indie music blog

Inside 唇友谊: Moon Chew, a Singapore Music Producer, Makes Room for a Rapper

Moon Chew Built Her Singapore Catalogue Beside One Collaborator, and 唇友谊 Adds a Third Voice

Most of the records Moon Chew works on in Singapore are not hers. She is a music producer who also works as a mixing engineer, and for most of the last decade her job has been simple enough to state. Take other people’s songs and make them sound like themselves. On 唇友谊, out on 8 May 2026, she did something she had not done on one of her own tracks. She gave part of it to somebody else.

Moon Chew’s music is in the playlist below, and the coverage history sits on the Moon Chew profile. 唇友谊 reached this desk through PopHits.Co Music Charts, which verifies independent artists and places their releases across its network of music news titles. Listen before you read the rest.


Inside 唇友谊: Moon Chew, a Singapore Music Producer, Makes Room for a Rapper
Inside 唇友谊: Moon Chew, a Singapore Music Producer, Makes Room for a Rapper

How Moon Chew Got From the Singapore Mixing Desk to the Front of the Song

The order of her career is worth knowing, because it is the reverse of the usual one.

Moon Chew has worked in music production since 2010, and she still takes client work as a mixing engineer. Her SoundBetter profile describes her plainly as a Singapore-based mixing engineer and vocalist. It lists mixing at around three hundred dollars a song and carries seventy-four reviews. She works in Logic Pro X through an Audient interface, on PreSonus monitors, into a Neumann TLM 103. During the pandemic, when nobody could share a room, she mixed virtual classical orchestra and choir projects. That job teaches you how to assemble a performance out of parts that never met.

She is also clear about what she thinks the work is for. On that same profile she puts musicality and emotion ahead of sounding technically good. Her job, as she describes it, is bringing those out of somebody else’s mix.

The Covers Came Before the Songs

The singing arrived in public later, and it arrived through other people’s material.

From 2017 she began posting covers on her YouTube channel. Two of them, 畢竟深愛過 and 紙短情長, say so in their own titles. That grounding still shows in what listeners reach for. Several of her most-played recordings share their titles with well-known Mandopop songs, among them 體面, 烏梅子醬 and 讓我留在你身邊. Hear65, the Singaporean music platform run by Bandwagon, lists fifteen of her releases. It files them across pop, Mandopop, alternative, acoustic and electronic.

Covers are a reasonable way for a producer to become a singer. You learn the front of the song without also having to defend the writing. If you are already the person mixing it, you can hear exactly what your own voice needs. Her own stated reference points sit in that lineage. She names LaLa Hsu, Rainie Yang and G.E.M. as the singers her work sounds like. The originals came after that, and she produced, arranged and mixed those herself.

What 唇友谊 Changes for Moon Chew in Singapore

She has made most of her originals on her own, and many of the recent ones with a single collaborator, which is the part the release itself makes visible.

Spotify credits GHAZT on 唇友谊. GHAZT also appears on at least five more of her originals: 餘光一角, 躲猫猫物语, Mobius Strip (莫比乌斯环), 换季关系 and 血吻. 换季关系 got an official music video in November 2024. Read across the catalogue, GHAZT is not a guest on a track. GHAZT is the other half of how these songs get written.

That is what makes the new name interesting. The credits name Edward Chan as the rapper and the song’s lyricist, and his Spotify artist page currently lists this one track. The collaboration is at its start, then, rather than somewhere inside an established run. A settled two-person partnership with six songs behind it has a shape, and shapes are hard to open. Handing a section to a third person means agreeing in advance to leave room you would otherwise have filled.

From the NewMusic.News curator team: “The story on 唇友谊 is not that an independent singer booked a feature. It is that a working music producer decided her own song would be better with somebody else in it. She has spent years making other people’s records sit right. That is a harder call than it sounds when you are also the one balancing the result.”

Inside 唇友谊: Moon Chew, a Singapore Music Producer, Makes Room for a Rapper
Inside 唇友谊: Moon Chew, a Singapore Music Producer, Makes Room for a Rapper

What the Track Answers

Three minutes is not long to introduce a third voice, and the track does not try to stage a summit.

What it does is test the Moon Chew and GHAZT arrangement. Can it carry a register it has not carried before? The catalogue around it leans on sung Mandopop melody, some of it acoustic, some of it electronic. A rap verse is a different rhythmic logic. It either sits inside the arrangement or it sits on top of it. Anyone who has mixed for a living knows which of those they are aiming for, and Moon Chew mixed this one with GHAZT.

