NETANYA | INTERVIEW + TRACK REVIEW

Some artists chase genre. Netanya seems more interested in chasing feeling. Pulling from future house, hard dance, hyperpop, R&B and emotionally charged electronic pop, the project exists in this constantly shifting space where vulnerability and intensity collide head-on. Underneath the distorted basslines, euphoric drops and club-ready energy is something much more personal: music built around emotional extremes, connection, chaos and release. Rather than locking into one sound, Netanya has spent years slowly shaping a sonic identity that balances experimentation with accessibility, creating tracks that feel equally suited to late-night headphones and massive sound systems. In this conversation with Lucid News, Netanya opens up about genre-blurring, emotional songwriting inside dance music, anonymous collaborations, artistic evolution, and why the best electronic music should move both the body and whatever’s sitting underneath it. This is a paid collab with Netanya.

TRACK REVIEW - IT AIN'T ME

“It Ain’t Me” opens like stepping into some hyper-futuristic emotional spiral, immediately throwing the listener into a massive soundscape full of movement, tension and anticipation. The stereo panning and layered production slowly tighten and close in before the vocals finally hit, and when they do, the emotional core of the track becomes impossible to ignore. Beneath all the explosive production choices and club energy is something genuinely human. The lyrics carry this feeling of release and emotional separation, finally reaching that point where you stop carrying the weight of someone else’s chaos and simply say: it ain’t me.

What really drives the track though is that pulsating bassline, absolutely huge, pushing the song forward with this euphoric momentum that feels designed for both emotional release and complete sensory overload. Netanya balances hyperpop textures, future house energy and emotional songwriting in a way that never feels forced or overly polished. Instead, the track feels alive, messy, cathartic and strangely empowering all at once. It Ain’t Me captures that rare feeling of letting go of everything weighing you down and finally stepping into a version of yourself that feels free again.

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Your sound pulls from future house, hard dance, hyperpop, and R&B. Do you see these influences as separate worlds you’re blending, or has it all become one language to you now?

It’s always been difficult for me to describe exactly what kind of music I make because it really depends on what I feel inspired to create at the time. That unpredictability is what keeps the music authentic for me. I’ve never wanted to lock myself into one genre or one type of dance music, so I’ve stayed open-minded creatively.

I started out making progressive house, but over time I naturally began incorporating more influences into my sound. That’s probably how hyperpop found its way into the mix. I’d experiment with presets, production techniques, and artists I admired, but the end result never sounded exactly like them — it became its own thing.

Growing up with so many different genres around me blurred the lines creatively. Now it feels less like I’m blending separate worlds and more like I’m speaking one musical language that changes tone depending on what I want to express emotionally.

I’ve experimented with fully hyperpop-oriented projects before, but I also understand that music can become too alienating if there’s no balance. I still want people to connect with the songs. So while I’ll always make experimental records, I also enjoy creating tracks that work in clubs, on radio, or in bigger sound systems. That balance opens more opportunities while still allowing me to stay true to myself.

At the end of the day, I won’t release music unless it’s something I genuinely want on repeat myself — whether that’s on my phone, in the car, or through speakers at home.

 

You’ve worked with both credited and uncredited vocalists across your projects. Does that anonymity change how listeners connect with the music, or how you think about authorship?

It’s been a privilege collaborating with different vocalists over the years — some completely unknown, others more recognisable within the industry. I’ve been fortunate enough to work with artists from both independent and major-label backgrounds because they connected with the vision I had for certain songs.

A lot of people don’t realise how much management structures and label politics can influence collaborations. Some artists prefer privacy, and I respect that completely. In many cases, the decision not to feature someone publicly comes down to respecting their comfort level and how they want to be associated with the project.

For me, collaboration is less about celebrity and more about whether someone emotionally understands the song. At the end of the day, everyone involved is just another creative person trying to make something meaningful.

There’s a tension in your music between high-energy club moments and more emotional, melodic elements. Do you see your tracks as built for the body, the mind, or somewhere in between?

Somewhere in between. I love making music people can physically move to, but I also want there to be emotional weight underneath it. A lot of dance music can sound energetic without actually saying anything emotionally, and I’ve always tried to avoid that.

Even in my harder or more aggressive tracks, there’s usually vulnerability hiding underneath the production — whether that’s through melodies, lyrics, or atmosphere. I think the balance between intensity and emotion is what makes music replayable for me.

After years of releasing singles, what shifted creatively that made you feel ready to commit to a full album statement again?

Every album I’ve released has felt like a long process separated by huge creative gaps, even when the ideas actually started much earlier. After releasing Crave You in 2020, I already had most of the concepts for With You only a few months later. Then after With You released in early 2022, I immediately began working on another project.

Around that time I was producing tracks like “Fascination” alongside several future house and tech house songs that ultimately didn’t make the album. By 2023, I hadn’t released a single in over a year because I was struggling to fully finish tracks, even though I had plenty of ideas.

