In Conversation: hoxie rae on Rage, Healing, and Finding Her Voice in the Wreckage

She answers emails promptly. She’s thoughtful, almost studious in her responses. But catching her between studio sessions, travel plans, and the ongoing work of reconstructing a self that was systematically dismantled? That required patience. When we finally connect, it’s clear the wait was worth it. What emerges is a portrait of an artist using music as archaeology—excavating years of conditioning, gaslighting, and people-pleasing to find the person she was never allowed to be.

Her story begins in 2020, in a cramped East Village apartment, with a woman who didn’t think she could sing belting out songs at full volume anyway. It accelerates through family trauma, a Post-it note from a stranger, and the slow, painful work of learning to trust herself. Drawing from the lineage of Amy Winehouse, Etta James, and Ma Rainey—women who sang their truths without apology—hoxie rae is building her own vocabulary for anger, grief, and the complicated liberation that comes after. We talked about trauma and transformation, the cost of outgrowing relationships, and what it means to honor anger without drowning in it. This is that conversation.


Hi hoxie, it’s a real pleasure to speak with you! In 2020, you started writing music, living in a tiny flat in East Village, with complete chaos in your head, no self-confidence whatsoever, but something made you belt out songs at full volume. And then one day you step into the corridor, and there’s a note hanging on the door from your neighbour: “You sound good – keep going”. And now, several years later, you’re releasing “Best of Luck” – a track where you literally tell everyone to fuck off with regal confidence. Between that girl who was afraid and this woman who isn’t afraid of anyone anymore – what specifically broke inside you that made you stop giving people chances?

Thank you for having me:) Honestly? I went through a traumatic event with my family and was gaslit to the point that I had to redefine my own world. When I started belting out songs in my tiny apartment,  I started to find the beauty in the unknown. I was always taught to keep quiet, keep the peace.  I started thinking, what would happen if I was loud? What would happen if I just did what was best for me? Over the years, I’ve slowly come into my own and it’s been extremely cathartic for me after a lifetime of giving the wrong people too much power. I have a lot of empathy for the person singing in that apartment, and whenever I doubt myself, I try to remember that important note I found after taking a risk to try to heal. It changed me. 

hoxie rae – a beautifully crafted pseudonym. “Hoxie” is your paternal grandmother, who once seemed like a frightening woman to you, but has now become a source of strength. “Rae” – a childhood nickname, a connection to that little girl for whom you’re doing all of this. It’s quite interesting – you took the name of someone who scared you and made it your shield. What specifically about your grandmother frightened you then, and what about her gives you strength now? Perhaps these are the same qualities, but you understand them differently now?

My grandmother was incredibly strong-willed. She really had that “do not f- with me” energy and for someone like me, especially as a kid, I was scared of her autonomy and the way she really didn’t seem to care about other people and what they thought. It was difficult for me to wrap my head around because it was so deeply engrained in me to trust everyone except for myself. I try very hard to channel her energy when I feel doubtful or afraid because she would definitely tell me to just totally go for it. She could sing too, and though she’s no longer here with me, I feel her with me every time I’m on stage.

You mention amongst your influences Amy Winehouse, Ma Rainey, Etta James, Sharon Jones – all these incredibly strong women who sang their truth without looking back at what others might say. They were painfully honest, sometimes it destroyed them, but their music remains forever. You say “There is a lot of rage in these songs” – and it’s palpable. How do you plan to manage this fury in the long term? After all, anger can be powerful fuel for creativity, but it can also burn you from within.

I completely agree, and I try my best to balance my rage with healing. What I’ve realized throughout my journey is that through my rage, there is usually sadness behind it. I need to reach through the anger in order to get there, but sometimes I do like to honor my rage. I used to think being angry was a bad thing, I shouldn’t express that. But that was just conditioning. I believe anger can be healthy, so long as there is growth behind it. I cannot, and I will not just sit in anger and not do anything about it. I need growth, and my anger is a tell-tale sign that I’m on my way there if I honor it appropriately.

Your brand new single “Heal” feels like a quiet, soulful revolution — less about rage, more about release. You sing, “I cannot blame myself for the things you do.” Was there a particular turning point that helped you realize that truth and write from that place of clarity?

I think writing heal was when I really started to paint the picture of my part in my pain. I would often subconsciously blame myself for other people’s behavior, or think that if I just do this right, or say the right thing, or act different, maybe things will change. I realized that I was taking on problems that I never caused, and that in itself was freeing. Although it hurts, letting go and realizing that their actions are not a reflection of me, it genuinely opened up my world to the freedom behind that.

Best of Luck” isn’t screamo, isn’t punk, isn’t aggressive rap. You chose a completely different path – slow, seductive revenge over hypnotic piano and minimalist beats, whilst the track sounds rather cinematic. This reminds me of Billie Eilish or FKA twigs’ approach. How did the recording of this track happen? Did you already know straight away how it would all sound, or did everything gradually come together during recording?