The opposite decision is just as deliberate, and this desk has written about a debut built with no guests at all. Neither route is the safe one. They just fail in different directions.

Whether this is a new direction or a single experiment stays open. Her releases have arrived steadily enough that an answer should not be far off. The useful thing about following a producer who fronts her own records is simple. You hear the decision-making rather than guess at it.

Where to Hear 唇友谊 by Moon Chew

唇友谊 is on Spotify, and her back catalogue sits on her YouTube channel.

Follow Moon Chew on Instagram, TikTok and Facebook.


Markus Nokio the Orphan and the Violin That Answers the Piano

A Self-Taught Finnish Composer and the String Line That Opens up a Solo Piece

Markus Nokio built The Orphan around a single decision, and two reviewers found it independently. Writing five days apart, in different countries and different languages, both stopped at the same place. Not the opening piano figure, which circles quietly under everything. They stopped at the moment a violin enters over it. That kind of agreement between strangers usually points at a decision rather than an accident.

Markus Nokio’s music is in the playlist below, and his full coverage history sits on his artist profile. The Orphan reached this desk through PopHits.Co Music Charts, which verifies independent artists and places their releases across its network of music news desks. Press play, then read on.


Markus Nokio the Orphan and the Violin That Answers the Piano
Markus Nokio the Orphan and the Violin That Answers the Piano

The Moment Markus Nokio Built The Orphan Around

Nokio taught himself to compose, works out of Finland, and describes what he does in plainly commercial terms: music for media, television, film and games. That detail explains a good deal about The Orphan. Writing to picture teaches a particular discipline. You learn to hold one line steady while something else moves against it. You also learn that a second voice entering is an event, and that a listener feels it whether or not they can name it.

The Orphan runs on exactly that principle. The piano underneath holds a continuous melody, which Good Music Radar described as flowing at the base like a river. On purpose, it does not do very much. It is a bed. The violin, when it arrives, does not compete with the piano so much as reply to it, and the piece opens outward from there. Nokio keeps faint vocal echoes behind the strings, far enough back that they read as colour rather than as singing.

The Year That Produced The Orphan

The Orphan did not arrive out of nowhere, and for its composer it was not a rare event. It went up on 9 October 2024 as his fifth release of that year. Earlier singles included Love, Rage and Misery and After It’s Too Late. Five pieces in ten months is a working pace rather than a careful one, and that changes how you hear this one. Markus Nokio writes steadily and puts the results out. So The Orphan reads less as a statement than as an entry in a run, and the run is where the craft accumulated.

People use the self-taught label loosely, so it is worth being precise about what it buys and what it costs. Nokio writes, by his own account, about his experiences in life, and the titles match. A conservatory would have handed him a vocabulary for the thing he does anyway. Its absence left him incurious about the rules governing what a contemporary classical piece ought to withhold. The Orphan is unembarrassed about its feeling. It states a mood early, then deepens it rather than complicating it, which is a choice a more schooled writer might have talked themselves out of.

Markus Nokio the Orphan and the Violin That Answers the Piano
Markus Nokio the Orphan and the Violin That Answers the Piano

Where The Orphan Sits, and What Markus Nokio Answers With It

Contemporary classical is a wide and slightly awkward label. It covers severe modernism at one end and piano music written for headphones at the other. The Orphan belongs firmly to the second group, and its neighbours are easy to name. Listeners who have spent time with Ludovico Einaudi will recognise the method: hold a simple figure, and let repetition do the work that harmonic surprise does elsewhere. Anyone who follows Ólafur Arnalds knows the particular pleasure of a string line entering over a piano that has already established the room. And Max Richter has spent a career showing that a piece built to be usable in film still works with nothing on the screen.

That last point is the one The Orphan answers most clearly. Critics often dismiss music by composers who score to picture as merely functional, as though supporting a scene were evidence of thinness. Both reviews argued the opposite. Both reached for stories rather than for other records to do it. Good Music Radar heard Oliver Twist and Annie. INDIEOCLOCK, writing in Brazil, described walking through empty woods, and found something medieval in the harmony between the violin and the keys. Nobody prompted either reading. That both writers went looking for a narrative suggests the piece supplies one.

NewMusic.News’s curator team: “The interesting thing about The Orphan is how little it spends. One piano figure, one violin answering it, and some vocal colour kept well back. A composer with more training might have added a development section and lost the whole effect. Markus Nokio trusted the entrance to carry it, and it does.”

Where to Hear The Orphan and Follow Markus Nokio

The Orphan is on Spotify, and the wider catalogue sits on the Spotify artist page, on Apple Music, on YouTube Music and on SoundCloud.