“Fascination” became the turning point creatively. I knew it was special early on, so I invested heavily into promoting it, especially around the Your Shot DJ competition in Australia. I wanted to maximise every opportunity around that release. It eventually entered Spotify Pulse charts in Sydney and Perth, which was incredibly rewarding considering how difficult it is for independent artists to break through.

At one stage, Without You almost became an album full of “Fascination”-style tracks, but over time I realised I wanted more diversity and emotional range in the project. Extending the process allowed songs like “Meant to Be” to exist, which pushed further into hard dance and Eurodance territory while still feeling emotional and accessible.

I think that extra time ultimately made the album stronger. It became heavier, more refined, and more confident sonically than my previous records.

Tracks like “It Ain’t Me” feel very immediate and impactful. Do you approach certain songs as standout moments, or do they naturally reveal themselves during the process?

They usually reveal themselves naturally.

I tend to go through genre phases where I’ll focus on a certain style for a period of time rather than building strict concept albums. The original demo for “It Ain’t Me” is actually around six years old. It came from a phase where I wanted to make fast disco-inspired dance music, and it just happened to become one of the first songs from that group that felt polished enough to release.

When finishing Without You, only five tracks were actually complete at the start of the year, so I ended up working on seven songs simultaneously over a couple of months. It was intense, but I knew people had already waited long enough for the album.

Certain tracks naturally emerged as bigger moments because I spent more time refining them emotionally and sonically. Songs like “Fascination”, “Meant to Be”, “It Ain’t Me”, and “Wait Up” became standout tracks because I pushed harder creatively on those records. I don’t intentionally design “big moments” — they usually become obvious during the process.

You’ve built momentum steadily — radio play, charts, live sets. At what point did it stop feeling like experimentation and start feeling like identity?

Before my first album in 2020, I mostly viewed music as experimentation. I was just trying to make the best music I could with limited resources and experience.

“King of My Castle” was the first song that really changed things for me because it received community radio support across Australia and reached #6 on the AMRAP Metro Charts. That was a huge moment because it wasn’t a niche genre chart — it was broader community radio recognition.

Over time, I started noticing patterns in how people connected with my music. Songs like “Meant to Be” charting multiple times on AMRAP confirmed that listeners understood the direction I was taking creatively.

I think identity came from consistently evolving rather than repeating myself. My earlier work leaned more experimental and hyperpop-inspired, whereas the newer material balances chaos with accessibility in a more refined way.

 

Hyperpop and hard dance can both feel intense in different ways. How do you decide when to push something to the edge versus when to pull it back?

I’ve always wanted my music to remain accessible even when it’s experimental. Radio stations and wider audiences generally responded more strongly to my dance records than the more extreme hyperpop material, so over time I learned how to balance those elements more carefully.

Crave You was intentionally broad and experimental because it collected ideas from years of making music between 2014 and 2020. But by the time I was producing With You, I became more focused on creating songs that felt commercially cohesive without sacrificing personality.

That album balanced melodic dance music with maximalist pop and avant-garde influences. The first half was more accessible, while the second half became increasingly experimental.

With Without You, I leaned further into the sounds I personally wanted to hear in modern dance music — future house, Brazilian bass, hard dance, recession-pop influences, hyperpop textures, and emotional song writing all combined together. Some tracks push further into chaos, while others intentionally pull back to create contrast and recovery moments.

Being a DJ as well as a producer, do you hear your songs first as something to be experienced live, or as something to sit with personally?

Ideally both.

I’d love for most of my songs to eventually be experienced live in bigger environments because that’s how a lot of the energy is designed. But I also want the songs to hold emotional value when someone listens alone with headphones or driving at night.

Right now I haven’t had as many live opportunities as I’d like because I’ve been balancing music with work and study, but performing more is definitely something I want to expand on in the future.

There’s a strong sense of collaboration across your work. What do you look for in a voice or artist that makes you want to bring them into your world?

I usually work with highly skilled studio vocalists who understand emotion and delivery really well. However, I'm open to anyone who sounds good as well. Even though I write all of my songs myself, I’m open to creative suggestions and interpretation during the consulting and recording process.

What matters most to me is whether someone emotionally understands the atmosphere of the song. Technical ability matters, but the seeming emotional connection (for optics) matters more.

If someone listens to your latest album from start to finish, what do you hope they understand about you that they wouldn’t get from a single track?

I’d want them to understand that Without You isn’t just aggressive or chaotic for the sake of it. Underneath the hard-hitting synths, distorted basslines, and saturated vocals, there’s still vulnerability and emotional release.

The album moves between future house, Brazilian bass, hard dance, synthpop, hyperpop, and even R&B influences, but there’s still a consistent emotional thread throughout it all. It’s intense in places, but it also has calm recovery moments because I think energy needs contrast to feel meaningful.

More than anything, I want people to understand that the album reflects emotional extremes honestly — wanting connection, chasing intensity, feeling overwhelmed, and still trying to find beauty within all of it.