April 17, 2025 |
Erin LeCount’s EP I Am Digital, I Am Divine plays like a sacred download – divine chaos disguised as pop. Across six tracks of devotional synths, heavenly vocals and tangled emotions, the 21-year-old Londoner offers up hymns for the hyper-online and sentimental. Equal parts angel and android, her self-produced outing feels like circuitry with a soul – raw emotion refracted through glitched-out textures, diaristic lyrics and celestial synths. It’s a transmission from somewhere in between girlhood and godhood, perfection and collapse, data and devotion.
Rooted in solitude and shaped by self-discipline, the EP plays like a sonic purge – a cleansing of past selves, growing pains and everything left unsaid, or unsung. LeCount’s voice hovers close: cracked, crystalline, unafraid, sometimes she whispers, sometimes she repeats lines like a spell. “To ache is to be alive,” she sings – not as a metaphor, but a mantra.
Opener Marble Arch introduces a ghostly confession over icy synths, while Silver Spoon and Sweet Fruit spirals deeper into emotional static with warped vocals and a twisting melody. It’s sweet, yes – but also sharp, a little sour and delicately devastating. The title track, I Am Digital, I Am Divine, floats in its own beat-free void, inspired by religious chants and browser tabs left open too long. Across these songs, she builds a sound that feels painfully human but beautifully synthetic – like holy whispers coming through a broken Bluetooth speaker. You hear it in the sacred-synthetic pull of the title track, in the sweet sting of Breathe, co-sung by the very girl it was written about. No emotion is too messy. No detail too awkward. No fault left unblessed.
What LeCount has built with I Am Digital, I Am Divine is not pristine or perfect, but it pulses with life – a rhythmic reminder that even broken code can still carry a signal. Here, we sit down with Erin to talk early heartbreaks, sacred aesthetics and finding power in the digitally divine.
1. The title I Am Digital, I Am Divine feels like a statement of power – what does it mean to you?
I try and do these daily positive affirmations and sometimes when I say them I feel slightly robotic and I have this image of my brain as a computer, that’s trying to rewire itself. “I Am Digital, I Am Divine” just felt like an affirmation that a machine would say if it was trying to convince itself it was human and I liked that. That’s kind of how I feel sometimes. A lot of the music is about feeling dysfunctional, so “I Am Digital” to me means neurotic and cold and rigid and “I Am Divine” means really quite sensitive and very human.
2. Your music is intimate – do you ever worry about sharing too much, or does it feel freeing?
I write and make songs on my own, so most of the time I forget that eventually other people will hear it. Sometimes I don’t even understand what I’ve just written or the heaviness of it until it’s in front of other people. Every now and then you’re in this stream of consciousness and then you write a line that feels extra violent and you get scared and want to filter it, but those lines are pretty stubborn and have a way of demanding to be in the songs.
3. What’s one lyric from the EP that feels the most like a personal mantra?
There’s a lyric from a song on the EP that’s not out yet. “to ache is to be alive” and there are a couple tattoos of it which is really wild and special to me because I didn’t know if I wanted to keep that line in. I kind of hear it as a reminder that whenever I’m feeling over sensitive, or emotional, whether it’s euphoric or really quite sad, it’s better than feeling nothing or feeling apathetic, because I’ve definitely been on both ends of that spectrum. If I care about things enough to be emotional about them, it probably means that I’ve been open and experienced something and I’m in touch with what I’m feeling and it might feel shitty, but it’s a good sign.
4. You taught yourself to produce – what was that process like, and how did it shape your sound?
The process happened without me realising I think, just play and fun at first. GarageBand. Singing along to these long synth sounds before I knew how to record vocals. Then I learnt how to stack vocals and just warble into my microphone until I liked it. I just wanted things to write to because I’d freeze up in sessions with other producers. I just wanted to watch over their shoulders and understand what was happening to my songs. I felt silly and had terrible imposter syndrome. Then my friends all moved away to university, I experienced this terrible relationship and when it ended, I think I locked myself in my shed every single day to make music. I barely saw anyone or left the house for anything social for over a year. I wasn’t doing too great and this was all I really felt like I had to keep me busy, so I racked up those 10,000 hours pretty quick. I didn’t consider myself a producer, and I think the fact that you never stop learning is the most beautiful and frustrating part about it.
5. Why did you decide to lead with ‘Marble Arch’?
I had the opening line “When I came back from the dead, the first thing they said was you’ve never looked better” in my notes forever and I wrote it on a walk and I remember thinking that this was such an obvious entrance line, it kind of announces your arrival. I’ve also just never made a song I loved so completely.
6. What do you hope listeners will feel when they listen to Marble Arch?
There was a slight discomfort I wanted Marble Arch to have, with the fucked up harps and vocals so close in your ear and the breathing on the mic at the end. Lots of beautiful divine sounding things getting digitally destroyed and corrupted, like a machine going wrong. It has these big epic grand moments of being in full force and flow and then these really delicate moments that feel like the songs going to shatter. I wanted people listening to feel every high and low of it.
7. Describe I Am Digital, I Am Divine in three words.
God, girls, machines!
8. What’s one thing you’ve learned from your fans that has shaped you as an artist?
I find it beautiful how much they unapologetically and loudly they love things. I think it’s so cool because I was always trying to care less about things and so it’s teaching me something, or mirroring something to me that I didn’t know I needed. I love their love for live music, I love seeing people so unashamed of their sensitivity and crying openly, surrounded by their friends or strangers that are feeling the same thing. They’re analytical and they study the lyrics and write essays on them and I respect it so much. It really does just come back to connection every single time.
9. Stan culture can be intense, but also really beautiful – what’s the funniest or most unexpected thing a fan has made about you?
Someone really sweet made me a box of brownies, but turns out I wasn’t supposed to take the tupperware they were in. Their mum found out they’d given me the tupperware box and I felt bad so I had to find a way of getting it back to them so they didn’t get in trouble. I ended up giving it back over these railings in a concert queue. That was quite funny.
10. You’ve already had such a massive year – what’s next for you?
So much has happened and yet it feels like it’s barely even started. This EP is just one piece of the year. Playing shows is where my heart is. I want to be on stage again. And then there’s some other things I’m immersed in right now that I’m desperate to talk about but now allowed to. A lot of things happening right now are so far out of my comfort zone – it’s going to be a good year. Full of surprises, one after the other I think.
Photography courtesy of Erin LeCount.
