Indie Artist Mae Krell Releases Imposter Syndrome
22-year-old indie singer-songwriter Mae Krell breaks down her personal truths and fear-filled heart with Imposter Syndrome, an intimate 4-track EP bravely confronting her inner-most enemy of soul-gripping distress. The whimsical, New York-based “sad girl” paradigm conveys feelings of not being good enough and doubtful in times of career achievement. Imposter Syndrome can knock you breathless, and even make you feel guilty for being happy.
The first track on the EP, “Phantom limb,” sways like wind in the trees with the cool feeling of raindrops hitting your flushed cheeks. Her voice glows like the sun with gentle plucks of a singing, vintage grand piano. The softness of the pain in this piece is like being wrapped in a cozy blanket after a heavy cry.
The anguish floods Krell’s voice in “Rest Stop,” recalling a moment of fear, loneliness, and coldness. “I could die in my head but you leave my thoughts on read.” The song is a monologue of validation or even a confrontation with a loved neglector. Falling in love with pain never felt so easy with Krells’s sweet seduction of colliding clean, electric guitar with soft beating crashes and high strung conclusions. Disordered melodies clutter as she recalled at the bridge— “I cried at a rest stop at a state I didn’t know,” walking us through painful memories of our own we try not to remember.
“Colorblind” leads you on slowly. And with a bashful hint of jazz, dreamy pop treasures, and leisurely walking drums, you quickly fall in love just in time for the peaking chorus that satisfies an aching soul for a reassuring embrace. The new wake of being alone brings colorblindness— a world empty of all joy and color. The end of the piece glistens with subtle minor chromatics, representing a ghostly disturbance of one’s memory or existence. The one that left us colorblind.
The EP concludes with “Imposter Syndrome.” The track beams with a crystal-like structure making an entrance with maximum instrumental capacity. The fullness in the opening of the song breeds an overpass of romantic minor chords entangled with clean upbeat pinching synths. As mood-setting strings whisper harsh grudges over glossy vocals, the hook confronts the dreadful, conflicting emotions of enduring imposter syndrome. A common yet beastly deceit on our fragile, internal reality. Down-to-earth singer-songwriter developed this piece feeling inspired by the surrounding tracks on the truth declaring EP. As a talented pianist was hired to lay down tracks for the enchanting “Phantom Limb,” Krell recalls a feeling of unworthiness of being there wanting nothing more than to disappear. “Imposter syndrome is such a common feeling, especially for people from minority backgrounds, and it really hit me like a truck that day. That was then followed by going home and writing this song” Krell says. The chorus trickles like raindrops as you see your thoughts passing by your street. “I guess I have Imposter Syndrome, but I don’t think it’s that bad. Isn’t that imposter syndrome?”
The 4-track ep comes together beautifully with each song conducting an orchestra of the syndrome’s all-too-familiar symptoms. A feeling of losing those around you, and losing yourself in the literal and emotional sense. Imposter Syndrome is decorated with modern antiques as Krell illustrates the beauty of being present in your body— embracing that inner cheerleader celebrating you as you reach your life’s most desired achievements.
