With just two tracks behind him (“Met A Girl” and “Goodnight Baby”), the exceptional indie-pop, New York-based artist known as Tarune has organically garnered an impressive 13 million streams to date. However, Tarune is now taking another massive step on his unique artistic path with his new single “ma 間,” which depicts a rather personal journey of introspection and growth, drawing from his childhood experiences in order to genuinely bare his soul through music.

The essence of the soul-stirring single “ma 間” encapsulates a spiritually cleansing narrative with enriching revelations, and self-discovery at its core, as Tarune revisits the emotional landscape of his early years when his mother's departure to Taiwan altered his life on a profound level. Through this musical odyssey, Tarune bravely confronts his innermost fears and vulnerabilities, transforming his narrative of somber distance into a tale of empowerment and resilience. And with a brilliant combination of honesty in his lyrics is mirrored by the heartfelt delivery of his sincere vocals, faint guitar compositions, or retro-competent melodies, the self-made artist engineers an intimate ambiance that lives up to the force of his carefully crafted discography.

As Tarune's musical narrative unfolds with “ma 間,” and his upcoming summer project coming soon, we’re talking to the bedroom-pop powerhouse about every aspect of his impactful brand of creativity.

Firstly, congratulations on your new single 'ma 間' which is really a captivating, soulful track. Can you elaborate on its origin and what this song represents to you? 

Tarune: Dang. I really appreciate you saying that. Well, it started last year during this series of intense therapy sessions where I was doing “inner child” work. My two best friends Ivanna and Charlie had been doing this special kind of “shadow work” therapy, and I was curious about it since it’d seemed really powerful for them. I brought it up with my therapist, who had experience with it too, and she started guiding me to speak to my younger self, to sort of get to the “core” of my abandonment trauma, which is all about how my mom left when I was pretty young. 

During all of that, I was constantly feeling super raw, and one night I was doodling on the guitar, found these pretty chords, and just started singing, imagining I was speaking directly to my mother. I pressed record on my voice memos and just let it fly, as a sort of self-therapy, (I start a lot of my songs this way) and then I tweaked it from there. That’s why the structure is kinda weird — it really was just me playing these chords on the guitar and then singing out my feelings, linearly. The title, “ma 間“ carries multiple meanings: in Japanese, it translates to “the space in between” or “negative space”, or “emptiness”. It’s a concept I was inspired by after reading this interview with Hayao Miyazaki. Also, of course, “ma” is short for “mother”. I called it that because, through this period, I learned my relationship with my mom was really specifically with this space she’d left behind.

What do you hope listeners take away from 'ma 間', and how do you envision it fitting into your upcoming artist project?

Tarune: It comes as the first proper “song” on the album, right after an opening intro which is a super intimate, and honestly, heavy conversation that I had with my mom. So it really enters as a salve for this brutal kind of cathartic moment where we’re both crying together, she’s apologizing, we’re both emotionally nude. The chords ring out right after our conversation fades away, and the door closes (to my apartment) — I wanted the listener to get to join me in my space, and then give them “ma”: a soothing push into this dream world where they can feel something.

I hope the gentleness of it can bring listeners a feeling of calm, the warmth of being held, and I think in the second half where I sort of admit, like a mantra “I’m not ready, to grieve”, maybe people might shed some guilt. Sometimes we’re not ready yet to feel shit. From the end of this song, it really shifts tone into the way that love and trauma are intertwined, and the balancing act they take on with each other.

As you prepare for that next chapter of your career as a musician, what are some of the overarching themes or ideas that you feel compelled to convey? 

Tarune: I think as an artist I’m finding I’m really obsessed with embracing whatever imperfections come about through the process. I used to want to find the “perfect” way to record or to make things, but I’m really excited now to do stuff like embrace the ambient noise in the different environments I end up in, or record only in full live takes with no comping (editing). I feel like with AI and all these digital tools, it’s becoming hard to know what’s human anymore…

I think that motivates me to get more and more intimate with my processes. I like transporting the listener into different spaces. I imagine my songs like little immersive sound movies. Sound as a medium, instead of video for example, leaves all the visuals up to the listener’s imagination, which is such a cool thing. I hope my music can always do what it does for me: it calms my soul, it helps me feel, transporting me somewhere else, which, paradoxically, often allows me to be more present somehow. 

Music has always been a vital part of your life, whether through spirituality in a church choir – or eventually making the effort to teach yourself production techniques. How has your extensive, hands-on journey with music shaped your approach to your craft?

Tarune: God, it’s still something I’m trying to parse out myself. I was always recording demos on whatever recorder I had. Reversing things to see what they sounded like and layering weird harmonies late at night in my room. My dad used to tell me if I wanted to play video games I had to record a song. It was a weird kind of discipline, but it got the muscle memory started. My musical training wasn’t typical — though I studied some classical guitar. I’d sung in a church choir and had a couple of bad teen rock “bands”. I sang in school talent shows and learned every song I could to record to post on YouTube. I learned to beat-box during impromptu school rap cyphers and sang for hours in these meditation chants every weekend with my dad. And around all that I’d had this obsession with computers. So I guess I was like one of the first internet DIY kids. So I taught myself to record tracks on GarageBand, edit photos in Photoshop, made my own websites, shot and edited tons of “music videos” with my friends, and even got into coding and 3D animation on my own.

