Laylo Rikhsieva
“I want my music to be something people can turn to for comfort”

In the world where emerging artists are often defined and represented through labels and comparisons, there is a young Uzbek singer who refuses to be confined. They call her Uzbek Billie Eilish to which she simply responds “I am Laylo”.
Laylo Rikhsieva is a talented singer and songwriter rising to public attention through her songs like “Simple”, “Home”, “Cry” - songs she wrote and self-composed in the quiet corner of her bedroom. Her music creates a space for discussion of climate, social issues, mental health and authentic human feelings. Her music is not only a testament to talent but also to a musical legacy woven into her DNA. Laylo’s lineage traces back to Yunus Rajabiy, famous Uzbek musician and researcher of the 20th century.
Having walked away from the traditional career path to pursue her passion full-time, she is an example of what it means to take a leap of faith in pursuit of a dream.
- Can you share the moment when you first realized that music was something you wanted to pursue?
It happened during COVID. Before that, I never had serious intentions of pursuing a musical career - it was more like a hobby. Growing up in a collectivist society, the fear of standing out as an individual made me conform to traditional paths, choosing stable and predictable alternatives over pursuing things that were uncertain but made me feel a sense of belonging. When COVID struck, stability disappeared. Everyone was in panic and chaos, yet that was the happiest moment of my life because, for the first time, I had space to be myself. The pressure to always be "correct" or "right" no longer mattered. In isolation, I had a face-to-face encounter with myself. I realized that many aspects of my life were never truly what I needed. I struggled to express myself properly—my feelings, needs, and emotions—because of a deep fear of vulnerability. That’s when I began writing. Writing songs became the only safe way to express my emotions because I could always pretend the feelings in the songs weren’t mine—I could say they were imagined. This gave me a sense of safety, allowing me to hide my true thoughts and feelings behind my art. When the pandemic ended and life returned to its normal pace, I realized I couldn’t go back to living as I had before. After experiencing the inspiration and freedom of creativity, I could no longer follow the paths others had chosen for me. Since then, my life has completely changed.
- You made the brave decision to step away from studies and a traditional career to pursue music full-time. What led to that decision, and how did you navigate the challenges of such a big shift?
Depression was the main catalyst. I felt like I was living someone else’s life—pursuing a traditional career felt like being trapped in a prison with no greater purpose. My desire to feel alive again and support my mental well-being led me to realize that I needed to reject ways of living that felt burdensome to me. The challenges I’ve faced are similar to those I would encounter on a more traditional path—you still have to figure things out and improvise. The difference is that, in my case, I have no illusions of stability, and I’ve learned to embrace the unpredictability.
- Your music is deeply personal and authentic. Can you walk us through your creative process when writing your songs? How do you bring your music to life?
Firstly, I think of my music as being created in four dimensions because the process is anything but linear. For example, I might compose a melody and instrumental track without any idea of its meaning. Months later, something might happen that overwhelms me with emotions I need to express, and I realize that the melody I created fits perfectly with that feeling and story. Sometimes, I finish songs quickly; other times, the process takes months. Each song has its own unique temperament and pace—it’s almost like interacting with a living being and figuring out what it wants from me. What remains constant is that I need to process my emotions and experiences before I create. I strive to be specific, carefully selecting the right words to express something complex and meaningful. My goal is always to translate those feelings into something authentic and relatable.
- People often compare to you to Billie Eilish, how to do react to it and who are your musical influences, and how have they shaped your style?
In the past, being compared to Billie Eilish used to bother me because I’ve never tried to copy anyone. It felt like people were accusing me of stealing my identity or style. But over time, I realized that comparisons are natural—it’s just how the brain works when people try to make sense of something new. Now, I take it as a compliment, especially when the comparison is to such a talented artist. My musical influences are quite chaotic, ranging from The Beatles and Linkin Park to Joji, Billie Eilish, Alec Benjamin, and many others. It’s less about the popularity of the artist and more about a sense of resonance—when I feel a connection to their energy or message, I hold onto that piece of art for a long time. Recently, I’ve been deeply inspired by jazz, hip-hop, and lo-fi, which have significantly shaped the album I’m currently working on. These genres have helped me explore new textures and emotions in my music.
