CIFIKA on Breaking Her Own Mold and Building Something New

By. Alicia Zamora

CIFIKA Is Stepping Outside Her Own Boundaries

Meet CIFIKA through this exclusive interview for Alicia’s Studio, where she opens up about her latest project Bonfire and the emotional shift that shaped it. What begins as a conversation about genre quickly expands into something more personal—touching on creative fatigue, identity, and what it means to rebuild a sound from the inside out.

After nearly eight years in electronic music, CIFIKA describes reaching a point where her process started to feel repetitive rather than evolving. Patterns began to emerge in her work—similar chord structures, familiar textures, and repeated habits she could no longer ignore.

“I started noticing patterns in my music… it felt like I was stuck in a loop.”

That realization didn’t immediately change her direction, but it did change her relationship to her own process.

Instead of continuing alone, CIFIKA made a decision that quietly reshaped the entire project—she brought in collaborators and stepped away from total control.

Working with Nancy Boy and Umaka shifted Bonfire from a planned EP into a full-length record. The expansion wasn’t strategic—it happened naturally as the ideas grew beyond what she had initially imagined.

For the first time in a long time, her role became more focused and less all-encompassing, especially around vocals and emotional direction.

“I wanted to break free from the boundaries I felt within myself.”

That shift forced her into unfamiliar creative territory, where trust became just as important as instinct.

At its core, Bonfire is built around ideas of isolation, belonging, and shared presence.

Rather than approaching those themes abstractly, CIFIKA rooted them in imagery—gathering, voices in one space, and emotional proximity between people who might otherwise feel distant.

In tracks like “Babes in the Wood,” she explores how perception can distort identity, especially for artists navigating public expectation.

The title track became the clearest expression of that intention. Friends were invited into the chorus recording, turning the song into something collective rather than individual.

“It felt like a celebration of the bonds that sustain us.”

The result is a project that doesn’t aim for perfection, but for emotional honesty in shared space.

“Little Drama” became one of the most experimental moments on the album, blending electronic foundations with rock energy and psychedelic layering.

What began as a simple idea quickly evolved into something more abstract and instinct-driven.

Tribal percussion, distorted guitars, and layered synth textures came together in a way that felt less like structure and more like movement.

“I didn’t want it to feel clean. I wanted it to feel alive.”

That approach reflects a larger shift in the project—leaning into imperfection rather than refining it away.

Working with Nancy Boy and Umaka didn’t just shape the sound of Bonfire—it reshaped how CIFIKA approached decision-making altogether.

Nancy Boy brought precision and structure, while Umaka introduced a more emotional and fluid musical language. Together, they challenged her usual workflow in ways that weren’t always comfortable.

There were moments where CIFIKA resisted changes to her original ideas, but over time, that tension became part of the process rather than something to avoid.

“They forced me to approach songwriting differently… it felt like shedding an old shell.”

That discomfort ultimately became one of the defining forces behind the album.

The Seoul live session marked the first time Bonfire was fully realized in a live environment.

Performed with a six-piece band and staged in a 360-degree setup, the experience removed the separation between performer and audience.

Live instrumentation reshaped the songs in real time, adding weight and immediacy that couldn’t exist in studio versions alone.

“It felt like the bonfire imagery had come to life in that room.”

The performance reframed the album not as a finished product, but as something living and reactive.

Isolation, Identity, and Reconnection

Throughout the conversation, CIFIKA returns to a central tension: the gap between how artists are perceived and what they actually experience.

Living and working in Seoul, she reflects on how visibility often replaces understanding, especially in creative spaces shaped by social perception.

That disconnect fed directly into the emotional foundation of Bonfire.

Before the project, she describes a period of isolation that quietly influenced much of the writing process. But as the album developed, collaboration slowly replaced that distance with connection.

“Through this album, I found a new sense of family and community.”

Compared to ION, CIFIKA describes Bonfire as less about technical experimentation and more about emotional storytelling.

Where earlier work focused heavily on electronic precision, this project leans into imperfection, space, and human presence.

Rather than framing it as a reinvention, she sees it as a natural progression.

“It reflects my growth in embracing imperfection and storytelling.”

The shift feels ongoing rather than final—an open direction rather than a defined endpoint.

Looking ahead, CIFIKA is focused on continued exploration rather than refinement of a fixed identity.

New genres, unfamiliar collaborators, and expanded creative formats are all part of what she wants to pursue next.

There is also interest in revisiting earlier experimental ideas in new forms, including performance-based and installation-driven work.

For now, Bonfire stands as a transitional space—between solitude and collaboration, control and surrender, structure and openness.

If Bonfire carries a central idea, it is not resolution but gathering.

A space where sound becomes shared, and where uncertainty is something to sit with rather than resolve.

As CIFIKA describes it:

Let’s gather around, share untold stories, sing together, and listen to each other’s hearts.