“People didn’t expect either of us to get together—like, Tony Seltzer and me? That’s why making the album was so fun, it feels like a true reflection of both of us in one sound.” 

Bronx-born and Brooklyn-based, Anysia Kym is a self-taught producer and multi-instrumentalist. You might’ve first caught her behind the kit as the drummer for New York indie band Blair, a DIY project started between her and three friends. Since stepping away, she’s been carving out a world entirely her own, and it’s truly breathtaking. On her latest album, Purity, she has teamed up with 10k labelmate Tony Seltzer for a genre-defying trip, revealing yet another version of herself: shaper, more fearless than ever.

When Anysia’s face appears on Google Meet, I take a moment to recalibrate. Here’s someone whose music I’ve long admired, whose album Truest was on my most listened to list last year, and now, I’m actually sitting down to talk with her. “I’ve literally just got back from the gym, so I’m super sweaty”, she laughs, launching us straight into a no fluff, no frills conversation. Right away, I was pulled into Anysia’s world.

For the next hour, we spoke freely about her personal and musical journey, her meditations on living in the in-between, and the significance of Purity. She was grounding and radiant, curious and compelling, and every bit the person I’d imagined behind the brilliance.

So tell me, where am I speaking to you from?
You are speaking to me from my apartment in New York. I’ve actually never lived anywhere else, I’m a true New York baby. 

Let’s get straight into Purity. It’s a collaborative record between you and Tony Seltzer. I’m dying to know, what was the meet-cute moment between you and Tony? And when did you realise you wanted to create together?

It’s a story I like to tell because it was super organic. I hadn’t heard of Tony’s music, and he hadn’t heard of mine, we just kept hearing about each other. MIKE, who runs the label I’m on, was working on Tony’s album Pinball, and when he played it for me, I was like, “This is amazing”. Tony eventually invited me to his studio and we went from there.

Sonically, you’re very different, how did this work?
Admittedly, I was very hesitant at first. Tony’s music is so hip-hop focused, and I can be kind of abstract, but I underestimated how open-minded Tony was musically. We respected each other’s craft, and it just worked. When it comes to collaboration, it’s about finding someone who’s down to get dirty, get weird, do weird shit—and that’s it.

And were other people surprised by this unlikely collaboration? 

Funny thing actually…we didn’t tell anyone we were working on this. Maybe just MIKE. We’d be out at events, and no one had a clue. It was our little secret, just between the two of us. No announcements, no buildup. We just kept at it, and then dropped it on everyone when it was ready. And when it finally came out, people’s reactions were like, “Whoa!”. People were definitely surprised. 

“We didn’t know how it was going to pan out. So keeping it just between us left the playground open for whatever came.”

The name, Purity, what’s the story behind it? 

So for a while, Tony and I didn’t name it as we didn’t want it to influence the sound. But it actually came from the Slipknot song “Purity”. It’s very heavy and not at all like the music we were making, but Tony showed me and I loved it—that’s it, we decided. So you can thank Slipknot for this one! 

Wow—would’ve never guessed Slipknot! But I guess the beauty in purity is that it’s so subjective, so it can lend itself to many different ideas and genres, right? 

Exactly that! And I think the album is subjective as hell, too.

For you, does purity feel closer to silence or to noise?

That’s an amazing question. I’d have to say silence. I think when you synthesize all the noise, the purity lies in the simplicity behind it. Even though the album is noisy as hell, what you take from it, the purity you reach, is something you arrive at in silence.

And do you see purity as something you’re chasing, resisting, or redefining? 

I think it’s something you’re pursuing. You’re in pursuit of purity, and I think you have to experience a lot along the way—that’s where the noise and chaos come from. That peace you arrive at? That’s purity.

Let's wind it back. You used to be the drummer in the indie band Blair. How did you transition from this to a solo artist? 

Well, while I was still in the band, I put out a B-side tape, just instrumentals, and I had hit up friends to feature on it. Then I started thinking, I want to do the same thing, but this time I want to write it myself instead of sending it out. I wanted to hear my own voice on my own beats. We [Blair] had just released an album, so we were taking a bit of a break, and the timing kind of revealed itself. It just made sense to work on something solo. It was a smooth transition, moving from drummer/producer to producer/songwriter.

“I treat my music career as a never-ending experiment, I’m always trying to learn new things and be a student.” 

