

Your music blends industrial, electronic, and experimental sounds. What inspires you to create such a unique sonic world?
It's important for me to be progressive. The futurism of sound is so exciting to me and I love exploring its possibilities. How far can you push a frequency? How distorted can a kick drum become before it turns into something completely new? A lot of my music comes from experimentation and accidents. There are all these unwritten rules about how songs are "supposed" to be made but I've never been interested in following them. I don't think there are any rules in art.
My philosophy with making music feeds into the sonic world I create. I'm drawn to futurism, subversion, and this digital, almost synthetic feeling but it has to have an organic backbone. I'd describe my music as post-genre because I'm influenced by so many different sounds, although deep down I love hardcore electronic music. Glitch, noise, chaos and distortion feel incredibly cathartic to me.Ultimately, I think I'm just expressing what's going on in my brain. Making music is therapeutic, and the sound reflects that.
Your stage name, Baby Tap, is memorable and intriguing. What's the story behind it, and what does it represent to you today?
Baby Tap is pretty self-descriptive when you think about it. It's about tapping into the baby within: embracing that childlike part of yourself that's instinctive, playful, carefree and silly. I've always loved heavier music scenes like industrial, punk, digital hardcore and noise, but the name "Baby Tap" was my reaction to how serious, pretentious and masculine a lot of those spaces could feel.
I love the juxtaposition of having this really playful name attached to such intense music. It still makes me laugh. More than anything, it's a reminder not to take myself too seriously. We all have an inner child, and I don't think becoming an adult means we have to lose that part of ourselves. Life is hard enough as it is. I actually think it's really important to stay silly.
How has being part of the LGBTQ+ community shaped your music, performance style, or artistic journey?
Where do I begin? Being queer is a huge part of my artistry. It's probably the biggest part of it, actually.As a queer man making rap and hardcore music, I naturally challenge a lot of the expectations those genres have carried for years. There are traditions within those scenes that have often centred masculinity in a very narrow way, so of course I'm going to flip that on its head. That's part of who I am.
To me, being queer and being punk as fuck are completely intertwined. Both are about ripping up the script you've been handed and creating your own. Finding the freedom to be whoever I want to be goes hand in hand with the freedom I feel as an artist. They're impossible for me to separate.None of that would have been possible without the queer community. I can't begin to express how much the people around me have influenced me or how much love, hope and strength they've given me. I'm incredibly lucky to know the people I do, and I'm grateful for them every single day.



Your visual aesthetic is just as striking as your music. How important is fashion and self-expression to your identity as an artist?
Oh, thanks! Music always comes first, but it's all about identity, isn't it? Self-expression is incredibly important to me.Of course, from a branding perspective an image matters but I think it's boring and a bit soul-destroying if that's the only way you look at it.For me, it's much more personal. It's expression. It's drag. It's fantasy.
People decorate their cars and their homes so why shouldn't they decorate themselves? I'm an artist, but I'm also a piece of art. The paint on my face, the shoes I wear, whatever I choose to put on my body — it can all express a feeling or make a statement. It's powerful.
I remember when I was a kid, an adult criticised me for looking "like a cartoon." I rejected that idea immediately even though I was probably 8 years old. I remember looking at myself in the mirror and thinking, why wouldn't I want to be a cartoon? Cartoons are fucking joyful and the most fun! Why wouldn't I want to be a colourful character? How oppressive to think otherwise!My life experiences have created a character that is me, so I'm going to let myself be it, whatever it is. Sorry, but you're probably never going to catch me in boot-cut blue Levi's and a plain T-shirt. Not because there's anything wrong with that — I just wouldn't feel like myself.
What message do you hope queer fans take away when they experience your music or see you perform live?
That it's okay to be yourself unapologetically. Growing up queer, you're taught to make yourself smaller or quieter, to fit into whatever version of yourself makes other people comfortable. I want my music and my live shows to do the opposite. I want people to feel like they can take up space, be loud, be weird, be vulnerable, be joyful — whatever feels true to them.
You've spoken about the importance of queer spaces and community. What changes would you like to see for LGBTQ+ artists in the UK music scene?
I mean... I actually love it. I come across new queer artists and performers all the time, and they're incredible. They make me so happy.The changes I want to see for LGBTQ+ people are from the government and they boil down to basic human rights. As for the UK music scene? I think it fucking slaps.
The biggest problems I see within music aren't exclusive to queer artists — they affect all musicians. Streaming has fundamentally changed how artists are discovered and paid, and so many of the platforms and opportunities musicians rely on have become increasingly monetised. It can feel like you have to pay just to be seen. I think we hit a bit of a sweet spot maybe fifteen years ago and it's been a tougher landscape ever since. I'm still optimistic though! There are so many brilliant artists making exciting, boundary-pushing work. That creativity hasn't gone anywhere.

