TRACE is a singer, songwriter, producer, and instrumentalist whose work reflects her bodily, gendered experience. Based in Cologne, she crafts a transgressive pop universe with guitars, multifaceted production, and vocals that shift between ethereal softness and raw intensity.
Her 2023 debut album, FUCKING AND DREAMING, challenged perceptions of transness, offering a radical exploration of identity through lush dream-pop soundscapes, emotional vulnerability, and unapologetic honesty. The album redefined how trans narratives could be expressed in music, making TRACE a bold voice in contemporary pop artistry.
With her sophomore album, T4TEARS (2025), TRACE explores trans childhood, grief, and healing, blending dream-pop with delicate, organic textures. Working with her voice, guitar, and effects, her process draws on poetry, improvisation, and collaboration with queer artists.
TRACE’s live performances captivate audiences, with standout shows at the Cologne Philharmonic and Whole Festival. T4TEARS marks her most vulnerable and daring work, reconnecting with her younger trans self through raw lyrics and acoustic elements.
What sparked the creation of T4TEARS, and what story did you set out to tell through this album?
I have this huge space inside myself filled with grief and mourning. It is continually being refilled by the various forms of fascism in this world. That space was already opened up when I was a trans child and teenager, unsure of where to turn or how to make sense of the things I felt. I didn’t know there were others like me, and it would take another ten to twenty years to discover that. For a long time, I despised that child. I wanted to kill her, to rid myself of her, and, in the process, to kill myself as well.
T4TEARS became my way of moving closer to that child and teenager, of trying to sit in a room with her, even though I really didn’t want to. But I felt that I needed to forgive her, to hug her, love her, ask her for forgiveness—if I wanted to continue living. So that’s what I tried to do.
You’ve called this project a reconnection with your younger trans self—what was the most transformative moment in that process?
The most transformative moments were probably when I felt I had actually come close to what I set out to achieve—that I was genuinely having a conversation with my younger self, actually hugging or caressing her. Or when I felt that others—their words, their voices, their instrumentation—were doing it with me or for me, while they were also doing the same thing for themselves.
How did collaborating with your chosen family of queer artists shape the album?
It was instrumental this time around to have other people keep me and my younger self company, to open up that very solitary trans childhood and teenage space to community. It’s a way of refusing to leave that child alone and also refusing to be alone in the present.
In making the album, it meant I had to trust others as much as I trust myself in creating. That in itself became a beautiful, flowing, and connective process. It also meant I had to relinquish control in a liberating way so others could be just as central to shaping the narrative of the album as I was—sometimes even more so.
If you had to choose one song from T4TEARS to listen to forever, which one would it be and why?
It’s counterintuitive for me to pick favorites on this album, but if I had to choose right now, I’d probably go with “everything i want to say is here”. The song features two very good friends of mine—Ráhel Eckstein-Kovács on harp and Jenny Browne, who wrote and speaks the words on the track.
The way the instruments and voice listen and respond to one another is so beautiful to me. Jenny’s words, written in response to the rest of the album, oscillate and vibrate with my vision in a way that touches me on such a deep level.
I also just love their voice and the way everything dissolves with the music into this perfect poetic mixture of mourning, depression, longing, intimacy, sex, and transformation.
What's your favorite/least favorite thing about making music?
In the best case, music continually surprises me and lets me touch or approach something I didn’t know I could. Like with this album—you kind of have to take a leap of faith when making music, but if you do, you’re often gifted with so much in return.
The one thing I hate about making the music I make is that it’s not economically sustainable—and it never will be. I can’t do it all the time like I would love to.
If you had to describe your music using three words, what would they be?
Defiant, aching, joyful.
3 things you can’t live without in your bag
My hormones, my antidepressants, and my sleeping pills.
What are you listening to at the moment?
Lately, I’ve been stuck on Klara Lewis’s track “Thankful”. It’s an incredibly beautiful, lush piece, full of longing, sadness, and despair. Despite that, I always come back to Cleo Sol’s “Mother” every other day. Both give me a sense of calm, which I desperately need.
