Genre-Blurring and Boundary-Free: Maya Kuriel’s Honest Path in Music
By. Alicia Zamora
In this exclusive with Alicia’s Studio, we caught up with Maya Kuriel, a Korean American pop artist based in Los Angeles who’s quietly building her own lane in today’s crowded pop scene. Maya’s music carries both playfulness and depth—songs that can make you move while also pulling you into her world of reflection and vulnerability. With three singles out this year, she treats each release as its own statement, yet hints at something larger unfolding: a story she’s telling piece by piece.
Maya’s connection to music goes back to her teenage years. At sixteen, she started writing and experimenting with sounds as a way to process her thoughts. What started as a private outlet soon became something she couldn’t walk away from. She admits nostalgia is always close by, shaping her perspective as she grows—her music often balancing that pull of memory with the urge to move forward. It’s this tension that gives her songs their emotional weight.
Maya’s path has been shaped by one thing: independence. No label breathing down her neck, no checklist of what a pop song “should” sound like. She likes it that way. It gives her space to chase ideas that might not make sense to anyone else until the song is done. Sometimes that means writing through colors—she’ll describe a track as blue or gold before she ever talks about the beat. Other times it means leaning into a lyric that feels a little too raw, because if it stings her, it’ll probably reach someone else too.
What she really wants is connection. Not streams, not charts—just to make people feel something. Maybe that’s joy, maybe it’s nostalgia, maybe it’s that ache you don’t see coming until the song hits. Her music moves between confession and celebration, often in the same track. That’s where her strength lies. She’s not afraid of risk, she’s not afraid of honesty, and as her catalog grows, she’s slowly carving out her own corner of pop—alive, unpredictable, and entirely hers.
Diving In
Maya: I'm Maya Kuriel. I'm a Korean American pop artist based in LA. I'm originally from Seattle, Washington. I've been in LA for about seven years, and I mainly make pop music. I've dabbled in a bunch of different subgenres, but yeah, I'm really excited to be here today. Excited to have a conversation.
Alicia: When you think of your artistry as a first impression, what do you hope someone feels before they even try to define it?
Maya: I love this question. Honestly, a big motivator for me when creating music is that I just want the listener to feel something new. I don’t want it to feel like, Oh, I’ve heard this before. That’s the main thing for me—I want it to feel new and fresh. That’s definitely what I would say for new listeners.
Alicia: You’ve released three tracks this year — do you see them as stand-alone pieces or as a thread weaving a bigger story?
Maya: I feel like a little bit of both. Every song is definitely a stand-alone piece and can stand on its own—they’re all strong in different ways. But I also try to weave them together to tell a grander story and perspective. At the same time, the three songs reach very different audiences. Some people gravitate toward the darker stuff, some toward the lighter, more upbeat tracks. So yeah, I’d say a little of both.
Alicia: What’s something you’ve never said in an interview that actually explains who you are as an artist?
Maya: Ooh, that’s a good one. Maybe the first thing that comes to mind is that I don’t really remember ever consciously deciding, I’m going to pursue music. It always felt subconscious. I have videos of me singing at four years old in little butterfly wings, singing on camera. When I was 10, my parents booked me a recording studio session for my birthday. When I turned 16, I started recording some of my own stuff. So it was like little seeds being planted along the way, and subconsciously, I think I just knew this was my passion. There was never really a moment of, I’m going to start putting out music. It was always kind of there in the back of my head.
Alicia: So when did you officially start music? Like, when did you say, Oh, this is my path—this is what I want to do?
Maya: At 16, I put out two songs—I think they’re scrubbed from the internet now, thank God. That’s when I first started writing seriously. I’d been writing throughout my childhood, but 16 was when I actually put out work for the first time.
Alicia: Moving into World Spinning. Nights that blur into memory are at the heart of the song. Do you think those nights feel bigger in the moment, or only when you look back?
Maya: I feel like only when I look back. And I hate that I think that, because I’m such a nostalgic person and have trouble being present. My mom always says, “Maya, you’re either living in the future or the past—you’re hardly ever in the present.” So yeah, I struggle with just being here. Looking back, everything feels bigger and grander. I miss those memories and wish I had realized how special they were in the moment. But yeah, looking back, I see it for what it was. I just wish I could identify that while it was happening.
Alicia: Same here. For me, it’s like specific years—like 2018 to 2020. Those are the ones I look back on. The rest is kind of, ehh.
The chorus reaches for the sky—if that moment had a color, what would it be?
Maya: I would say blue—of course the sky is blue—but also green and purple. Very pastel colors. I love putting colors to music when I’m writing. I can see them pretty clearly. So yeah, light green, light blue, light purple.
Alicia: Oh, interesting. So when you say you see the color, does that also help with how you picture the cover art or the shoot?