Are there any practices from the band that you’ve taken into your solo work?
Yeah, for sure! I loved being a team player, and even though I’m technically solo now, I’m playing multiple roles: I’m the producer, the songwriter, I sequence the albums myself, and I choose my collaborations. It’s funny because I’m almost like a team player for myself, getting to wear a bunch of different hats, which is really fun. My curiosity about drumming got me into the band, my curiosity about production led me to go solo, and now my curiosity about songwriting is where I’m at. 

One thing I have to say is you're a real grafter, two albums and an EP in two years. That’s insanely impressive! How do you keep creating at that pace?

I just keep making things. I know the version of myself creating a project will change over time, so it’s best to put things out before I change my mind. When I start spiraling into overthinking, that’s usually the signal to get input from an outsider’s perspective, then it’s pretty much ready to go. Gotta just hit that button! 

And whose opinion(s) are you trusting the most? 

Oh, my brother and MIKE. But if I had to pick one, it’d be my brother. He’s taught me everything I know. He was the first “alternative” person in our house. He skated, listened to rock, and taught himself guitar. My brother had a different way of life that I always thought was so cool, and he really inspired me to get into music. I trust him completely.

You still burn your albums onto CDs, which feels pretty old school—I’m into it. Why this medium? Was it an intentional resistance to the way the media landscape is changing?

Honestly, I just love CDs! They’re what got me into music in the first place. In fact, for the first B-tape I ever made, I burned fifty CDs by hand at MIKE’s house, physically putting the stickers on each one myself—that’s pretty special! There are machines now that do all that, but it’s not the same. There’s just something so deeply personal about CDs, especially since they’re what I was raised on.

I’m assuming you have a CD player? 

I do! My next plan is to buy myself a Walkman or something, so I can listen on the go.

“When I was younger, I had a Cheetah Girls CD—I’m pretty sure that's why I'm a singer now. They were so camp and dramatic, it was everything.”

Okay, you’re going on an intentional walk, and you have three CDs you can listen to, which ones are they? 

Janet by Janet Jackson, Britney by Britney Spears (I’m definitely seeing a trend here haha!) and Get Up With It by Miles Davis. And if I had a fourth, it’d be the Cocteau Twins.

Great choices! So, if you're practising purity outside of your musical practice, how does that show up? 

I think feeling good in my body, even in the mundane, is purity. If I’m on the phone with my mom, that’s purity. If I’m sitting on the train and there’s train traffic—like, is that even a real thing?—the waiting and the in-between is purity. I think we’re always in motion, in a process, not at a finish line. And that’s the true beauty of life. The in-between is very romantic to me. I like to flirt with the “what if”... that’s the stuff of life.

What you’re describing sounds like liminality to me, a word that comes from the Latin limen, meaning "threshold". It refers to states of transition and the idea of the "betwixt and between”. 

Oh my goodness, I feel like I’ve just taken a dive into cold water. That pretty much describes the feeling I’ve been chasing my whole career. A lot of people know what they want and work towards that goal, but I’ve never had that. I always wonder, “Am I fucked up?”. Obviously, I want success, and I want my music to touch people, but how I get there and what that looks like, I’m just letting everything reveal itself. I’m trusting the process, and the beautiful part is knowing you’re allowed to change your mind.

“My mom when I was seven said, “A woman has a right to change her mind”, and it’s always stuck with me. It’s so obvious, yet we often fail to put it into practice.” 

So that’s the mantra you live by? 

For sure. Mom’s the word. 

You and the 10k crew have been involved in the “No Music For Genocide” cultural boycott. Is it important for you to speak up as an artist right now?

Absolutely! If there’s one thing I can do as an artist, it’s to speak up. As a black-femme artist, the stakes are perceived as higher if you speak up about an issue, but I wouldn't want to use my marginalization as an excuse not to. Information is power and we must keep speaking about the genocide.

I know you’ve only just put out an album, so you’re probably putting your feet up now. But what’s next? 

I think changing gears and re-understanding what’s mentally stimulating for me is my next move. There’s a natural knee-jerk reaction, after making a succession of projects, to just keep going. But if I do that, I’m going to end up making stuff where my heart’s not in it. I’d say I’m in my research and development phase right now.

That sounds so professional! 

I know haha! Let’s call it R&D… that feels more me. 

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Photos by Lauren Davis