I was lucky I had this endless need for stimulation that led me to dabble with all kinds of digital creative processes. I’d always dreamed of producing my first project top to bottom myself, which I got to do for this project. It’d become a goal of mine ever since I fell in love with James Blake’s early self-produced work, and the likes of my favorite pioneering singer-songwriters Bon Iver, Frank Ocean. I’m interested in the kind of self-discovery that comes from creating an imperfect solo work, and really interested in how the imperfectness can help create intimacy. And how the battle with the self can help create the most unique possible thing. But I’m also really eager to start a band after all this, too. It’s lonely and tiring too. 

In your exploration of self-production and the intricacies of creating music, what has been the most fulfilling moment to date?

Tarune: There’s often a moment where, in the production process, something clicks and makes me cry, or laugh. Like some weird idea lands and it just sounds so right, somehow. I had recorded “ma” and was building out the second half, which expands into this other space after essentially being just guitar and vocal. Right after a beat of silence, where my voice echoes out “Why?”, I dropped in this white noise, and automated it so that it sounded almost like waves of water. I remember that simple addition made me cry.

The second half of the song became like this “opening up”, and it felt like water was pouring out of it. And I added this little flute that echoed out in the background, which makes me think of my childhood, reflecting on innocence. It was powerful for me. I’m not sure it’s the most fulfilling moment ever?… but it really moved me. In moments like that my anxieties about how I’m not “done” finally dissipate and I can just feel the beauty of what the music is doing for me. 

You’ve been in the acting world for quite some time with roles in Sharper, Iron Fist and Scream, but you’ve also shared that you’re naturally drawn to the freedom of expression that comes with music. How has your acting experience influenced your music-making process, particularly in conveying feelings and narratives through your songs?

Tarune: Yeah its been a real push and pull. I think for a long time I didn’t call myself a musician because I really was pursuing acting as my main goal and career. But acting is all about surrendering to these words of someone else, and, at its best, embodying this version of your true self and telling an amazing story. But at its worst, it’s this rat race of trying to get the approval of others and feeling like an imposter. I think music on the other hand, especially since I produce and write everything on my own, is a really evocative and personal, expressive thing. I connect with it so much because it really is a 180º from the world of trying to fit into other’s projects — it’s just up to me to make it happen, and I get to really pull from all my messy insides to create whatever “it” is. That’s a whole other beast, but if you’re in search of personal expression, this is definitely a more direct path. It’s super hard, but these days you really can make music top to bottom on your own, with basically no budget. And then distribute it!

I think this feeling must be similar for anyone who is a writer. I don’t want to hate on acting though, I think it’s brought an awesome kind of vulnerability to my music, and given me a unique chance to share my emotions publicly and connect with people as well. Being a singer-songwriter really has this unique mixture of baring your soul on stage, and like, you need to enjoy that part for it to work I think. That part of being a musician really speaks to the kid in me that just wants to be “seen”. And there’s nothing like that feeling of being seen for who you really are, not for who you might be pretending to be. 

You have several creative people who have contributed to your music, like Justice Smith, or Jake Aron. When it comes to working with someone in the music space – what do you typically look for in a collaborator? 

Tarune: I’ve always made music on my own for “Tarune”, but I was having lunch with my friend Sarah Kinsley, who’s an absolutely awesome artist friend of mine… She produces her own stuff too and was just like “Dude, it’s nice to have someone mix it instead of you.” Which was a real lifeline, since the mixing process always takes me the longest. So she generously introduced me to Jake Aron, and he loved “ma”, so I figured, yeah, maybe I don’t have to do it all alone. What a lie! There are people out there that can really take this home better than I can. Duh. 

With collaborating, I appreciate people who are experimenters, and who are flexible in their thinking on “how to do something”. That, and I appreciate people who hear the world and feel the world differently than I do since it balances me out and helps me make new choices. Justice is a good ol’ buddy of mine who writes amazing music who I actually produced an EP for this year. With him we just have so much fun pushing each other and playing together and he’s an actor as well so we kind of both look at music as this like exciting, terrifying fun medium to break new ground on, and like to look at production from a storytelling perspective, almost like a film, which is something I always try to do. I love the idea of pushing myself to be more vulnerable, even if it turns out a bit weird. And I like producing for artists who are super interested in sharing the deepest parts of themselves. 

At this point in your career, through the highs and lows of finding your voice, what’s the biggest lesson you’ve learned along the way? 

Tarune: I think the more I create things of my own, the more I realize that literally anyone (myself included) who says there’s a “right” way to do something or a trick that’ll make your work better, is throwing you off course. I’ve found that some of my favorite music I’ve made, and listened to, it was often made with crappy gear, or recorded in a less-than-ideal space. Ironically, my most popular song on Spotify is one I recorded when I had no idea what I was doing on Logic Pro, with an $80 USB microphone in my bedroom… No marketing, team, plan, or anything. And I still get messages from people like “What techniques did you use to record..” “What microphone..” “Mixing techniques..” etc.

I even go back to that song sometimes and try to figure out what magic I captured, but it’s not a replicable thing. Back then, my pure amateurism actually guided me to really just listen and experiment. The lack of experience forced me to do weird things. So that’s just a reminder that if you’ve got taste, and you like what you make, then there’s a good chance other people will enjoy it too. I’d rather chase a feeling of “not knowing what the hell I’m doing” as opposed to chasing “I finally figured it all out”. At least that way, the creative spirit stays pure. And just have trust in that. I think that’s the unique power of being young. The boldness to innovate from truly not knowing what you’re doing. And that’s why I wanted to make this album on my own. I don’t really know what I’m doing. And diving into that is this important life exercise in learning who I really am.