After our first chat, we caught up with pami once more over Zoom to talk about her debut album. This time, the focus was entirely on the music—her process, her personal favorites, and the emotional journey behind the tracklist. What emerged was an honest portrait of an artist who plays between softness and surprise. Below is the full conversation, edited lightly for clarity but true to her voice and lowercase style.
If you had to describe your whole album in just one sentence, what would you say?
pami:
I’d say… joke and smoke. Yes, joke and smoke—because I think that really sums up the feeling of the album.
Some songs feel like a joke, like “pity dirty” or “kiss me blue.” They’re playful. But then others just vanish, like smoke—There’s something funny, and something fragile. That’s the world I wanted to show.
The album has so many types of songs. Which one feels like the true “heart” of the record for you?
pami:
There are 10 songs and lots of styles—some are synth-pop, like “kiss me blue,” some lean more alternative rock, like “candydate,” and others are bedroom pop mixed with R&B, like “pity dirty.”
But the hardest one—the most emotional one—was “highway.” It’s one of the four new songs, and it was the very last one I finished.
At first, I had no idea what to write. It was hard because I was also rushing to meet the deadline. The original demo came from last year, but it didn’t work.
I rewrote it five or six times, and finally, in the last three days before the deadline, I finished it. Now, it’s one of my favorites.
That sounds intense. Which song came out super quickly in contrast?
pami:
Definitely “kiss me blue.” And also “call my dad”—that one was so fast.
It took just two days to write the melody and lyrics, and the production took maybe one week. That was really quick.
But “highway”… yeah, that was different.
Even though we also finished it in three days, it felt long because of how many times I had to restart it. I had major writer’s block with that one.
In the end, I just followed the melody. I didn’t think too much—I just let it happen. I sent it to my executive producer, and he said, “This works.”
I’m really proud of that song.
Let’s talk abstract—what’s the “texture” of this album to you?
pami:
Texture? Hmm… I’d say puffy.
Something small and fluffy—but with impact. Like, imagine a puff that can suddenly explode.
It’s kind of like a girl’s emotion. You feel sad and angry inside, but you don’t want to show it in a big way.
So it’s like… this face (she gestures)—you hold it in. That’s what “perfect” feels like to me. It’s soft, but intense.
You mentioned the album has many genres. How did you decide the track order—from the first to the last song?
pami:
I wanted to start with something friendly. That’s why “kiss me blue” is first—it’s easy to listen to, and kind of sweet.
You know, if you meet someone and they cry the moment they see you, you’d be like “Wait—what?” So I didn’t want to scare people away with something too sad at the start.
Then, as you go deeper into the album, you get to the sadder songs—like “lie,” “highway,” “not yet.” I wanted the listener to get to know me slowly.
By the end, with “candydate” and “covent garden,” things get a bit more fun again.
And finally, I placed “let it out” as the last track. It’s super different from the rest. It’s more folk, and I wanted it to “clean the ears.”
Like, after all the drama, you can just relax and not think too much.
It’s like a course meal—you start light, go deep, pay the bill, and go home.
“highway” might be dessert. “candydate” is when you see the bill. And “let it out” is when your mom says, “Don’t worry, I’ll pay for it.”
If someone’s listening to you for the first time, which three songs would you recommend?
pami:
Let me pick… four. (laughs)
First, “kiss me blue.” It’s like me in the center. The balance point.
Then, “lie.” That’s a very different side of me. The one that lies to herself, like, “Maybe I do love this person, maybe I’ll do anything for him.”
Next, “call my dad.” That one’s very sarcastic. Like, “Nothing will calm me down—I’m calling my dad.” It’s bratty, in a funny way.
And finally, “highway.” It’s the saddest one. The most vulnerable version of me.
I think it’s okay for girls to feel like that sometimes—weak and soft. I like that about it.
I didn’t choose “pity dirty” even though I love it too. That one’s kind of a secret version of me.
Across two interviews, one thing about pami becomes clear: she writes with a fluffy hand and a sharp heart.
Her debut album sways between sarcasm and sorrow, between jokes and smoke.
Start with “kiss me blue,” then fall into “lie,” spin through “call my dad,” and let “highway” run right through your chest.
She’ll likely surprise you. And just when you think you’ve got her, she’ll puff into smoke—and come back laughing.