On my work commute, in one of those idle in-between moments, I was listening to what’s wrong with me? by Olivia Rodrigo from her latest, you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love, when I felt the song had a familiar pull, like someone else I’d heard before. One glance at the writing credit confirmed it: Sasha Alex Sloan.
Somewhere during the pandemic, I moved out of my mom’s house and further into the city. It would have been cheaper to stay home, but for my sanity, I couldn’t bear it. Besides, everyone assumed this disease was going to be the Y2K event that never actually happened. I was lucky enough to find a cheap rental near a cemetery and called it home for the next year and a half, before my life changed too. That was also the year I first discovered Sasha Alex Sloan. A pop singer-songwriter from Boston who caught my attention entirely by chance while I was streaming music one night.
I’ll say it again, as I often do: pop music is a fiercely competitive genre. Many artists carve out subgenres, expanding their voice, sound, and style. But sometimes simplicity is its own form of consistency. The best work doesn’t have to live in the sound alone, though of course that matters, it lives in the writing. That’s where everything shifts.
Dancing With Your Ghost became the track that put Sasha on the map for a wider audience, circulating across Instagram Reels, TikTok, and YouTube. The graceful piano, the suspenseful chord progressions, the fragile and honest nature of the lyrics — it packaged her brand into what became known as the sad girl aesthetic, one she carried for a while before stepping fully into her own identity as Sasha Alex Sloan.
The way I’d describe her music isn’t simply pop. It’s introspective pop. A quietly prolific commentary on modern life, delivered with a kind of warmth that makes the weight of it easier to carry. Her 2019 debut Self Portrait contains Thank God, which I can only describe as the best pop song of that year. And then there’s her 2020 record Only Child — the opening track, Matter to You, wastes no time. New York, love, the pollution of the human condition, the complex nature of truth and lies. An incredible album. Is It Just Me? has become something of a growing-up anthem for me; no matter where I am in life, that song stays in rotation. Sasha and I are about a year apart in age, and her perspective has consistently aligned with the things I find myself saying out loud to friends and family — that gnawing feeling of being out of step with the world, and how that feeling only ever finds a real home in art.
As a writer myself, I’ve struggled with how much of myself to put on the page. The lore of my background involves a lot of legal complications — not mine, but within my family (maybe myself too…) — and the canvas I’ve found most comfortable for those stories is film. Every drama I’ve written carries some strand of my life, whether current or long drifted. But I wanted to know what Sasha does in those moments, how she decides what stays and what gets written out loud.
On the evening of October 21, 2024, Sasha hosted a pre-show VIP event: an acoustic set of her favorites followed by a Q&A with some of her most devoted fans, myself included. I was hesitant to raise my hand, but as the evening opened up and her fans began asking questions, I did.
Giovanni: You write a lot about your personal experiences — relationships, life. But while you’re writing, do you ever hit a moment where you think, Oh my god, I’m revealing too much — and feel like you need to pull back? Or do you just go in and write what you need to write?
Sasha: I always try to hide the identity of people close to me in my songs. Except my parents — I will fully put them on blast.
[The crowd laughs.]
Sasha: But no, I don’t really think about it that much, just because… I don’t know… (she pauses, reflecting) …maybe I really should think about it more.
[More laughter.]
Giovanni: No, no —
I jumped in, not wanting her to second-guess herself for even a second. Luckily, someone in the audience added their voice: “There’s strength in vulnerability.”
Sasha: Thank you. But honestly, I don’t really think about it. I have a hard time talking about my feelings — but singing about them is easier. It feels like I’m expressing them in a different way. I struggle in therapy. I get all weird. I’m like, “Yeah, everything is fine.”
[Gentle laughter from the crowd.]
Sasha: But with songs, that’s where all my real dark side comes out. So it all feels very natural.
The night continued — more questions, more laughter, more love all in the mix. Listening to Sasha has always been a safe space for me. In an ever-expanding landscape of new artists, I find a dose of her in almost every artist I’ve gravitated toward deeply. Maybe that says something about my age, or maybe it marks a milestone of some kind. Either way, nothing feels more profound than knowing that our best mediums are also the best homes for our darkest moments — and that within that, others can find their own light.
Photos by Giovanni Doray · Hollywood Theatre, Vancouver · October 21, 2024
All photographs © 2024 Giovanni Doray / Hollywood Nosebleed. All rights reserved.