The Emergence of a New Pop Voice
The FADER’s longstanding GEN F series profiles the emerging artists you need to know right now.
“I’m not, like, dark and mysterious,” Tiffany Day says with a laugh as she tucks a strand of bleached hair behind her ear. The Wichita-raised, Los Angeles-based pop star is sitting on the floor of her boyfriend’s bedroom, bathed in sunlight. Despite the anxiety-ridden, strobe-lit pop music she’s been releasing, she’s hardly a vision of angst in our conversation. She tells stories with hand-waving enthusiasm and sits all the way up when she reaches a point.
In the past six months, Day has quickly transformed into underground pop’s ubiquitous new star. Clips of her performing have become embedded into the algorithm and view counts are rising — as is the discourse. Online, some commentators compare her to another Gen Z pop star: 2hollis, who also writes heartfelt pop songs in a language of 808s, side-chained synths, and vocal distortion.
“I love Hollis’s music,” she says. “[But] for people to call me a ‘trend hopper’ is pretty unfair. I grew up listening to EDM and attending raves. I was yearning for a way to bring that world to the pop realm of Tiffany Day. Hollis is definitely someone who helped me realize it’s all possible, but I’d like to think I’m making a lane for myself.”
Besides the tinge of misogyny in that comparison, it also minimizes the extent to which Day’s music is finding an audience because of her own skill. She is uniquely able to articulate the ache and euphoria of coming into adulthood, and she’s remarkably adept at crafting brain-tingling melodies. All of that is on display in her new album HALO (released April 3 via Broke Records), the beginning of what is clearly a mainstream breakthrough.
From Viral Covers to Artistic Autonomy
Day is not new to online attention. She first went viral in 2017 when she was still in high school, after a video of her singing “Hallelujah” into a reverb-ey well in Spoleto, Italy, took off on YouTube. In the next half-decade, she forged a music career that hit upon Gen Z’s cultural touchpoints: acoustic guitar covers, a move to Los Angeles, and a series of EPs that explored bedroom R&B soundscapes.
Hollis is definitely someone who helped me realize it’s all possible, but I’d like to think I’m making a lane for myself.
In 2024, after graduating college, she self-released an album, LOVER TOFU FRUIT. Despite a devoted fan base, the grind of independent artistry weighed heavily on her. “Every day I thought about if I had chosen a different life, if I had worked a 9-to-5 with a steady routine and paycheck,” she remembers. Her “last straw” occurred on a San Francisco beach in 2025, where she admitted to a friend that music no longer brought her joy. She struck a deal with her managers: her next album would be her last, and she would go all-in for a final send-off.
The Birth of HALO
Briefly giving up ended up marking a new beginning. Day decided to embrace the electronic dance music of her youth and the post-Crystal Castles pop sound. “I was journaling about it for months,” she says. “I always wanted to belong to a niche and [electronic music] felt like it was calling to me, but it terrified me what [fans and musicians in this genre] would think of me and my music.”
Anxiety morphed into drive as she took the reins on her production. Working alongside producers Jeff Melvin, Niles Forester, and Jack Hallenbeck, she moved from explaining her ideas to executing them. “It was a continuous journey of feeling like I didn’t have the skills to [produce],” she says. “One day, I was just like, ‘I don’t need to keep telling myself that narrative.’ I just sent it.”
I always wanted to belong to a niche and [electronic music] felt like it was calling to me, but it terrified me what they would think of me and my music.
The resulting sound on HALO is defined by clear pop logic, blending the adolescent angst of an Olivia Rodrigo ballad with the high-energy sonics of EDM. Tracks like “SAME LA” and “START OVER” showcase this evolution. Her aesthetic, too, has shifted—a mix of skater-princess sensibilities that feels authentic to her personality. “I just didn’t want to lose myself when I moved into this [darker electronic] niche,” Day says. “I’m naturally a happy, fun person. Performing with my plushie backpack felt so real and so genuinely me. Your artist project should be who you are, times 30.”
Day’s journey to HALO proves that vulnerability, when paired with technical growth, creates a powerful connection. As she stands on the cusp of stardom, she remains grounded. When asked how she is handling the sudden surge in attention, she is characteristically honest: “I’m overwhelmed as fuck. But I’m grateful.”
