With the release of her debut EP, paper girls, a seven-track journey through growing pains, glitter, and the brittle armour of being put-together, rising pop singer-songwriter Mya Angelique invites listeners into the gorgeously complex world of teenage girlhood. We caught up with the songstress to discuss the release and more.
Can you walk us through the earliest seed of paper girls. When did you know you were building an EP?
I don’t think I really sat down one day and decided to make an EP. It kind of built itself slowly over time. I was writing these songs that felt like they were part of the same story, the same girl, just at different stages of figuring herself out. Once I had a few of them together, I started noticing the themes of girlhood and identity showing up again and again, and that’s when I realized I was building something bigger than just a collection of songs and a continuity started to form.
Your lyrics are incredibly detailed and emotionally layered. How do you usually start writing a song? Melody, phrase, or vibe?
Thank you so much. I never really had to try and write a song, it kind of just happens if I’m being totally honest. When a song comes to me, it’s like a puzzle, as if the songs are already finished, they’ve been written, I’m just trying to decode it. It’s like when you wake up from a dream and you remember bits and pieces but the rest is foggy, it’s kind of like that for me. However, I do go to Berklee College of Music (music school) and when it comes to timed writing assignments where I don’t have the luxury to just see what happens melody and lyric very much so go hand in hand for me, I’ve never really been able to separate the two.
What song on the EP changed the most from its original version to the final studio track?
That definitely has to be “sixteen”, I think the only thing I kept from the original version was the bridge. I wrote so many different versions of that song that I thought it just wasn’t going to end up on the EP because nothing felt right. At one point it was like a six minute song because I couldn’t narrow down the verses. Which isn’t super odd for me, pretty much all the songs on this EP have verses that will never see the light of day.
How has your time at Berklee shaped or challenged your musical instincts as a pop artist?
It’s definitely pushed me to think differently. Before Berklee, I mostly wrote based on instinct, I still do but don’t tell anybody, whatever felt right you know? But now I’m surrounded by so many talented people with so many different styles and perspectives. Sometimes that’s really affirming, and other times it makes me second-guess everything. But I think that push and pull has helped me grow. I’m still not a technical or music theory focused writer and if I’m being honest, I’m not sure I ever will be but it’s made me reevaluate how I write. It’s taught me that you can be technical and still emotional and that the two aren’t mutually exclusive.
You grew up in San Juan. How did that environment influence your relationship with music?
Growing up in San Juan, music was just around all the time. It wasn’t this big formal thing, it was loud, spontaneous, joyful, emotional. It was my mom playing music in the kitchen while she cooked or on the drive to school in the morning, it was always around. I think that’s stayed with me, even though the music I make now sounds really different from what I grew up with. There’s something about that openness that music is meant to be felt first, before anything else, I think that shaped me early on. I also think growing up there gave me a specific sense of rhythm and intensity, even if it’s not always obvious in my songs.
“teenage girl nationality” balances humor and pain so beautifully. How did you strike that tone without losing emotional depth?
That song was honestly a risk for me, it felt super specific, and I wasn’t sure if people would get it. But I wanted to write something that felt like if a group chat turned into a panic attack. Like the way teenage girls use jokes to hide everything we don’t know how to say out loud. It’s funny until it’s not. That balance felt really honest to me, because girlhood is often about laughing through the ache even in the messy disastrous moments. And I think that honesty is what keeps it from tipping too far in either direction.
What was the biggest lesson you learned while making this project from start to finish?
That no one is going to hand you permission. You have to decide your voice matters even when it feels small or messy or not “important enough.” I spent a long time wondering if these songs were too personal or too niche, but once I let go of that and just focused on telling the truth, things clicked into place. So yeah, the biggest lesson was probably to trust myself, even when I’m terrified.
The EP flows like a story. Was that intentional? Did you sequence the tracks with a narrative arc in mind?
Yes, completely intentional. Once all the songs were finished, I laid them out like chapters. I wanted it to feel like someone growing up in real time, like by the end, you’ve watched her fall apart and put herself back together again, piece by piece. The first track starts with panic, and the last ends in quiet acceptance. It’s not a happy ending, but it’s a softer one. One where she isn’t quite content yet with who she is because she really isn’t done growing up yet but at least she got through the worst of it.
What’s something about the music industry or songwriting world you’ve learned that surprised you?
That vulnerability is both the hardest and most valuable currency. I used to think writing something deeply personal made it too “specific” to resonate with others, but it’s the opposite. The more honest I am, the more people tell me, “This is exactly how I feel.” That surprised me in the best way. Also: how many amazing songs exist that we’ll never hear because someone was too scared to share them. That breaks my heart.
If paper girls had a visual world, a film, a fashion aesthetic, or a mood board, what would it look like?
If I could build the world of paper girls, it would probably be a mix of 10 Things I Hate About You, Wildchild and The Perks of Being a Wallflower, with some Freaks and Geeks sprinkled in. It’s messy bedrooms and school hallways that feel like battlefields. It’s handwritten notes passed in class, motto boots with, with mini skirts, crying in the bathroom at a house party, and driving nowhere just to feel like you’re going somewhere.
