Their new track “Someone Said My Name” isn’t a breakup anthem or a rage song. It’s about what happens when you choose not to play the role they gave you.
If you’ve ever felt like people were telling your story for you—twisting it, shrinking it, or turning you into something you’re not—@latestagecrush gets it.
Their latest song “Someone Said My Name” is about reclaiming your name when everyone else thinks they already know who you are. It’s told from the perspective of a woman miscast as the villain—and instead of fighting the rumors or justifying herself, she stands still. No explanations. No fire. Just presence.
We caught up with the duo to talk about where the song came from, how they work together, and what it means to create music that makes people feel.
What was the idea behind “Someone Said My Name”?
“Someone Said My Name” started with the idea of how people talk about you when you’re not there—how your name can carry all this weight or drama, even when you’ve stayed quiet. I was thinking about that tension between who you actually were in a situation and how people rewrite it to fit their own version. The lyrics play with that—sour coffee, a moth in the lampshade, little things that tilt when your name comes up. It’s about being painted as the danger, when really, you were just surviving the fallout.
When you start a new track, where do you begin—lyrics, melody, a vibe?
We almost always start with a line—Susan, who writes the lyrics, will bring something she’s been turning over in her head. It might be scribbled on a napkin or buried in a notes app, but there’s usually one phrase that carries a certain charge. From there, we start building the atmosphere around it—chords, rhythm, tone—until the feeling of the lyric matches the sound. We don’t work from a set formula. It’s more like following a thread and trusting where it leads.
If you had to sum up your music in three words, what would they be?
Wounded, wry, and intimate. We’re always circling heartbreak, but with a little side-eye and a sense that even the messiest moments deserve their own kind of poetry.
Who did you grow up listening to that still influences you today?
We grew up on a mix of storytelling and attitude—Fleetwood Mac, Johnny Cash, Joni Mitchell, early Dylan. The kind of artists who could gut you with one line but still make it sound beautiful. There’s something about that blend of vulnerability and edge that’s always stuck with us. Even when the sound shifts, we come back to that idea: say something true, and say it well.
The new song taps into this feeling of being misunderstood or miscast. Was there something specific that made you want to explore that?
Yeah, definitely. We’ve both had moments where people decided who we were without really knowing us—where you get cast as the villain or the story gets twisted in a way you don’t recognize. Someone Said My Name came out of that space. It wasn’t about setting the record straight so much as reclaiming the silence—writing from the perspective of someone who didn’t get to explain themselves, but still has something to say. It’s not angry, exactly—it’s more like: fine, tell your version, but I know mine too.
What do you hope people take away from this song?
We hope it makes people feel seen—especially anyone who’s been misunderstood or talked about in ways that didn’t reflect who they really were. The song doesn’t beg for sympathy, and it doesn’t try to clear anything up. It just holds space for that quiet power of knowing yourself, even when other people get it wrong. If it gives someone that kind of steadiness—or even just a moment of “yeah, same”—that’s enough.
How did the two of you link up and decide to make music together?
We met through mutual friends and quickly realized we shared the same obsession with lyrics—how a single line can hold a whole story. It started with trading ideas back and forth, little scraps of songs, voice notes, poems. There wasn’t a big plan to start a band, but the connection was immediate. The way we worked together just made sense, and before long we had something that felt too personal—and too honest—not to keep going.
What’s something you’ve learned about each other?
We’ve learned that we process the world really differently—but that’s what makes it work. Susan will obsess over a single word for hours, trying to pin down the exact emotional tone, while Becca can hear that word and immediately start shaping a whole soundscape around it. It’s taught us a lot about trust—knowing when to lead, when to step back, and how to meet in the middle for the sake of the song. Also, Becca needs coffee to function. Susan doesn’t drink it, which feels a little witchy, honestly.
If Latestagecrush had a mission or purpose, what would it be?
If we have a mission, it’s probably to write the kind of songs that make people feel less alone in their mess. We’re not trying to fix heartbreak or tie things up neatly. We’re more interested in sitting in the weird, in-between places—regret, longing, defiance, the things you think but don’t say out loud. If someone hears a lyric and thinks, oh, thank god, I thought it was just me—that’s the point.
What’s next? Anything we should be looking out for?
We’ve got more music on the way—songs that stretch a little further, get a little bolder. Some lean darker, some are unexpectedly tender, but they all stay true to that Late Stage Crush core: lyrical, sharp, and a little haunted. We’re also working on a few live sets that bring the stories behind the songs into the room. So yeah—more to come, and it’s only getting deeper from here.
What’s the bigger dream here—where do you want all this to go?
The dream is to keep making music that means something—to us and to the people listening. We’re not chasing fame or viral moments. We want the kind of longevity that comes from saying something real, over and over, in different ways. If ten years from now someone still plays one of our songs because it got them through something, that’s the version of success we care about. Everything else is extra.
How do you see your music fitting into what’s happening in the world right now?
Right now, everything feels so curated—online, in politics, even in relationships. There’s pressure to present this polished version of life, and not a lot of space for what’s raw or unresolved. That’s where we see our music fitting in. We write about the stuff people carry but don’t always say out loud—regret, second-guessing, quiet rage, the long tail of heartbreak. We’re not offering answers, just a place to feel it all without having to dress it up.
And last—what’s something you’ve learned recently that shifted the way you see things?
We’ve both been learning that clarity doesn’t always come with time—it comes with honesty. Sometimes the story you’ve been telling yourself for years just doesn’t hold up anymore, and letting go of that narrative is hard, but necessary. It’s shifted how we move through the world—less about control, more about paying attention to what’s actually true, even if it’s uncomfortable. And that’s started to show up in the music too—less polished, more raw, more willing to leave the edges intact.
Final Thoughts
Some artists scream to be heard. Latestagecrush leans into the silence.
Their music doesn’t ask for your attention—it earns it by being real, raw, and totally unafraid to sit in the in-between. “Someone Said My Name” isn’t about proving anything. It’s about showing up, standing still, and owning your story—even if the world keeps trying to rewrite it.
They’re not playing along. And that’s exactly why they’re worth listening to.
Go stream Someone Said My Name
Follow Latestagecrush: Instagram | Spotify
DISCOVR: Latestagecrush, New Release, Review, EDM Music