Maya: Yeah, definitely. Usually I see it in my head before, and then when we shoot the visuals, it aligns. My best friend Peyton shoots a lot of my cover art and visuals. She’s super creative and also writes with me, so we’re usually thinking of the visuals as we’re writing. In a way, it’s like a head start. Then we figure out, Okay, what’s feasible? How can we execute this in a budget-friendly way? Since I’m still independent, that part matters.
Alicia: Awesome. You describe chasing déjà vu. Is there a moment in your life you’d risk reliving, even if it meant breaking the present?
Maya: Breaking the present sounds scary. I’d probably say no, because I don’t think I’d want to risk that. But if I had to choose, I’d probably say elementary school—running on the playground, being in school without anxiety or worries, before negativity set in. I remember playing with Polly Pockets and Barbies, and that time feels so nostalgic. But no, I wouldn’t break the present. I think it’s best to keep moving forward.
Alicia: If World Spinning was a film scene, what would be playing on screen while it played in the background?
Maya: Oh, this kind of goes back to what we said earlier about seeing the visuals before. I’d say a montage of friends hanging out, having the best night ever—bonfires, carnivals, the beach—just the happiest moments of someone’s life. That’s definitely the vibe. And because World Spinning has that universal, worldly feel, maybe a travel montage too—showing the most beautiful places on the planet. I’d love to see the song in a movie. That’s such a dream for me.
Alicia: Your music often walks the line between fun and confession. How do you decide when a song should celebrate and when it should confess?
Maya: Oh, I love that question. I try to look at all perspectives when I’m writing. Whether it’s fun or confessional, I want to reach both places. I went to music school—the Musicians Institute in Hollywood—and in my songwriting class one of the key takeaways was: every section of a song should add something new, whether that’s a perspective or information. I think that’s stuck with me. I love to play with the dark and the light, or the fun and the confessional. That’s the most exciting part. I don’t ever want my songs to feel one-sided. I want them to carry different perspectives so everybody can find something that resonates.
Alicia: How long does it usually take you to write a song?
Maya: Sometimes 30 minutes. For example, I had a ballad called Helpless that just poured out of me in half an hour. But other times, especially in sessions, it can take four hours, or even multiple days if we’re rewriting. So it really depends.
Alicia: Okay, nice. And what about the recording process? Is it one take and you’re good, or is it more like, one more, one more?
Maya: At the beginning—like back in 2020 when I first started releasing my artist project—I was doing so many takes. Like 25-plus per section because I felt like I had to get it exactly right. Now, I’ve realized I don’t need that many. These days, it’s probably around 10 good takes per section. Then my producer comps them together, picking the best moments from each. I’ve definitely gotten faster, but I’m still a bit of a perfectionist. I even get mic fright sometimes, especially if it’s the only day we booked for vocals. But I try to stay present and emotional, so the delivery feels real.
Alicia: Yeah. I’ve been going to the studio a lot recently with my friends, and I’ll watch how many takes they do. To me, it sounds so good already, but they’re like, Nope, not done yet. Thirty tries later, still going. I’m just like, What? It’s so crazy to see how different artists work.
Maya: That’s wild. Every process is different. When I record, my producers often tell me I’m super consistent—like most of my takes sound really similar. And I’ll still be like, No, it’s not good enough. (laughs). But honestly, I try not to pressure myself into chasing the “perfect” take, because art is never really finished. The recording process can be tough, but I’ve definitely gotten faster. I’m still learning.
Alicia: Do you write songs to remember, or to forget?
Maya: To remember, for sure. I feel things very deeply—I’m a Pisces. I never forget. You can forgive, but you can’t forget. For me, writing is about remembering. Putting it down on paper gives me a little closure. I don’t think I ever really forget, but it’s a good outlet to capture that feeling and remind myself where I was at that time.
Alicia: When a lyric is too honest, do you lean into it — or do you soften it for the sake of letting others in?
Maya: Ooh, that’s a good one. I try to lean into it, but I’m also still learning to pick and choose what to share. Some things are really vulnerable, and even if people could relate, I ask myself: Do I want this living on the internet forever? So I’d say a little bit of both.
Alicia: Yeah, no, I think being vulnerable is really scary. Sometimes when I write—not just reviews, but my own stuff—I ask myself, Is this the best thing to share? Because people are going to see it, read it, and it’s like… wait, what am I doing?
Maya: Exactly. I always think about digital footprint. As a writer, it’s hard to know what you should share and what you should keep for yourself. The internet is forever. I try to be as honest as possible, but I don’t give away too many details. Sometimes I have to tone it down.
Alicia: If your creative process was a place — not a studio, but a landscape — where would it be?
