Start Listening To: Nantas

The London-based singer-songwriter on finding purpose through loneliness, myth, and the courage it takes to create.

For Italian-born, London-based artist Nantas, music is both a mirror and a stage, a place where vulnerability meets theatricality. Drawing on nostalgia for the early 2000s and the sweeping drama of classical mythology, his songs transform personal pain into something cinematic. His latest single, ‘Bring Out Your Clouds,’ emerges from solitude and struggle, yet carries a quiet defiance, a belief that art still matters in a world increasingly too fast and too cynical to notice.

For those unfamiliar with your music, can you tell us who you are, where you’re from and about the music you make?

Sure! I’m Nantas, an indie singer-songwriter from the Sorrento coast, Italy, now based in London. I grew up eating bread and Madonna for breakfast and my music (at the moment) carries a lot of nostalgia from the time I fell in love with music, so whatever was playing on the radio around 2004 / 2005. I make music for people that like to enjoy sound as a theatrical experience.

How did the solitude of the pandemic influence your songwriting process for ‘Bring Out Your Clouds’?

As someone who has struggled with intrusive thoughts for much of my life, isolation only amplified that pain and made everything feel ten times heavier. This song, to me, is deeply tied to loneliness and isolation, a feeling that often accompanies obsessive thoughts and compulsions. I was at war with myself and I was longing for a sense of purpose, which definitely influenced the writing.

Can you share more about the inspiration behind the mandolin demo that sparked this track?

That whole idea was my friend Hamish’s, which is the most ironic thing about it. He’s always experimenting with new sounds and instruments (He’s the only person I know that knows how to play an accordion) and one day, I woke up to an email in my inbox titled “Meditation on Mandolin”; a rough recording he’d made of himself improvising. I was immediately hypnotised and the fact that he chose that instrument is wild cause that’s the official instrument of Naples.

We hadn’t worked together for a while, but his melodies have always had such a pull on me. As soon as I heard it, the first thing that came to mind was, “Babe, it’s been a while.” I had to press pause to making music so that I could protect my mental health, everything was just too much. But that recording; that specific, trembling sound, spoke to the depths of my soul. I still find it so ironic that a guy from Reading managed to reawaken my sense of purpose by randomly learning how to play a traditional Neapolitan instrument.

What aspects of your Neapolitan roots do you feel are most present in your music?

I am not sure if aspects of my Neapolitan heritage show in this specific project. Maybe I do write music differently from native english speakers because I grew up listening to songs without being able to understand the words, so that probably thought me the importance of interpretation and melody. Not sure tho, I do talk a lot of trash.

Could you describe the visual elements in the music video and how they reflect your artistic vision?

In this video, we wanted to explore the sense of alienation that comes with being an artist in London, the feeling of standing still while the city rushes past you. We wanted to capture the contrast between the relentless pace of urban life and the presence of an artist who seems to belong to another time. It’s an attempt to portray the struggle of feeling unseen and oppressed in a place that moves too fast to notice.

At its core, this piece is also a celebration. It is a statement that to be an artist is, in itself, an act of heroism. It takes courage to create in a world that increasingly turns its back on art, even more so as an immigrant artist in a country where recently only certain kinds of “skills” are considered worthy of belonging. I have often felt suffocated by that mindset, by a system so consumed by power and profit that it forgets what truly matters. Yet, art remains our closest connection to life itself. Without it, we lose something essential, something deeply human. This work is about perseverance. It is about holding on to a forgotten sense of romanticism, about refusing to surrender to cynicism, and continuing to believe in beauty.

How does the concept of Ovid’s Metamorphoses shape the broader themes in your upcoming project?

I’ve always felt a strong connection to mythology, ever since I was a child. After moving to London, I kept writing song after song, we they were lacking originality. As an Aquarius, if there’s one true thing about me (other than always opting for questionable haircuts) is that I never run out of ideas. I just hadn’t yet found a way to translate them into sound. So I asked myself: what truly sets me apart? What am I most passionate about?

That’s when I went back to the very first song I ever wrote, “Jupiter”. From there, I began writing about Callisto, one of its moons, and I knew I had found something special. But I wasn’t done yet. Once that song was finished, I started delving into the myths connected to the other moons of Jupiter. That led me to study Ovid’s Metamorphoses, and what amazed me most was discovering how much art has been inspired by it over the centuries.

