Written by Tee Tolmar.
From early SoundCloud uploads to her latest music video for ‘Girls’, New York-based artist Kat Marcella has been on a journey of self-discovery — one that’s taken her through grief, authentic self-expression, and the liberating realisation that she doesn’t need to fit into anyone else’s box. She joins me to discuss her latest release, the reality of being an independent artist in a male-dominated scene, and how her first queer relationship has shaped her art.
Starting off light, I ask Kat to describe her music as a colour and she doesn’t hesitate. Blue. It’s her favourite colour, yes, but the reasoning runs far deeper. “Blue is my true colour because of how it makes me feel,” she explains. “When I make music, I try to make it very honest and raw, and kind of make you feel peace, in the sense that you can relate to what you’re listening to.” Whether it’s an upbeat indie rock track or something slower and more contemplative, there is a sense of tranquillity that threads through her work.
Music wasn’t always Kat’s refuge, though. The death of her father became a catalyst that would ultimately inspire her art, but not before three years of silence. “I just couldn’t function,” she admits. The grief was paralysing, leaving her unable to create. It’s only recently that she’s found herself on the other side of that darkness, rediscovering the fire that initially drew her to music. Now, she’s learned to balance the weight of loss with forward momentum, and her art captures the complexity of human emotion from grief to queer joy. Consuming other art, be it music or films, really helps reignite her passion. “I forget sometimes. I love doing this,” she says, reflecting on those moments of re-inspiration.
Her mother, ironically, doesn’t listen to music much. She matches the Latina stereotype, Kat jokes, reserving it only for cleaning sessions. Still, she did pass something crucial down: a love of rock music. Growing up, Kat was exposed to Joan Jett, Bikini Kill, and Blondie, alongside Shakira’s early indie rock before her pop transformation. “I saw all of these women being rock stars and I was like, we can also do this. It doesn’t have to be a man. I don’t have to be the fan. I can be on stage.” That realisation has proven essential in navigating New York’s music scene, where men still dominate and where women are too often dismissed as glorified groupies rather than serious artists.
Kat found her musical north star in King Krule, discovering him on SoundCloud and Tumblr at thirteen. His experimental approach, raw vocals, and successful navigation of shoegaze, lo-fi and indie rock showed her that it was possible to do things differently and make it work. “Someone’s doing it successfully,” she remembers thinking, something that has stuck with her through years of being told she should be making reggaeton or R&B music solely based on her appearance.
Her latest music video for ‘Girls’ represents perhaps her most vulnerable work yet. The song chronicles her experience of dating women for the first time, of finally accepting a part of herself she’d long suppressed. Growing up Hispanic in a traditional family meant queerness was never an open discussion. “Even now as a young adult, I knew I was going to make this whole video, but [my family] were going to ignore it,” she says with resigned humour. The song emerged from that first liberating moment of going on a date with a girl and realising: there’s nothing wrong with me.
Creating openly queer music, particularly within the Latin LGBTQ community which can feel smaller and more isolated, carries weight. Kat sees it as both representation and authenticity; she refuses to be boxed into expectations whilst proudly claiming all aspects of her identity. Her queerness has unlocked new creative doors too, opening up storytelling beyond heterosexual experiences and allowing her to explore uncomfortable truths about self-acceptance.
The ‘Girls’ music video itself was a carefully constructed labour of love. Kat wrote it scene by scene, working with Director of Photography Michelle Paradise and editor Linferd, two New York based artists she’d met through the music scene. Genuine connection matters to her when building a team, and that pickiness paid off, leading to a deeply enjoyable creative process. The most challenging and rewarding element of the endeavour was one and the same: the dance sequences. “I’m not a dancer,” she admits, “I’m very chill.” But she wanted that scene, wanted to push herself beyond her comfort zone for the sake of the vision. The intimate scenes with Vera, her on-screen love interest and real-life friend, were also very emotionally vulnerable. She reflects on putting that queerness on camera for the world to see: “I can’t deny things about myself anymore.”
Visually, Kat drew inspiration from Kali Uchis’ dreamy, ethereal aesthetic and the dance-heavy videos of Shakira and Addison Rae, blending studio shots with party scenes and high-definition intimacy sequences. What the video captures that the song alone couldn’t is that tension: the gravity of accepting attraction to the same gender, the weight of that realisation. “This is really crazy when you really accept that you like the same gender. This is a big deal for a lot of people.”
Working independently gives Kat the creative control she craves, though it comes with the burden of self-accountability. No one emails asking where the next release is; she has to maintain her own timeline and motivation. Fortunately, that’s not been much of an issue. “The second my music started getting traction, I was like, oh my gosh, this is all I needed. I just needed a few people to be like, ‘we’re listening.’” That response has been enough to fuel her forward, though she remains open to the right label opportunity, if it comes along. She doesn’t want to lose her voice so, if she were to get a label, it would have to be one that values the same things she does, where the interaction feels genuine rather than purely transactional.
She’s acutely aware of the double-edged sword that is social media. She relates to the musicians proclaiming they’re artists, not content creators, whilst also understanding just how much social media can help indie artists in finding their audience. Last month, someone messaged her on TikTok saying they’d been listening to her music on repeat and really resonating with it. “I’ve been that person,” she says, thinking of all the times she’d reached out to smaller artists on Twitter and Tumblr years ago. Knowing people feel that way about her raw, personal output means everything to Kat.
As she continues working on her next project, she’s thinking about how to stay vulnerable whilst growing her audience: how to remain honest without losing herself to song structure requirements or radio-friendliness. Her early SoundCloud uploads were pure diary entries, but now, she’s learning to balance rawness with relatability. “My biggest thing is always being honest,” she insists. “I really like music where it’s like, oh, this is their story.”
Throughout our conversation, it becomes clear that Kat isn’t interested in performing a version of herself that makes others comfortable. She’s here to make indie rock music as a queer Hispanic woman from New York, to tell stories that feel true even when they’re uncomfortable, and to create spaces where others might find their own reflection. And just like the colour blue that defines her work, there’s a serenity in that honesty and a peace that comes from finally, fully, being yourself.
Kat Marcella’s ‘Girls’ is available to stream now and the music video is live on YouTube.
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