Maya: I’d say a beautiful beach. I also grew up in Seattle, so maybe a Pacific Northwest forest—minus the bugs. Just the forest without bugs would be perfect.
Alicia: Does writing a song heal the wound, or does it just name it?
Maya: I’d definitely say it names it. For some people, writing might heal, but for me, it just puts a name to it and gives me some closure. It’s internal—I’m not talking to the person I’m writing about—so it’s closure for myself, not the whole situation. I wish it healed, but really it just names it and maybe puts it to rest.
Alicia: Nostalgia pulses through this track. Do you think nostalgia is a gift or a trap?
Maya: To me, it’s a gift. Some people might see it as a trap, because living too much in nostalgia isn’t always healthy. But I feel like it’s a gift to even be able to remember. Some people don’t have that access, so I see it as something special.
Alicia: You’ve written about love, loss, and devotion. Which one still feels unfinished — like you’re circling back to it in every song?
Maya: Probably loss. That’s a common theme in my music. But I also think love feels unfinished. I’m in a healthy long-term relationship, but I struggle to write about it without sounding corny. Sad music comes easier to me. So I’m experimenting with writing about love in a way that feels real, not cheesy. I’d say love and loss are both unfinished for me.
Alicia: When you listen back to your songs years later, do you think you’ll hear your younger self clearly, or will she sound like a stranger?
Maya: I think about this a lot. Honestly, when I listen to my stuff from 2020 or 2021, it sounds like a stranger. I know it’s me, I recognize my voice, but it feels like a younger version—like “her,” not me. I almost separate that person from who I am now. I don’t always remember her mindset. Maybe I blocked it out. It’s strange, but it feels like I’m listening to another person.
Alicia: That’s so real. I’m the same way. For me, it’s certain years—like 2022 to 2023. I look back and think, Who was that? That wasn’t me.
Maya: What were you doing before?
Alicia: Honestly, I was just in school. I wanted to be a lawyer. But in 2024, in my dorm, I realized, No, I can’t do this. I’ve always had a big passion for writing and music. I don’t know if you know the band Wave to Earth, but I went to their first U.S. tour in August. That concert sparked something in me. I knew I couldn’t keep going down the lawyer path—it wasn’t what I wanted.
Maya: Oh my god. So you knew you wanted something more creative?
Alicia: Yeah. I already graduated college, but I’m going back for my Master’s—probably in communications or something related to public relations.
Maya: I love that. I’m glad you had that experience at a show that woke you up. Everything happens for a reason, and it’s cool that you had that sudden change of heart.
Alicia: Yeah, that’s how I feel. I always tell people how much Wave to Earth inspired me to start all of this.
Alicia: If someone could only describe your music with one word, what word would you hope they choose?
Maya: In another interview, someone described it as “genre-blurring,” and I thought that was the coolest compliment. They couldn’t label it, and I loved that. That’s how I want people to feel when they hear my music for the first time—that they can’t put it in a box.
Alicia: Decades from now, if someone discovers you for the first time, what do you hope they carry with them after pressing play?
Maya: I hope they carry permission to feel deeply—to fall apart, to rebuild, to feel everything at once. I never want people to feel like they can’t do that. I want my music to be an escape, and a reminder that it’s okay to feel it all.
Alicia: How does being independent feel for you? Budget-wise, everything is you.
Maya: I definitely see it as a positive. Of course, the long-term goal is to have label-level resources, but right now everything is out of pocket, and I think that’s what makes it special. I still have complete creative freedom—no one’s telling me how to roll out a song, what I should wear, or what my visuals should look like. For me, that’s what artistry is. If someone stripped that away, I’d be devastated. So I’m savoring this independence while I have it, because I know things can change quickly.
Alicia: Yeah, I’ve been doing PR for some independent artists, and one of them used to be signed. He told me he’d rather stay independent than ever go back to a label, because he felt like all his creative freedom was gone. I always thought labels gave you everything—shows, listeners, visibility—but hearing his experience, it’s a lot more complicated.
Maya: Exactly. Labels can open doors, but it always comes at a price. I’ve seen friends get trapped in deals that stripped them of the very thing they built themselves. Not every label is bad, but it happens more than people realize. That’s why, when the time comes, I’ll be very cautious about what I sign. For now, I’m grateful to just make my own decisions without “the big dogs” trying to take away what I’ve worked so hard for.
Alicia: Ending the interview off, is there anything you’d like to say to the people who listen to your music?
Maya: Love you the most. Truly. I’ve been doing this for five years, and I finally feel like I’m finding my sound. The messages I get from listeners make me feel seen, and that’s the best part. The fact that people connect with my music—even without a label or budget behind me it means the world. I’m so grateful for everyone who’s been supporting me.