For the working side of things, which for a composer who writes to commission is most of it, Markus Nokio posts to YouTube, Instagram, Facebook, TikTok and Threads.


Perpetual Violence Machine: How Hydra Vein Turned One Last Show Into A Third Act

A Brighton Thrash Band Reformed for One Night in 2020 and Never Actually Stopped

On 29 February 2020, Hydra Vein walked onto a stage at Newcastle University for the first time in more than thirty years. The show was not a comeback. It was meant to be a goodbye, and the band said so plainly at the time. Five years later there is a new EP. Perpetual Violence Machine runs five thrash tracks and roughly twenty-three minutes, out on Iron Shield Records.

Five tracks by Hydra Vein sit on the playlist below, and the band’s artist profile records what these titles have published on the thrash group. Perpetual Violence Machine was logged with this network by PopHits.Co Music Charts, the vetting scheme that verifies independent artists and places their releases across its network of music news desks. Play it straight through, then read what changed.


Perpetual Violence Machine: How Hydra Vein Turned One Last Show Into A Third Act
Perpetual Violence Machine: How Hydra Vein Turned One Last Show Into A Third Act

Before Perpetual Violence Machine, Hydra Vein Reformed To Say Goodbye

Hydra Vein formed in Brighton in 1987 around bassist Damon Maddison and his brother Nathan on drums. Two records followed, in 1988 and 1989, and then the band stopped. Most British thrash groups of that decade stopped around the same time. They had never found the label support their American and German contemporaries enjoyed.

What brought them back was not a label offer. It was a pub conversation with Stu Bartlett, who promotes Brofest. That Newcastle festival is built around veterans of the new wave of British heavy metal, plus the younger bands who returned to that material. The Maddisons had been going for years as paying customers.

The reunion also had a specific purpose, and it was not commercial. Guitarist Jon Balfour, who played on the second album, died in 1992. The band’s original singer, Mike Keen, died in 2003. The Brofest set became a tribute to both, and the line-up reflected that. The Maddison brothers played alongside guitarists Stephen Davis and Dan Ranger from the first record, Paul Bate from the second, and singer James Manley-Bird. It read less like a booking than a gathering of everyone still around to play the songs.

Nathan Maddison explained the thinking to RushOnRock in the days before the show.

“For me personally, it is to put a line under Hydra Vein, to properly sign off with those old tunes and a celebration of the memory of Mike and Jon.”

He was blunter later in the same conversation: “We thought it would be fun to bring the curtain down properly and to pay tribute to the guys who are no longer with us. Closure, I suppose.” The piece recorded, plainly, that there were no plans for a follow-up performance.

That sentence is worth sitting with, because everything after it happened anyway.

Perpetual Violence Machine: How Hydra Vein Turned One Last Show Into A Third Act
Perpetual Violence Machine: How Hydra Vein Turned One Last Show Into A Third Act

What Perpetual Violence Machine Answers About A Band That Meant To Stop

The EP arrived in October 2025 on Iron Shield Records. The band recorded and mixed it at IJland Studios in Amsterdam, across March and May of that year. Five tracks: Perpetual Violence Machine, Iron Men, Black Slammer, Strive For Life and A Thousand Forms of Fear.

The line-up is not the one that stood on the Brofest stage either. Damon Maddison is the constant. Around him now sit Ross Curry on vocals, Henry Pol on guitar and John den Buitelaar on drums. That makes this less a legacy act touring its own back catalogue, and more a working band carrying an old name.

So the EP quietly answers the question the 2020 show left open. A reunion staged as closure could easily have settled into an annual heritage booking. Instead the band wrote new material and recorded it in another country with a different singer. They also kept it short enough that nobody could mistake it for a victory lap.

The reference points here are domestic rather than American. Listeners who follow Onslaught or Xentrix will recognise what Hydra Vein are doing. Those are the other British thrash bands of that generation who came back and then kept working. It is a scene that never got its own Bay Area moment and has spent the last decade quietly assembling one anyway.

Where To Hear Perpetual Violence Machine And Follow Hydra Vein

NewMusic.News’s curator team on why it earned a slot:

“Most reunions are about an audience. This one began as a farewell for two friends who had died, and turned into new material almost by accident, which is a stranger and far more interesting reason for a band to still exist.”

You can hear the EP on Spotify and Bandcamp, or across Apple Music, Deezer and Amazon Music. The full EP is also streaming on YouTube.

Keep up with the band on Facebook and Instagram.