It’s been a while since an artist has emerged with the rare ability to pull listeners into an intricate, transfixing world quite like self-taught artist and producer, Erin LeCount. The cherubic 22-year-old is a visionary sonic architect, the sole writer of her music; her luscious baroque-pop arrangements paired with diaristic lyrics and synths offer an alluring interplay of vulnerability and power. Songs possess an electronic heart pulsing with questions about identity, relationships and the meaning of life.
Erin’s musical journey started at just 9 years old, when she was performing at open mics in Essex, her voice carrying an emotional depth beyond her years. But it was at one of these events that her life would take a dramatic turn. She was scouted for a British singing competition that would have millions of eyes on her. “I was so young, and it was all so new and exciting,” Erin recalls. But the pressure quickly became overwhelming. “It was such a weird time because I suddenly was surrounded by a world of comparison,” she remembers. “I’ve spoken to so many of the children, now adults, who went through that with me, and it messed with all of us a little bit.”
The intense scrutiny left Erin struggling with her identity as an artist for years. “I came out of the show pretty unwell,” she admits. “I had to drop out of school. My life got completely swallowed by everything else I had to deal with after. I developed stage fright. It was like my body had just shut down. I genuinely forgot how to sing – I physically couldn’t do it. Performing had always been my favourite part, the one thing I thought I understood the most. And suddenly, it felt impossible.”
It was the Covid-19 lockdown that changed everything for a 17-year-old Erin; she spent time locked away in her bedroom teaching herself to produce on Logic, writing songs and putting them online. She went into writing sessions with other artists, which unfortunately reminded her of those traumatic experiences being forced to achieve under pressure as a child, and instead she decided to work alone.
This was a blessing in disguise—it pushed her harder to work on her craft and empowered her to have total creative control, in the vein of other female producing singer-auteurs like Grimes or Caroline Polachek. Erin LeCount has attracted an extremely engaged fanbase, one that organically gathers on a busy Discord channel and across socials. In the way that Erin decided to use her voice like an instrument, there’s a raw commanding energy to it. But her greatest influence is her mother’s ballet dancing career. “We had a DVD on Swan Lake on repeat at home and the beauty and aesthetic of that has certainly found its way into my visuals and sensibility,” Erin reflects.
On her astonishing debut EP I Am Digital, I Am Divine, which was released in April 2025, Erin’s dreamy and atmospheric production crafts complex real stories about her intimate relationships with herself and other people. “When I was an unwell teenager, I was very isolated and I didn’t have much of a social life so I started dating and making friends at 17 and didn’t understand the dynamics,” she says. “It’s given me a lot of missed experiences to experience in a short amount of time and music has been my way to do that.”
The EP includes the fragile but defiant hit “Silver Spoon”, the title track “I Am Digital, I Am Divine” which is a soaring angelic chorus, the painfully exquisite “Marble Arch”, the intricate pop song “Godspeed”, and the euphoric and melancholic synth-driven “Sweet Fruit”.
Now, Erin is turning the page to the next chapter in her career, and in September 2025 she released the emphatic “808 HYMN”, which has a sound that falls between art-pop and baroque-pop, and incorporates everything from orchestra strings, drum machines, and synths. Most recently, in October 2025, Erin released her newest single, “MACHINE GHOST”, which she describes as being about “dissociation, the feeling of separation from your body in everyday life, at parties and the most intimate moments. It’s about going to extreme lengths to try and evoke some feeling again, no matter what it takes and what risk it involves, seeking cheap thrills and painful pleasure. An observation of my own body, relationships and my take on what it means to be both the ghost, and the machine.”. Both tracks signify the lofty trajectory Erin LeCount has in store for her already impressive career.
The insular realities Erin LeCount evokes in her music sound and feel like delicate flowers forced to bloom in Winter. “Me and my voice do not do what a perfect pop singer is supposed to do,” she says. “My songs are questioning everything and I think my fans are too—I’m a perfectionist and I want to know every answer.” But it’s that attempt at transcendence through the cold that captures something of what it means to be divine in a digital age.