What I find so fascinating about reinterpreting those stories is realising that human emotions haven’t really changed. People felt the same things over two thousand years ago as we do today. It’s an incredible feeling to connect with an artist who lived so long ago. It goes to show that good art never truly dies and it never ceases to speak. It’s also intriguing to see how the gods were depicted before Christianity reshaped so much of our cultural imagination.

In what ways do you see your music connecting with the urban landscape of London?

In the song, I talk about transforming the burning city into sound. That line takes me back to nights when I would ride the bus home, drunk and alone, passing through central London in the heart of the night, feeling scared and lost, yet in a way, alive. As I write this now, I’m looking out from my room at the buildings in Shoreditch. This urban landscape, with its sense of both freedom and lostness, has shaped who I am and, in many ways, my songwriting itself.

What role does collaboration play in your creative process, particularly with someone like Patrick Fitzroy?

Collaborating is probably my favourite part of the creative process. It creates a dialogue, which I believe is the essence of art. When working with someone as musically talented and culturally aware as Patrick, I always leave the studio feeling inspired. Before approaching a song, we have deep conversations about the meaning we’re trying to uncover. He’s pushed me to question my beliefs and challenged my ideas and that’s the number one quality I look for when deciding to work with someone. He also has such a sensitivity when it comes to sound and his way of perceiving music is almost poetic. The track wouldn’t have been half as good without the combination of both our experiences.

How do you balance the theatrical elements of your music with the more personal storytelling aspect?

I think being theatrical is part of who I am. Wearing a costume allows me to access a part of my personality, and it is through fictional characters that I let the viewer connect with the part of me that is actually the most truthful. I guess wearing a costume helps me set my personal fears aside and focus entirely on the purpose of art, which is to communicate.

Can you tell us about a specific moment in your early London days that significantly influenced your musical journey?

In the first couple of months after I moved, I used my first paycheck from working at H&M to buy myself a guitar. As poetic as it sounds, I never actually learned how to play it. But that decision led me to meeting my guitar teacher who, after hearing that my house was infested with rats, suggested I look for a room on Gumtree. Instead of taking his advice, I did what any other delusional twink would do and started looking for a band to join while making friends with the rats. That’s how I met Hamish (a guitarist, not a rodent) . Around that same time, I broke up with my ex. The combination of those three things definitely shaped the life I have now.

How do you hope your music will resonate with listeners who might feel alienated by urban life?

I quite simply hope they feel a little less alone. Quoting one of the most outstanding and profound masterpieces of modern cinematography: “We’re all in this together”.

How do you see the evolution of your sound compared to your earlier work, especially in terms of genre?

This is the first time I’m releasing something that truly feels like me. Each song I wrote that I was unsatisfied with was a step I needed to take to reach this point. In terms of genres, while there are many I’m looking forward to exploring, this time it wasn’t a conscious decision to make what seems to be considered electro-pop. I went to my first session with Tom in 2023, and we had a massive brainstorm focused purely on sounds and songs I liked. Anything from a synth I heard on a niche Italian TV channel to the most unexpected songs, pointing out, “I like this particular bass and this particular beat.” Then we blend those sounds with my way of writing, which usually involves describing rather theatrical stories, and suddenly we find musical journalists saying, “Oh, I love the nostalgic emo electro pop-rock vibe with elements of this and that.” I guess if there’s an evolution it lies in the fact that I have a better idea of what I like, I am better at describing what I want and I am more confident when it comes to song-writing.

What do you love right now?

Feeling like I’m serving my purpose.

What do you hate right now?

Violence.

Name an album you’re still listening to from when you were younger and why it’s still important to you?

There are so many, but one album I’ve been listening to again recently and was completely obsessed with as a teenager is Blackout by Britney. I genuinely think everyone should stop for a moment, take a deep breath, and thank the universe for being alive at the same time as Britney Spears.

The production and lyrics on that album still drive me absolutely NUTS. It is pure brilliance, a true “no skips” record. I also think Blackout is the one body of work where we get to see the real Britney, raw and unfiltered. I have always felt deeply for what she went through, and on that note, I’ll just say this: joking about 2007 Britney or ridiculing anyone’s mental health struggles was never funny, not then and not now. It’s actually quite lame.

The fact that she managed to turn so much pain and chaos into such powerful and iconic art makes me respect her even more.

When someone hears your music for the first time, what do you hope sticks with them?

Well I really gave it my all so that I could put out something of quality that felt authentic. When I write and perform I try my best so that I can not just create a good song but encapsulate an emotion, frame a moment of my life that shaped me and I want to immortalise. But I guess I just hope that whoever listens to my music feels heard. Isn’t connection all we’re all looking for at the end of the day?