mazie: Cover Star Awo Jama + Ally Wei

Writing by Awo Jama Photography by Ally Wei

Grace Christian has no friends. A laudable presence on the interwebs and an invested fan base? Perhaps. Heart emojis of every variety color the comment section of her Instagram, and her Tik Toks boast an impressive number of views. Her streaming numbers on Spotify would be a point of jealousy for a number of up and coming musicians, as they reach well into the millions. Despite all of this, she has no friends to speak of. She doesn’t have fun and certainly doesn’t make plans. Yet, she doesn’t care. She’s not upset.

Overheard in conversation, the above detailing of Christian’s absence of a social life might come across as hyperbolic, untrue even. After all, what twenty-something is roaming through the most formative years of their life without a ragtag group of confidants by their side? Wrapped in nonchalant vocals and paired with high energy beats, however, this proud declaration of isolation reflects an honesty that breeds relatability. Through her self-depricating confessions of relationship anxiety and fatal flaws, Christian, more widely known by her stage moniker mazie, is bearing a truthfulness that more and more musicians of her generation are beginning to adopt.

An East-coaster by way of suburban Maryland, mazie got her start in music through the Catholic church, singing in choirs from a young age. As heavily involved as she was in vocal performance, as she progressed through her classical training mazie began to feel disconnected from the discipline. She attributed this lack of connection to classical voice to the style’s rigidness, realizing that “classical voice is so specific, and you can’t be artistic about it.”

“I was never really able to develop this artistic voice. And I was always so anxious that my voice would never stand out on a song, just because my entire upbringing was making my voice sound not unique, but perfect almost,” recalled the singer.

Upon entering college, mazie made the choice to leave behind classical voice, opting instead to try her luck at becoming a recording artist. The transition was daunting for the burgeoning artist. The studio soon be-

came a place for unlearning, a space to “counter the heavy tone” that she had formed during her years of intense, regimented vocal training. Luckily, mazie was not alone in the process of reworking her sound; her close friend and producer Elie Rizk was there to aid her in developing her artistry. Following their first introduction to one another when mazie was 15, the two spent a great deal of time in the studio together, experimenting with different sounds while attempting to craft the artist that mazie would become. They even made an album while mazie was still in highschool, although at the artist’s request, it will never see the light of day. Their dissatisfaction with the project, which mazie describes as a “nightmare,” pointed towards a larger issue with the duo’s approach, the issue being that they were trying to force a “center pop” sound that neither of them resonated with. From here, it was back to the drawing board.

The next few years saw mazie and Rizk continuing to explore different soundscapes, but most importantly, saw mazie opening up to what life outside of the studio could look like.

“I just went and kind of like, lived my life for the first time in college. And I was experimenting with like, certain psychedelic drugs and my relationship with music and myself just changed so drastically,” said mazie.

Reconvening one winter break, Rizk and mazie, now equipped with a clearer idea of their musical goals, created mazie’s first single “no friends,” an eccentric tune that positions the artist as a withdrawn hermit who has forgone all companionship. The song landed the artist on coveted Spotify playlists, and served as an introduction into the mazie world.

How exactly would one begin to describe the mazie world? Sonically, it’s bouncy, playful, and whimsical, reminiscent of the Beatles’ seminal “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” album. In an interview for Lady Gunn, mazie stated that the 1967 project “completely changed” how she viewed creating music, and motivated her to “create something that doesn’t quite exist yet.”

Where things really get interesting are the visuals, which further extend the reality that mazie crafts in her songs. Bright, campy, and colorful with a DIY aesthetic, the three music videos mazie has released so far all take place in different rooms of the same house, a deliberate choice meant to provide continuity across videos. mazie’s presence on social media seems to be a continuation of the world that is reflected in her albums, as she frequently sports technicolored outfits and makeup in posts that are edited to depict multiple versions of herself.

“Instagram is such a toxic place. But I have funda way to make it non-toxic for me, in that things I post on Instagram are just, they feel like little little art pieces...when you look at my grander feed overall, it’s just so representative of how I see the music and how I see this world,” explained mazie.

High saturation and head turning makeup aside, mazie is moving through the industry with an authenticity that extends well beyond her years. Her lyrics reflect on mental health in addition to the anxieties she feels towards transitioning into adulthood and entering relationships, all subjects that heavily occupy the thoughts of young adults.

This authenticity is also reflected in her involvement in activism, as she frequently posts mutual aid resources and calls to action on her social media. From calling out the exploitative nature of unpaid internships in the music industry on her Tik Tok to discussing environmental racism on her Instagram stories, mazie is using her platforms to call attention to injustices that gen-Z are constantly working to dismantle. As involved with social justice movements as she is, mazie remains hesitant to overpower the voices of those who are on the receiving end of the injustices she is fighting against, as she recognizes that activism on the part of public figures on social media can tread performative territories.

“There’s absolutely pressure now for people who have a platform to be able to speak on these issues. And truthfully, like, that should not be something we want from every person that we follow,” said mazie.

“My whole thing is that I am trying to navigate a way to never speak for the experience of people of color, and exclusively speak to other white people. Like, I feel like that’s the only way I can be beneficial.”

As mazie works to transition into the mainstream, the way in which her music is categorized has become one of many factors to consider. While she sees her music as falling somewhere under “psychedelic driven pop,” she recognizes that our collective culture has rendered genre somewhat obsolete, and believes that genres are ultimately “predatory and outdated” in that people of color are often pushed into categories of music that they don’t participate in. No matter which category her music ends up progressing into, mazie ultimately hopes that her listeners take away what they want from her music.

“I hope they can derive their own meaning from the music and just, I don’t know, feel really good when they’re listening to it,” said the artist. Like, I feel very liberated by my music, because it’s very weird, so I just hope that people would have the same experience, listening to it and enjoying it.”

Awo Jama is a student at the University of Southern California currently pursuing a degree in Journalism. She serves as the Editor in Chief of Haute Magazine.

Ally Wei is a student at the University of Southern California currently pursuing a degree in Media, Arts, and Practice. She serves as the Director of Photography for Haute Magazine.

Creative Direction Sydney Loew Awo Jama

Stylist Izzy Lux

Model mazie – Grace Christian Assistant Cassidy Murphy

Management Jackie Karlsson Max Gredinger

Jewelry KatKim Fine Jewelry