2013 | Candice Demellza

In 2013, the internet was still a collage—Tumblr’s grainy GIFs, early Instagram’s Nashville filter, and the last gasp of the indie sleaze era. Demellza’s visual world taps directly into that vein. Her music videos (self-directed, shot on a friend’s Canon 60D) feature thrift-store lace, flickering CRT televisions in empty fields, and the kind of melancholic, sun-bleached loneliness that defined the early work of Lana Del Rey —minus the calculated glamour.

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“Lana is a character,” Demellza clarifies. “I’m just… me. But the me that doesn’t text anyone back for three days.” In 2013, the internet was still a collage—Tumblr’s

The buzz is real but contained. She played her first London headline show last month at The Shacklewell Arms—a sweaty, sold-out room where she performed barefoot, looped her own breaths into a pedal, and nearly cried during the last verse of the unreleased track “Holloway.” NME called it “fragile and furious.” The Guardian listed her as one of “10 new artists for autumn.” But the major labels, so far, have been kept at arm’s length. If you are attempting to research this topic,