Dailla isn’t here to play safe, and “Twisted Heart” proves it. From the first beat, the track is a glitter-drenched ride through the highs and lows of toxic attraction. Think late-night club lights mixed with the sting of déjà vu heartbreak. The chorus — “Stepping on my twisted heart” — is the kind of line that lodges itself in your chest and your head at the same time. Painful? Yes. Catchy? Even more so. Dailla takes the sting of a bad romance and spins it into something irresistible. It’s the kind of song you blast when you know better, but you also know you’re going back for more. Dangerous love never sounded so fun.
“Twisted Heart” feels both painful and euphoric — how did you strike that balance when writing it?
Thank you for having me! Honestly, that’s what the song is about — knowing something isn’t good for you, but chasing it anyway. It’s messy and it hurts, but there’s also this rush that feels addictive. And even though the lyrics cut deep, the production is intentionally dance-like, as I believe that’s how many of us deal with heartbreak — we dance it out instead of sitting still with it.
What was the first spark of inspiration behind the song — a real experience, a story, or pure imagination?
Definitely real life. Sometimes your heart just screams go for it even when you know you shouldn’t, right? Been there, done that. The song itself actually came together in the studio with Marcell — he was jamming on the guitar and played what became the pre-chorus, and I knew instantly that was it. This time the melody showed up first, and then the lyrics followed.
The line ‘Stepping on my twisted heart’ is so striking. Did that lyric come early in the process, or did it emerge later?
That one came super early. It just felt so visual — like you can literally picture someone stomping on your heart while you’re still standing there letting it happen. Once we started working on the chorus, even though the melody came first, that phrase kind of found itself right away. I immediately heard it in my head with the rhythm and melody, and it just clicked — it was exciting.
Your production choices — glittering synths over pulsing beats — make heartbreak sound like a celebration. Was that contrast intentional?
Yes, totally. I didn’t want it to be a sad ballad — I wanted something people could actually move to. I think a lot of fans will relate, because sometimes the best way to process being angry or sad is to just sing it at the top of your lungs and dance it out. That’s what makes the contrast fun.
How do you want listeners to feel after blasting “Twisted Heart” in their headphones or at a club?
Like they don’t have to hide their chaos. I want people to feel like it’s okay to make mistakes, want the wrong thing, and just let it out. Blast it, scream it, dance along to it — instead of pretending you’ve got it all figured out.
Pop music often walks a fine line between vulnerability and catchiness. How do you approach writing songs that feel both honest and infectious?
I always start with the real feelings, even if they’re uncomfortable. Then I try to write it in a way you can scream in your car or sing with your friends. I always find it really exciting when a melody gets stuck in your head — I think that’s a big part of what pulls people in. Being honest is not easy, but through music, it feels a little lighter, even kind of prettier. That’s what I love most — combining openness and vulnerability with stories that are still catchy.
Do you see “Twisted Heart” as part of a larger story in your upcoming music, or does it stand alone as its own statement?
All of my singles have their own worlds—visuals, stories, emotions. But gradually, they’re starting to connect into a bigger picture. Twisted Heart is one of those pieces that shows a bolder, more dance-driven side. Maybe over time it will become part of a larger project, but for now, I want each song to have its own space to breathe.
You describe the track as not “playing it safe.” What risks did you take musically or emotionally when creating it?
The risk was showing a different side of myself—more dance-driven, more extroverted. Until then, I mostly lived in a more intimate and melancholic space (Running Wild or Some Love). With Twisted Heart, I allowed myself to let out more energy and playfulness. My songs are always about emotions—I’m not afraid to show rawness or to call things as I feel them, without sugarcoating. That openness may feel risky, but it’s also what makes the music real.
Fans are already calling this a dance-floor heartbreak anthem. How do you feel about your music becoming part of people’s personal stories?
That’s the best part. If someone’s crying to it at 2 a.m. or dancing with their best friends at a party — it means the song isn’t just mine anymore, it’s theirs too. I love that we’re slowly building a community around the music, creating stories together, and seeing that the song is relatable to people is such a rewarding feeling. That’s the reason I do what I do.
Looking ahead, where do you see your sound evolving after “Twisted Heart”? Do you plan to lean more into the glitter, the grit, or both?
Both. I really like being playful with the sound, and I want to keep that creative freedom to discover new directions. Glitter and grit will always be part of me, but I’m also working on new projects that dive into different sides of who I am — some more vulnerable, some rougher, and some exploring themes I haven’t touched before. Each song feels like it opens up a new piece of my world, and I can’t wait for people to hear what’s coming.