Actually, it was completely impulsive. I was driving from Atlanta to New York when I realized that I needed to get in the studio and see what came out, as I was in a bit of a freeze state. This session particularly catapulted me in a way where I felt safer with my emotions in knowing that something good could come out of it, so long as I am honest with myself. It was probably the first time I stopped protecting everyone else and I wrote about how I felt without thinking. It’s about the messaging for me, and it was the first time in a long time that I just went in, wrote and sang my truth with a careful direction in keeping a dark undertone. Not too much overthinking. Just going for it. 

You live in New York, in East Village – a neighbourhood literally created for artists. Every day someone releases new music there, every week new faces, new stories. Some think only about how to outdo competitors, others pay no attention whatsoever to what others are doing. Is competition with other artists important to you, or do you not think about it at all?

I don’t think about competition because I really do believe every person creating art has their own authentic messaging and way of operating. I try my best to embrace any community that embraces authenticity- if it’s New York or New Orleans, I feel my most authentic self. I try my best to learn as much as I can and create a space that feels safe for other people. I don’t have room to compete with anyone except for myself, so it’s important for me to always take the approach of ‘how can i learn or grow from this?’

“Heal” feels like the first real breath after holding it in for too long. The organ groove and your vocal delivery are so intimate, like you’re confiding in yourself. What did recording that track feel like for you in the moment — emotionally, physically, spiritually?

It felt freeing, because I realized that it’s been my choice to carry the weight of other people’s mistakes. It is not mine to hold. This song was a direct reflection of realizing that, and sticking to it. Stopping the pattern of blaming myself. It was emotional at first, but then incredibly cathartic for me. I can carry my own actions now. Not anyone else’s. 

“Best of Luck” is already your second single, the first was the track “2006”. But the music industry has its rules – labels and producers love it when an artist finds their formula and sticks to it. How do you feel about the idea of finding your formula for success? Are you ready to repeat what worked, or is it more important for you to constantly experiment?

I’m ready for both! I think it’s important to stick with what works, and my foundation will always come from soul music, so I try not to get too mixed up in one extreme or the other, because it’s a growing process for me. I hope that people like my work, but I will always listen to the voice inside me when it comes to music, and if I’m honest, I don’t exactly know I will sound even a year from now because every time I write and record, I grow. I’m excited for what I’m creating and embracing the unknown. 

When someone goes through such a transformation as yours – from an insecure girl to a strong artist – it usually affects all relationships. Old friends sometimes don’t understand the changes, family can react differently, new people appear. How have your loved ones responded to your changes? Do they support the new you, or does someone miss the old version of hoxie?

I’ve had to cut ties with a lot of people throughout my life because it was very clear to me that the only thing holding the relationship up was my insecurity and over-giving nature. They are not sustainable relationships for me anymore because I am too embedded in my own values and what I bring to the table. I love very deeply, and it’s been very hard for me to realize the way not everyone is reciprocal in that way. I have a close-knit circle of family and friends that I can always rely on, but that’s not to say I haven’t been faced with the inevitable- which is that I’ve had to let a lot of relationships go due to the changes within myself. I wish everyone well on their journey, but I understand that sometimes people can’t always swallow who I’ve become. And honestly? That’s something that is too valuable for me to take away from myself. 

Let’s step away from music. You live in New York – a city that never sleeps, where something happens every day. After everything you’ve been through, after you started rebuilding yourself anew, has your attitude towards simple things changed? Towards walks around the city, towards morning coffee, towards conversations with strangers? Actually, I’m curious to know what your ordinary day looks like when you’re not writing music and not working on projects? 

I actually was traveling quite a bit for about two years and I spend a lot of my time continuing to try to take trips when I can. When I’m not working, an average day for me is coffee, writing, learning about something whether it’s history or music related, and singing. I also love some reality tv in between. 

Do you see yourself only as a musician, or are there other areas where you’d like to express yourself?

I have a lot to say after being silent for years, so I definitely do see beyond just music. However, the music is what continues to heal me and it is in the center of my heart. I’d like to one day have a podcast to talk about my journey and learning about others journeys, but I am heavily focused on music right now.

And the final question. You say “I feel like I am stepping into the person I never had the courage to be“. It’s a beautiful phrase, and one can feel that you’re truly in the process of major changes. But you know what interests me? Sometimes the most important moments in life happen not when we become someone new, but when we realise we’ve always been who we wanted to be. If you could meet yourself from 2020 – that girl who was just starting to write music in East Village – what would you tell her? And what do you think she would think of you now?

I would tell her that she knew it all along- every time she noticed her intuition telling her to do something, she needs to listen. I would tell her to stop waiting for anyone else’s approval. I would tell her that her foundation in her own beliefs are incredibly strong underneath the fog of the opinions and projections people close to her put onto her. I would tell her she’s about to see and do things she never imagined possible. I think that girl in 2020 would be in disbelief. You have to understand, I didn’t even think I could sing at all. The fact that I get up on stage now without hesitation, I write and sing and follow my heart now on a daily basis, is something I never imagined possible. I know it sounds so simple, like why wouldn’t you listen to your own self? But I couldn’t. I thought everyone knew better than me. 2020 me would be in shock at who I am and who I have become, and I think that’s the laughing moment for me, because I really am just getting started. 


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