IN CONVERSATION WITH COBRAH

interview by TIMOTEJ LETONJA

With Torn, COBRAH enters a new era — and with it, a new kind of exposure. Moving beyond the club-ready provocations that defined her earlier EPs, the album captures a moment of vulnerability, anxiety, and expansion. Instead of shedding skin, she’s stretching into it while documenting growing pains, fractured fantasies, and the fragile thrill of becoming.

all images courtesy of COBRAH

Torn is your first full-length album, but it also feels like a personal rupture. What, specifically, had to be torn away for this record to exist?

I don’t think something had to be torn away. It’s more about opening up — spreading out into wider things. I’ve been trying to explain it like I’m not leaving something behind, I’m opening more doors.

When I was writing this album, I realised I’d done so many EPs. They don’t all sound the same, but they all have the same vibe and core: very sexual lyrics over a house beat, kind of repetitive, not songs, but lyrics. When I started writing the album, I tried to make that type of music again, and it just didn’t feel inspiring.

So I started writing new types of music, and that was really painful for my head, because I was struggling with thoughts like: what if this won’t be successful? The reason it’s called Torn is because it’s like growing pains — like stretch marks. Something good will come out of it, but there’s vulnerability too.

You’ve often worked through characters, extremes, and fantasy. On Torn, you describe presenting your “real self as a character.” Where is the line between authenticity and performance for you now?

I tried to step away from the character. When I did the Succubus EP, that was more me doing myself, but as a character — as the succubus. With Torn, I’m not portraying myself as anyone other than myself. That’s the key element. And especially with the visuals: the first one is me battling myself with the twin. And with the Hush video that just came out, it’s fragile and sexy, but honest. It’s a love-me story. I’m not wearing a wig. I’m being very present. I’m speaking, I’m on a date, I’m trying to be very, very present in this work.

Your vocal approach on Torn is more melodic and exposed than before. Why did this feel like the right moment to let that language come through?

I felt like I was playing the same clubs over and over again. I could see the end game in the music that I did, and I wanted to play other types of venues. I wanted new experiences. I’m also a musician first, and I can do lots more than this very specific thing I created — the thing I’m known for.

And I think with an EP, you get five songs and then you’re done. It has to be very straightforward, very to the point. But with an album, you get to be more diverse and still tell a story. I did 11 songs, but it might as well have been 15. It was my first real opportunity to show that I’m also a songwriter.

Dog is confrontational on the surface, but emotionally it’s about commitment and permanence. Were you surprised by that revelation yourself?

Dog wasn’t supposed to be on the album. The album was done in summer 2025 — it was mastered, sent to the label, ready for printing. It was supposed to come out earlier, but there was one song on the album that I didn’t think was very good. It was kind of the downer of the whole thing, and I was like: we need to remove it.

I had this other demo called Dog that I had just written, and I thought we should switch it out. So I had to finish it really quickly. Usually I’m very meticulous, very perfectionist, but with Dog we didn’t have time — it had to be done in a punky, fast way. I had one or two weeks. I think that’s also why it sounds a little punk-ish. And the whole vibe of Torn is this emotional back and forth — it goes from Torn, which is anxiety and battling, into IG and Platinum, where you feel like you’re at fashion shows and you’re the pop star, then back into Hush and Charming, and then Dog.

It’s constantly on the line between euphoria and total despair. And Dog is the peak of that despair. It’s about not wanting to live anymore because you don’t get what you want when you meet someone. You have fantasies about what life is going to be like, and then it doesn’t turn out that way, and you get angry and frustrated.

I think people are surprised that I express a want or a need for human connection, because I’m so known for being the girl that says “suck my clit.” But I’m trying to be close to the truth on this album, and that’s a very real truth. And I do really want a dog — but I can’t have one because I’m a touring artist. So yeah… it’s very human.

The album artwork feels almost surgical — transformative, but restrictive. How does fashion function as both armour and exposure in your world?

That’s a good way to phrase it. I like to use fashion in a way where it’s almost painful. I like a really tight corset, I like a really high heel.

The skin dress was made by an Australian artist called Julian Tamaze, and I knew I wanted it as the cover. I wanted to be covered in stretch marks, because I felt like that was the correct representation of what the album feels like. But then I saw this dress he made, and I asked if he could create a custom one, adding all these stretch marks. Even when we shot the cover, he had to glue me into the dress for three hours. I was really sick, and I would faint on set. I had to lie down while he glued it onto me, because as soon as I stood up, I would fall.

I use fashion as a way of pushing myself to the limit. It’s about endorphins. It’s like an extreme sport — the higher up you go, the more you jump off a cliff, the cooler it is. That’s how I feel: the more extreme I can push myself within fashion, the more interesting it becomes. As soon as someone gives me a t-shirt, it feels disgusting. Why would you put me in something comfortable? I’m up for the challenge of fashion.

It’s like music — you create something in your head and you become someone. Even if you wear a t-shirt, you’re a guy that wears a t-shirt. Fashion is identity. And I think part of why I do music is because I’m in love with all the different ways of being creative. Fashion is just another extension of that world. So yeah, I think fashion is an extreme sport.

Working with producers like Illangelo and Machinedrum, how did you protect the emotional core of the album while expanding your sound?

I only work with people I’ve met before, people I know. I wrote the whole album — all the lyrics and everything — together with my two friends. And when we were finishing it up, I had two songs: Unoriginal with Machinedrum and Snow White with Illangelo.

I sent them to the producers individually and said: I have this song, and I think you would be great on it — because I already knew them as producers.

So the collaborations are very intentional, and only with friends. I like to keep things in the family. Sometimes you see songs where there are seven artists on them, and you can tell it’s been sent around and pieced together. But I’m very meticulous. Everything is curated with love. I wouldn’t let anyone touch what I do unless I’ve met them in person. I need to know there’s respect and kindness.

As your world expands into fashion weeks, major festivals, and global stages, what do you want to protect as your career grows?

My artistic integrity, as much as I can. And my intuition. I think that’s the core of being an artist — what I like, what I don’t like, what I wear, what I don’t wear. All the decisions I make every day: what’s on the merch, what isn’t, what colour is this, what colour is the poster.

I make decisions about everything in my career based on what I think looks good and feels true to me. And every day you’re challenged into compromising that, because the bigger you are, the more likely it becomes that you’ll say: well, there’s a deadline, I guess I have to approve this even though I don’t like it. So as I’m growing, I try to keep saying no, and stay mindful that everything has to come from a place where I genuinely like it.

If Torn documents a moment of becoming, who do you sense you’re becoming next?

I don’t think I’m finished with being torn yet. We have this big tour coming up, and I think we’re going to extend it even longer.

I feel like I’m finally getting to live inside the world I envisioned. When we went from 2024 to 2025, I was already making plans for what the videos would look like, what my alien monster would look like, what the cover would look like — and now it’s finally out.

I’m excited to enjoy that it exists in the world, and that I can live and breathe the album, because for so long I’ve just had it for myself. So I’m not really ready to move on. Not yet.