Sarah Kinsley wears her heart on her sleeve. Just minutes after we sit down for a Sichuan lunch at Breeze in Greenpoint, she’s already telling me about a recent conversation with her therapist. It’s this earnestness that makes her music magic—a classically trained, synth-infused, unabashed honesty, fearlessly putting it all on the line, type of magic.
She’s among a cohort of Gen Z artists (think: Clairo, Billie Eilish, and Conan Gray) that have paved a new pathway to musical success. At just 20 years old, she went viral on TikTok with the instrumental intro to her song “The King.” Her origins speak to a uniquely Gen Z experience of the freedoms of adolescence being interrupted by a global pandemic. Desperate for tangible connection but forced to find it online.
Five years of living in New York City later, she’s finding her footing in real life. Her frontal lobe is developed and she’s beginning to reconcile childhood expectations of love and relationships with what’s healthy for her now at 25. Through the therapeutic paths of traditional talk therapy and the songwriting pen, she’s worked through the woes of love that’s all-consuming, and has found peace with the ephemerality of life—a peace that’s palpable on her newest EP, Fleeting.
Flora Medina: What were the inspirations for Fleeting?
Sarah Kinsley: I’ve lived in New York for a while now, but this is the first year where I really feel like it’s properly my home. This EP was born out of really exciting, kind of crazy, beautiful nights that I had in the city, either with strangers or people I love. I was in this kind of daunting period of not knowing what I wanted to do or where I wanted to be. It was really grounding to have those experiences, knowing they’re all temporary. I was hesitating a lot less to do things and that brought me so much joy.
Do you have a favorite live music venue in New York?
I’ve recently been really enjoying shows at Nightclub 101. I love Baby’s. I love Nowadays, I was there over the weekend. I love that space so much, I feel like they’ve done really magical stuff there. Good people too.
Did you notice a turning point where you started hesitating less?
Part of it was turning 25, maybe it was part of the whole frontal lobe development thing. I went through this insane breakup. I think there are certain romantic experiences you have, or even platonic ones, that make you feel like truly nothing could be worse. I find it grounding in a weird sense. It kind of revitalizes you, makes you return to yourself because you literally have to. I tend to rely on romantic experiences to guide me through life, which can become detrimental. It was a year of returning to myself and trying to make art outside of music that I could actually stand by and fully be myself in. Maybe that influenced the music as well, just being more transparent or forward. My lyrical writing has become a lot more honest in ways that I wasn’t able to do before.
How were you thinking about love when you started working on the EP, and how did that change by the time it was finished?
It’s really strange. I always had this sense that if I was in love I couldn’t be a good artist. I don’t really know where it came from. I grew up studying classical music, and I feel like none of the women composers I really looked up to were married. Or there was a clear delineation between choosing your career or a more traditional path. Or, you’re not a part of society at all and you’re gay and you have a lover in a cottage or something. That’s maybe the most ideal version of it. I had this misconception for a long time that I couldn’t do both, be in love and be an artist. I want to give my everything to things, be it love or art. I thought I had to choose. Now I’m trying to believe there’s room for a balance, that things don’t have to consume you for them to work.
What were you playing with musically while making the EP?
I was experimenting with more of an electronic sound than I had been used to. I was trying to go further with a lot of analog gear and things that I’m uncomfortable with. What really excited me was using these analog synths where there’s no “undo button.” There’s no way to save a sound unless you record it. There’s things we recorded that are amazing, but we can never recreate it. I think there’s something really exciting about that, because we live in a time where literally every single thing is replicable. Hardware like that really forces you to be so deeply unafraid.
Did you always want to be a musician?
For the first 10 years of my life I had aspirations for literally everything, but music was the only thing that I did constantly because I was sort of forced to. In my teenage years I started singing sort of quietly to myself. I remember writing in a journal about how I wanted to be a musician, and I read part of it to my parents.They laughed because they had just never heard me sing, ever. I was so upset, I cried and ran off in the rain, it was very melodramatic.
It wasn’t until college that I was actually around people who were really doing it. I started to really fall in love with the idea of making it happen, but I don’t think I really believed it was possible until that long ago, honestly. I don’t think I really realized it was possible until the day I was playing for a crowd for the first time.
What was that first show?
We booked a show at the Mercury Lounge, December 9th, 2021. Things were just reopening after COVID. We were so scared the show would get cancelled or my team would get stuck in the UK. It was very hectic and I hadn’t been to a concert in so long, and this was my first show at a proper venue in New York. It was an amazing show, it was honestly one of the greatest feelings ever.
I had such imposter syndrome immediately after because of COVID and the way my career started. I always thought I would sort of move through the New York nightlife scene, work my way up through all the different venues. Then the internet granted me this ability to just start there. I felt like there was a piece of the ladder that I missed. It was a strange way to begin but I’m grateful for it for sure.
Do you still have imposter syndrome at all?
Sometimes. I think the internet just makes it difficult. For better or worse, it’s made us constantly see a reflection of ourselves. As an artist I’ve struggled with blocking out the noise and getting back to that unaffected state where you can just create, regardless of the outcome. It’s weird sharing music on the internet because you’re trying to use this weird metal box as the vessel to be like, “No, there’s something amazing we might both feel, and I want to communicate it in a way that has nothing to do with language and nothing to do with algorithm or binaries.” And the only way I can do it is through something that only has to do with those things.
SARAH KINSLEY’S THOUGHTS ON DATING
What’s your dream date?
My dream date happened recently. I went to a really nice Australian cafe in the morning, and then went to a cat cafe right after, even though I’m allergic to cats. We took a long walk along the water in Brooklyn Heights, and almost took the ferry back, which would’ve made it the ultimate dream date.
What are you ordering for the table?
It has to be food that you don’t feel horrendous eating in front of someone else, sharing fries or a heavily dressed caesar salad could be good, depending on where you are.
What’s your go-to drink?
I used to love a negroni but right now I’m really into an extra dirty gin martini, or a french 75. Anything with gin, really.
If your type was a dessert, what would it be?
For a long time it was tiramisu. I just love tiramisu, but there’s something about it, maybe the coffee. It’s a little bit elegant, but there’s more to it than meets the eye. There’s layers, something more hiding underneath.