It’s the most fun track on there. It barely has any lyrics. I didn’t want this one to hurt, because it never did in the traditional sense of things. 

Your sound blends glitchy textures with soft, intimate vocals. What inspired this contrast in the production of ‘Beautiful Boy’?

It’s a reflection of where I am right now. Ever since newnew.wav, I’ve been feeling more at peace, lighter, more feminine. That’s a big shift for me, especially after the Demon Era. My lifestyle changed a lot. I’ve always been an introvert, but lately I’ve become even quieter, and I’m enjoying that. I’m not sure how long it’ll last, because I shed my skin often, but this is who I am at this moment in time.

Production-wise, I’ve been drawn to glitchy textures and singing in falsetto. It feels soft but distorted, personal, but kind of hidden. I wanted this project to feel like you stumbled upon something secret. Less “look at me and hear what I have to say,” and more “oh, hey, you found me. Let me whisper something in your ear, and we can share secrets.” That contrast of beauty and malfunction, clarity and static, feels like the most honest way to represent myself right now.

You’ve spoken openly about mental health and Borderline Personality Disorder. How does this EP channel that inner experience into music?

BPD isn’t just emotional intensity, it’s not being able to control and sometimes identify your emotions. 

The songs are full of mood swings. A song might start serene, almost innocent, and then glitch into something darker, then come back like nothing happened. I built it that way because that’s how my brain works. It’s messy, emotional, but honest to the core. I’m a walking contradiction, and that’s exactly what this EP sounds like.

Visuals are a big part of your artistry—from your cover art to the My Demon Era aesthetic. What’s the visual world behind this EP?

Think of a digital cathedral full of angels and rats and roses. Sacred and corrupted, with silk curtains hung on concrete walls.

I want it to feel almost apocalyptic, like the only thing that survived is the most beautiful dream you’ve ever had, and you don’t know what to do with it. And if you don’t act quickly, it will fall apart completely.

Fashion clearly plays a huge role in your identity. How does your style reflect the themes of this project, and what designers or pieces are you gravitating toward right now?

Clothes are armor. They let me shapeshift into whatever version of myself I need to be. For this project, I’ve been drawn to designers who understand duality, who build from ruin, not perfection. Dilara Findikoglu is a constant for me; her work feels like ancestral rage. Elena Velez has this brutal sacredness to her design. Fidan Novruzova’s work feels like a forgotten ritual, quiet, eerie, and incredibly intimate. 

At the same time, I’ve found comfort in the softness of Paloma Wool, whose pieces feel quiet, nostalgic, and intimate.

This era is about that tension: am I rotting or blooming? Is this dress sacred or sick? I want to look like something you can’t quite place. My style is about contrast, something that looks delicate but could bite you. I want to whisper something terrifying while looking angelic.

What do you hope listeners feel after hearing this body of work?

I want them to experience something. I want this to feel like a story they didn’t expect to find, something they stumble across late at night, maybe online, when they weren’t even looking for it. I imagine someone finding the EP alone in their bedroom at 2am, pressing play out of curiosity, and ending up somewhere they didn’t know they needed to go emotionally.

I don’t want this to be something you throw on while you’re getting ready to go out. It’s not background noise. It’s more like an escape. Or a mirror. Or maybe even a quiet kind of rescue. Something that helps you process something you couldn’t put into words yet.

To me, this project feels like a ghost, something that lives online, in between the code, just waiting to be found. It’s not loud. But it’s there. And if it finds the right person at the right time, maybe it can stay with them.

What’s next after ‘Beautiful Boy’? Is there a larger story you’re building?

Every project I release is a bridge to something new. I never want to stay in the same place for too long, I don’t think I can. I change constantly, and each project feels like an opportunity to shed a layer, tell a story, and then leave it behind. Once a story’s been told, it’s done. I’m already looking for what’s next.

I’m always working on new music. I never stop writing. I’d love to say what’s coming next will be a completely new sound… and maybe it will be. Maybe it won’t. I don’t know yet. I never do. I’ll say one thing and then end up somewhere entirely different, because I’m a different person every day. I guess I’m a liar in that sense, but at least I’m honest

What I do know is that I’m always excited for what’s next, for who I’ll become, for how the music will grow with me. It’s not about having a perfect plan. It’s about continuing to evolve.

Photography Diana Amefolle PR Hailey Bailey @haileybailey0 www.imagepr.net