Your latest music feels deeply personal while remaining experimental. How do you balance vulnerability with creative freedom?
I'm glad you said that! My new album is probably the most personal record I've written to date. Without sounding egotistical... well, I guess the album is about the ego. I wanted to talk about myself — to explore how I feel, how I'm doing, and who I am. Why not?
It's so easy to overthink what you're making, but I've been trying to shut those voices up and trust myself more.
I've been working on my imposter syndrome, and I know that if I love the music I'm making and it feels truthful to me, that's enough.
I'll be as vulnerable or as vapid as I want — that's my business. It's my art, and it's going to be whatever I want it to be. Ultimately, I don't think about it. Full stop. I don't think creativity works like that. For me, it's instinct. It's intuition. I just follow where it wants to go and I have to trust whatever it is.
Social media has become an essential tool for artists. How do you stay authentic while navigating the pressures of being online?
Ugh, social media sucks sometimes. I genuinely find it bad for my mental health, so I'm learning not to take it too seriously or spend too much time on it. It's great that we have these platforms where we can express ourselves, be cute, and share our work, but they're also tools for building a career. I've only recently started thinking about it that way, and it's actually been quite fun.
I have a product, which is my music, and I have a brand, which is me. I'm going to use these platforms to get my music in front of the people who'll connect with it. Do I have time or patience for all of them? No, I don't, but I'll do the best I can without stressing myself out. It can be arduous and tedious.
You have to step back and ask yourself: How am I going to use this? How am I going to get my music to the right audience? I'm still figuring that part out but I know the music deserves the chance. It's important you don't take other people too seriously either. Comparison is the thief of joy. We're all presenting idealised versions of ourselves online. That's not necessarily a bad thing but there is a lot of fantasy and editing involved. Saying all of that, though, there's an amazing sense of community that transcends oceans. I've met the most amazing people through it and they inspire me every day.
If you could collaborate with any LGBTQ+ artist—past or present—who would it be, and what kind of track would you create together?
Honestly? I want to make music with my friends. All of them. I want to go round to their houses, press record and see what happens. I want to make the most absurd fucking cacophonies imaginable.
Secretly though... I've always wanted to make a thrash metal album with a band. Just one. I think it'd be so much fun.
If we're talking dream collaborations, then Arca and SOPHIE are the absolute pinnacle of queer artistry for me. They've completely redefined what's possible in music.
If Cobrah or Ashnikko ever wanted to do a song with me though... that song would be pure sex.
Looking ahead, what's next for Baby Tap, and what can your fans expect from you over the next year?
I've spent the last three years writing, producing and stressing over my new album. It's pretty much finished, and now I'm at that point where it's time to think about the next steps.
I was shit-scared to start releasing this music but I've finally overcome the fear and started the process! I think my first single, Siberian Snowtrip, will actually be out by the time this interview is published, and that's absolutely wild to me. The new era has officially begun. Every album release feels like completely uncharted territory but I'm working harder than ever and I hope people can feel that.
The rollout has started and I genuinely can't wait for people to hear my new music. I want to surprise people. I can't say too much yet, but you'll see. Once the album's out, I want to tour it. I want to take a month off from my day job and perform the house down to the biggest beats I've ever made. After all of that, I want to fuck off to Thailand by myself for two weeks, eat incredible food and forget about everything for a little while.