For CATLEA, music has always been a space for transformation. The London-based, Cincinnati-born singer-songwriter has built a catalogue that moves fluidly between alternative rock, indie, Americana and pop, using each release as an opportunity to explore new emotional territory. Their latest single, “Someone’s Got To”, marks their most vulnerable release yet, tracing the difficult but ultimately empowering journey from addiction and self-destruction toward sobriety, self-acceptance and healing.
The first glimpse into their forthcoming EP Aftermath, the track captures the moment when self-love becomes an act of survival. Blending intimate acoustic songwriting with a sense of forward momentum, CATLEA turns a deeply personal reckoning into a song about choosing yourself, even when that choice feels impossible. Around the release. we spoke with CATLEA about recovery, creative reinvention, and the role music has played in rebuilding their relationship with themselves.
1. You’re originally from Cincinnati and now based in London. How has moving between those places shaped your sense of identity and the way you tell stories through music?
Moving to London was easily one of the most important choices that I’ve ever made, both for myself and my music. There was definitely an adjustment period, it’s no easy feat to uproot your entire life and place it across an ocean, but now that I’ve finally settled in, I’m the happiest and healthiest I’ve ever been. I feel like my music has been growing in a direction it simply couldn’t before. I’ve always looked at music as a way to make art out of my experiences and vulnerabilities, but my motivation has shifted from a desperation to be understood, to creating just for the joy of creation.
2. Your artist name, CATLEA, has become connected with a very personal and evolving body of work. What does that name represent to you and has its meaning changed as you’ve changed?
I came up with the name “Catlea” when I was around 9 or 10 years old. At the time, I was beginning to struggle with feelings of insecurity and feeling out of place, so I wrote a story with a main character who was everything I wanted to be: Elegant, charismatic, talented, and someone who’s never afraid to be themselves. Whenever I found myself in an overwhelming social situation, I would do my best to “become” that character almost like a form of method acting. When I started releasing music, using the name felt like the only natural choice.
As I’ve changed, the meaning of the name has shifted in tandem. “Catlea” used to be a mask I would hide behind, but now, it represents who I truly am.
All that being said, I have to admit, the name has taken on a life of its own recently. My band has been introducing all of us together as “CATLEA”, which highly implies I’ve absorbed them all into some sort of hive mind. I definitely have not done that. They are all entirely independent of mind, body, and soul. Let’s move on.
3. “Someone’s Got To” was written before you had fully committed to recovery but you later returned to finish it when the words had become your reality. Did completing the song feel like revisiting your past self or like meeting a different version of yourself?
I think there’s a common misconception with recovery, especially when it comes to addiction, that it only truly begins once you stop causing yourself harm, and that your progress somehow resets if you falter in any way, as if all those days in between didn’t count. In reality, the first step is the acceptance that something needs to change, and everything from that moment forward is part of that progress.
I just passed 200 days sober, which is a massive milestone that I’m incredibly proud of, but my journey has been much longer than that. When I first wrote “Someone’s Got To”, I realized there was a profound disconnect between the life I was living and the person I wanted to be. Inherently by writing it, I was choosing recovery. I was just in the heavy, messy trenches of it.
As for revisiting or meeting another version of myself, there’s a lyric where I say “Who I was, and who I am, and who I’ll be all make up ‘me'”. Which is my way of saying if I’m going to love myself, it has to be every version. The person who started it was brave enough to admit what needed to happen; the person finishing it had worked hard enough to live it, and that person was me the whole time. I have to be able to take full credit and responsibility for all of it. Otherwise, how can I say that I’ve fully accepted myself for who I am?
4. The lyric “If you won’t love me, then I will” begins almost like a plea but becomes a statement of strength. When did you realise the song had transformed from asking for love into choosing yourself?
One of the most beautiful parts of being an artist of any kind is hearing how others interpret our work. Personally, the transformation I see in the song is something much different. For me, the transformation is found in my confidence. It starts at that first moment of realization where I say “Maybe if I try … it’ll be enough,” and ends with the even more crucial moment in the second half of the song where I actually believe in myself enough to say “I know if I try … it’ll be enough.” while the core theme of finding my own worth regardless of external validation remains.
5. You’ve described the Barcelona recording session as a breaking point that eventually led to change. Looking back, do you see that moment as a failure, a wake-up call, or an important part of the story that had to happen?
Unfortunately, I think it was a moment that had to happen, albeit a deeply mortifying one. I was in the studio trying to record the vocals for Someone’s Got To, but I was really struggling to get the choruses right. No matter what I did, my voice was just weaker than it usually is, and I still couldn’t acknowledge how much the alcohol was negatively affecting my voice. Eventually, I ended up bursting into tears and sitting on the studio floor.
I was so embarrassed because I was surrounded by these musicians who I look up to and respect so deeply and I was wasting their time because I couldn’t pull myself together, but they came and sat on the floor with me while I was at my absolute lowest, comforting me and showing me nothing but unconditional kindness.
I had tried to manage my drinking before, but that was the moment I realized that if I didn’t stop entirely, everything that mattered to me would slip through my fingers.
We didn’t finish the vocals that day. I wasn’t actually able to record the final vocals until months later once I had gotten fully sober and my voice had begun to recover. My music has always been heavily influenced by my real life, and it was almost as if the song itself refused to be completed until it was the truth.
6. Your music has moved through alternative rock, indie, Americana, pop, and electronic collaborations. Does changing styles reflect different sides of your personality or are you always searching for the same emotional truth through different sounds?
I’ve always found it fascinating how the industry reacts to genre-mixing, as if exploring different sounds is some sort of radical defiance instead of just being a musician. Creative evolution is part of what it means to be an artist.
For me, the song always dictates the sound. I listen for what I think sounds best and if that ends up being alt rock or indie or whatever word you want to use, then okay! Cool. But do you like the song? Because that’s the important part to me.
My emotional truth doesn’t change just because the instrumentation does. Every day is an opportunity to discover myself in ways I haven’t before, and my goal as an artist remains exactly the same, even if that doesn’t always fit neatly into a standard box.
7. The upcoming EP Aftermath explores a period of major transformation. Was it difficult to revisit those experiences creatively or did turning them into music give you a sense of distance and perspective?
I actually wrote these songs while I was actively going through the experiences that inspired them. I’ve always used my art to process difficult emotions in real-time. Writing them was an essential part of my healing process.
When it came time to finish and record the EP, the music itself provided all the distance and perspective I needed. There were times when it was difficult, sure, but for the most part it was just a relief to finally be able to put it all into a solid, cohesive project. Not to mention, I have an excellent support system to rely on whenever things get tough.
