I’m unsure if the best word to describe SADBOYMUSIC is eclectic. With his experimentations fusing house, hyper-pop elements and R&B, as a listener you’re unsure if were in 1985, 2025 or 2125. From the 80’s synths on tracks like “Long Island” to “tequilaFLINGS (software update)” a short moody lust filled banger, driven with a heavy backing beat, you’re sure to find something that resonates.
Written by Eric Irby
PB: Introduce yourself, your location and what you do?
SBM: I’m SADBOYMUSIC—artist, producer, and storyteller from Roosevelt, Long Island, NY. I make genre-bending music that sounds like if heartbreak had a hard drive and healing had a beat. Everything I do is built from emotion, memory, and future-thinking.
PB: Let’s start with the basics — for folks who are just discovering your music, how would you describe the SADBOYMUSIC sound and vibe?
SBM: It’s emotional tech. Pop meets the glitch in your system. Think alt-R&B floating in cyber-futurism, but still grounded in raw honesty. I grew up loving Britney, Björk, Gaga, Dawn Richard (Danity Kane)—so my sound pulls from big feeling, bold choices, and a little distortion.
PB: How did you come up with the name SADBOYMUSIC?

SBM: The name came out of reclaiming softness. I’ve always felt things deeply, and for a long time that felt like a weakness. But as I started writing and producing, I realized my sensitivity was actually my superpower. Sadness became sonic. And honestly, as Black men, we’re not always given the space to showcase what hurt feels like—or even given time to process our emotions. What I discovered is that sadness was one of the hardest emotions for me, and for a lot of others too. SADBOYMUSIC became my way of saying it’s okay for Black men to express and experience any emotion, not just the ones that are seen as “strong.” It’s about making room to process it and, eventually, find the route to healing.
PB: Who are some of your musical influences?
SBM: Definitely Dawn Richard—she taught me you can shapeshift and still stay true. Charli XCX, Imogen Heap, Donna Missal, Björk. Gaga for her vision. Tinashe for her movement. Even FKA twigs, PARTYNEXTDOOR, The Code, and Azealia Banks sneak in—anyone who challenges form and blends emotion with edge.
PB: I noticed that on your most recent project, you collaborated with the likes of acts like Yawny and Amir.; talk about that and what decisions you make when collaborating with other artists?
SBM: Yawny and Amir—man, we’re truly a tribe. We just get each other sonically and creatively. When we work, we don’t even have to be in the same room to feel like we’re in the same room. That connection is rare. When it comes to collaboration, it has to make sense. I’m not trying to be the artist that just has a bunch of features slapped on a track if it doesn’t fit who I am or what the song needs. Even when I invite artists onto my records, I always tell them: don’t give me what’s closest to SADBOY. Bring you. Be yourself. Body the record your way. That’s when the magic really happens.
PB: TIDES of the MOON… feels like a deeply personal journey. What inspired the themes of heartbreak, healing, and transformation throughout the album?
SBM: This album was my way of processing everything I couldn’t say out loud. Grief, breakups, change, losing myself and finding the newer version on the other side. It’s about how life keeps pulling you like the tide—and the moon is the part of you that still dreams, still desires, still believes. It’s water and code. It’s soft and sharp.

PB: The opening track, “the TIDES… (boot sequence),” sets a unique tone. Can you share the concept behind this introduction and how it frames the rest of the album?
SBM: It’s like the ocean booting up. That track is me logging back into myself after everything shut down. The melodies in the lead vocal crash like waves—I wanted it to feel like I’m fighting to stay afloat, gasping just beneath the surface. Sonically, it’s meant to be overwhelming on purpose. Just like when you start up your computer and click one thing, and suddenly a bunch of programs launch at once—that’s what this album felt like emotionally. Everything hit at once: memories, regrets, desire, healing. That intro sets the tone for the tidal wave that follows.
PB: “Kind of HARD” delves into the pain of moving on. What was the creative process behind this track, and what message were you aiming to convey?
SBM: That one came from a place of brutal honesty. Sometimes we pretend like we’ve moved on when really, we’re still scrolling through old texts, still wondering “why?” I produced it like a confrontation—heavy bass, aggressive rhythm—but layered in my vocal vulnerability. It’s saying, “I’m good… but also, I’m lying.”
PB: In “Knew Shoes,” there’s a sense of renewal and falling in love anew. How does this song reflect your personal growth or experiences?
SBM: “Knew Shoes” is me stepping into softness again. After everything, I had to relearn how to receive love—real love, not just the pretty performance of it. It’s a reminder that I can start fresh, and that new love doesn’t have to come with the same pain as the past.
PB: The track “tequilaFlings <software update>” has an intriguing title. Can you explain the meaning behind it and how it fits into the album’s narrative?
SBM: That song is me trying to numb pain with lust. I never had that “wild phase”—I was always the good boy, always choosing love over thrill. But after heartbreak and everything I went through, I felt this urge to explore myself in a different way, even if it was messy or dangerous. “tequilaFlings” is about chasing fleeting moments, knowing they won’t fix you—but needing them anyway. The “<software update>” part is a glitchy little reminder that I told myself I was evolving… but maybe I was just rebooting the same cycle.
PB: The album blends cyber-futurism with raw emotion, symbolized by the ‘Cyborg’ metaphor. How does this duality represent your current artistic identity?
SBM: I feel like a cyborg emotionally. Part of me has to armor up to survive this world, especially as a Black queer artist. But inside, I’m still very human—feeling everything, even when I try to override it. That duality is the core of my music: armor vs vulnerability, hardware vs heart.
PB: Reflecting on your previous works, how does TIDES of the MOON… signify your evolution as an artist and individual?
SBM: This project is about releasing control. On my last projects, you saw me all over the credits—I was hands-on with everything. But TIDES of the MOON… taught me the power of letting go. This time, I stepped back from certain responsibilities like mixing, mastering, styling, photography, production and even some of the writing. I trusted my collaborators and let the process flow like the tides. That shift allowed me to grow not just as an artist, but as a person. I made space for others to pour into the vision—and in turn, the vision expanded beyond just me.

PB: Looking ahead, what do you hope listeners take away from this album, and how do you envision your music evolving in the future?
SBM: I hope people feel seen in their mess, in their magic, and in their transitions. I hope they realize healing isn’t linear—and sometimes it sounds like bass and static and tears in vocoder. As for the future? I’m already dreaming of the next transmission. I want to go even deeper. Bigger stages. Bolder visuals. Bolder sounds. More truth. I’m not done evolving.
Check out Tides of the Moon here!
Credits:
Photography – Ryan Hamilton
Photography Assistance – Tarik Carrol
Styling & Grooming
Styling – Jaciaihus Watson Grooming – Kareem Maliekk Hair – Chantel Bennett Haircut – Al Cameron
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