- You come from a bloodline of Yunus Rajabiy. Has your family’s musical legacy and your heritage overall influenced the way you make and approach your art?
I wasn’t in touch with my Rajabiy side of the family until recently. However, when I started feeling drawn to national instruments and sounds, I reached out to my relatives for guidance. It became a sort of family reunion, and I realized that, in a way, I am continuing my family’s legacy. My mixed background and inability to fully fit into traditional norms have shaped my approach, allowing me to carry on this legacy on an international level. While my predecessors worked to unite folklore music through maqom, my goal is to unite people’s experiences globally through my art—helping them feel closer to one another than they might have imagined.
- What are struggles you have faced as an independent musician who refuses to follow common traditional ways of fame in the music world?
One of the biggest struggles I’ve faced is coming to terms with the fact that fame often has little to do with creativity or art. I’ve been advised to use certain techniques or methods to become popular, but they never made me happy. For some, the journey into music starts with passion, but the push to monetize it can turn something beloved into something draining. When my song Home went viral, I realized that fame didn’t bring me nearly as much fulfillment as the creative process itself. I’m not willing to work hard for things that don’t align with my values or goals. For example: Writing an album with complex topics and dedicating years to creating everything manually? Absolutely, I’ll do that.
Churning out countless reels just to chase fame? Definitely not. I choose to prioritize authenticity and depth in my work, even if it means taking a less conventional path. Another major struggle is how the music industry artificially forces artists to speed up. This creates a huge challenge for slow-paced artists like me. I’ve had to come to terms with the fact that I don’t have the physical or emotional resources to keep up with that relentless tempo and competition.
I’ve also had to embrace the idea that my ambitions shouldn’t interfere with my art. To keep my work sincere and authentic, I’ve learned to prioritize the quality of the creative process over the pressure to produce quickly or meet industry standards. It’s been a journey of accepting that my pace is part of what makes my art genuine.
- What is the ultimate goal you want to achieve as a musician?
I used to tie my ultimate goal to awards or recognition, but now I don’t see it that way. Honestly, my goal is less about measurable achievements and more about continuing to explore the world, capturing my experiences and thoughts through art. I want my music to be something people can turn to for comfort—even long after I’m gone. While I do want to grow internationally, none of those goals matter if I’m not enjoying the process. For me, the journey itself—creating and connecting with others—is what truly matters.
- Are there any new projects or collaborations you’re excited about?
The main project I’m focused on right now is finishing and releasing my album. Beyond that, I’m excited about meeting professionals who are willing to share their skills and help bring my creative ideas to life. I see myself as an intuitive creator—I may not have hard technical skills, but I thrive on generating ideas and collaborating with others to turn them into reality. My ultimate goal is to build a team that shares this vision and wants to create on an international scale. The area where I feel I lack the most expertise is the business side of music. That’s why I’m looking for collaborators who can handle the business and promotional aspects, allowing me and others on the team to focus fully on the creative process.
- As someone who’s taken the leap to follow your passion, what advice would you offer to young people who might be unsure about chasing their dreams in the arts?
It's okay to have a non-art-related job that supports your passion. Balancing a job with your creative dreams is possible if you regulate the obsession with making money. Media often glamorizes overnight success stories, but the reality is, having financial stability can give you more freedom and flexibility in your art by taking the pressure off monetizing it. Set clear priorities. Knowing your purpose and goals in art is crucial when facing pressure from the industry. If you don’t define what you want, the industry will decide for you—and that path may not align with your mental health or authentic self. Remember why you started. Always protect the joy and purpose behind your art. Don’t let external pressures or expectations steal the feeling that made you create in the first place. Embrace a balanced approach. If you want a sustainable, long-term career, forget the “locked-in-a-basement” myth of sacrificing everything for fame. Burning out is inevitable with that mindset. Instead, learn to balance all aspects of life—your personal life, work, dreams, travels, and family. You may progress more slowly, but in the end, you’ll feel fulfilled and won’t regret what you missed along the way.
Photо: Amore Leore