Introduce us to you and your musical history.

I’m Lucy, I’m an artist and activist, and I make music under the name mimike. I learned piano as a kid and started composing when I was tiny. I spent the last few years on and off, playing keys with various electronic outfits, like Amateur Best in the UK, and Shybois in Hungary. Now, I spend my days plotting to overthrow fossil capitalism, and my nights crafting moody songs to cry along to.

What made you decide that music is a thing for you?

I have been a musician forever. Growing up, as a shy, queer kid in the countryside, music was a life-saving sanctuary for me. Making music became my way of creating some kind of meaning in life. 

The music industry is the hardest industry in the world to progress in, how do you feel you are doing?

I’ve dipped in and out of the industry for years, so my progress definitely hasn’t been linear. More of a zig zag. Right now I’d say I’m on a zig.

As you develop as an artist and develop using socials, what ways do you get new ears on your music? Any tips?

No tips because self-promotion is actual torture. My only advice is to lean into the cringe. You can’t control everything, ultimately people will either like you or they won’t. So I guess just do what you want!

I’m seeing a lot of debate about women not feeling safe at music gigs, any thoughts on what we need to do to help?

There’s a lot to say here, but ultimately, men can help by not attacking women anymore.

What was the first song you heard that steered you into a music path?

Not the first, but when I was about 20 a friend sent me Only Skin by Joanna Newsom. At the time I was frustrated that nothing I was writing seemed to fit together into a neat 4-minute radio edit, and then there was this 17 minute-long apocalyptic fable that was just divine start to finish. I remember thinking something like, “I didn’t know we were allowed to do that!” I get so excited when a band or artist makes me feel that way, it feels like someone’s kicked open a door you never knew was there.

Tell us Two truths and a lie about you.

I once served Kiera knightley a margherita

I once served Denise Chaila a beef bourguignon

I once served Adele a lasagne

What are your thoughts on Spotify’s monopoly on the music industry?

I think musicians should unionise

Did you buy anything you didn’t need during the pandemic?

The pandemic is still happening and last week I bought a skateboard on Roblox

What was the worst gig experience?

I played keys with Amateur Best through nine months of pregnancy – we did one gig in Madrid during the early days and I had the worst morning sickness of my life. We had an early morning flight and I spent the whole day sleeping and puking in my hotel room. I think the gig itself went OK but I have zero memories of it because I was completely delirious. Rock n roll

Tell us something about you that you think people would be surprised about.

I can speak some Hungarian (not loads but it’s hard) – I chose the artist name mimike (pronounced mee-mee-keh) because that’s what my Hungarian family calls me.

What makes you stand out as an artist?

I think art, imagination, and creativity are fundamental to social change. I think it’s obvious that things are pretty fucked right now and we need to deeply transform all the systems we live by, as humans. Our heart and soul need to be in it. As an artist, I’m interested in opening up new windows of possibility and helping to make the revolution feel irresistible.   

I hear you have new music, what can you tell us about it.

I’m releasing my first single as mimike on 21 April. It’s called Abundance and it’s a song about holding back and letting go, protection and connection, fear and love, scarcity and abundance.

Talk me through the thought process of the new tune.

I think Abundance was quite an important song for me because it’s my debut release, but also it’s a song about daring to step out and be vulnerable. I’ve been sitting to a lot of music for a long time. At some point, I thought, does music even exist if it’s not being played, listened to, or shared? It’s like being in love, and never telling the person. I wrote Abundance as a pep talk to myself. Music is world-building, and this song manifested its own release.

What was the recording process like?

I recorded Abundance in my bedroom. I made a mic booth out of a couple of old blankets and some coat hangers. 

What was the biggest learning curve in writing the new tunes?

Abundance is the first of a handful of tracks I’m releasing this year. A couple of other tracks have been written collaboratively with Swedish-Hungarian artist Antonia Vai. It’s the first time I’ve made music in a real 50-50 collaborative way, and as someone who’s used to having total creative control, it’s been revolutionary. If you get it right, and there is trust and respect, the quality of the music just reaches a whole new level. 

Would you change anything now that it’s finished?

I’m so scared of listening to tracks once they’re ‘finished’ and mastered and ready to go. I just know I’ll listen back and hear a million things I want to change. So, the answer is yes, nothing’s ever really finished, but at some point, you’ve just got to stop working yourself into an unending spiral of indulgence and get the thing out the door.

Is there anything else you would like to share with the world?

Be gay, do crime