Few artists in today's oversaturated music landscape stand out as much as Parrish Smith. For years now, the prolific artist has pushed boundaries, shattered genres but more importantly has taken risks and refused to conform to industry norms. His unique brand of electro-punk fuses sounds and cultures while also providing a distinct commentary. His latest project is a new label and EP. Enter The Darkbeat is a statement and TECHNOSTARS is the first message. In a time of algorithm slavery and commercial bondage, this could not be more timely. To find out more we spoke with the artist about the project, the state of things and more.

The Brvtalist: So first things first. You're starting a new label, Enter The Darkbeat. Why now and what makes it different?

Parrish Smith: It has always been my dream to have my own platform that inhabits various disciplines as music, design, video and art—one not tied to others’ expectations or perceptions of how I should do my job. I carved out my own niche and struggled to navigate toward where I truly wanted to be. Coming literally from nothing and being able to travel the world on my own is something truly special. I know how hard it is to put your art out into the world. It requires deep, passionate devotion—almost a kind of worship—because your art is often so closely tied to emotion, and that can easily become a barrier.

I’ve had to navigate my way through many hardships—ones rooted in deep, layered issues that I’ve come to resent. That’s why I instinctively reject institutions that claim authority over your career—or worse, your life.

When I think about my family, who immigrated across two continents, I’m reminded just how personal this resistance is. It’s not just about art—it’s about ownership of your path. I need my own path to independence, autonomy, and freedom— arriving at a space where I could express myself on my own terms, in my own time, not tied to the trends as I am finding them too cyclical and self-destructive.

Another strong drive for me is to work with like-minded people—those who don’t have an outlet to express their voices. Many choose to remain faceless, and I believe that’s a choice we should respect and support. It allows the music to speak for itself. Unfortunately, the world still demands a face—real or not—for everything.

It is different because I think in terms of that art needs to come first from the people who have something to tell. A backstory as this or like I am carrying always has a visual outcome that feels authenthic, in its own way. It will become something that we really can feel again an not something that is tied to an agenda for success or fame but integrity to their art.

TB: The first release is called TECHNOSTARS - a gritty sci-fi punk and fearless independent EP and single. It's a satire of the industry and the struggle with staying true to yourself. Tell us a bit about the backgorund of creating this and why it's so important for you in this moment?

PS: It came from a deep urgency within me, sparked by how the world shifted in the aftermath of the power vacuum left by COVID. The industry changed—and with it, the pursuit of stardom became even more amplified. It made me question what it truly means to be an artist, or to become a star without the struggle. While struggle isn’t mandatory, the road itself shapes your character and integrity—it’s what builds real longevity.

But longevity and integrity are becoming harder to find in a culture that has normalized constantly putting on new costumes, changing identities to fit the moment. I think that’s a troubling outcome in a music culture that once held strong to its values. The message I want to share is this: you don’t have to sacrifice authenticity to stay relevant. Reinvention for the sake of marketability doesn’t mean you have to mold yourself to match what the numbers say.

There was a point during a two- to three-month tour in 2023 when I came home completely exhausted and realized I wasn’t really being myself out there. It was a version of me, playing along, stuck in a rhythm that drained me. It left me numb and disconnected from who I truly am. I’ve always been someone grounded in the moment, conscious of my actions, constantly seeking growth and new territory to explore. But somewhere along the way, I got partially consumed by the machine.

That realization hit me hard—and I knew I had to take back control. But first, I had to go through something like a personal regression. In order to move forward, I needed to look inward and let go of a few things, you know?

We have stories to tell and something to inspire others with. But somewhere along the way, I lost sight of that. That’s when I started asking myself what’s wrong with the industry—for people like me, and for others who think the same. What needs to change because I do not be the one who wants to make changes in such a way I cut away a piece of me such personal it ain't me anymore.

I wanted to give me the message that we should create what feels reel to you and that staying grounded is way more impactful and that success is defined by yourself and not by someone else's.

TB: You're also kickstarting a new party series. Tell us about the connection there and where you plan to do them and why.

PS: With Mila V, we created Burst City. It means a city within a city for the colours living out of space, bursting out of control. We find that the music scene in Amsterdam has been defragmented since COVID, and that the niches we find solace in were driven away by more commercial entities. I come more from underground EBM/Industrial/Wave, while Mila V comes from the Emo/Goth MySpace scene. Seeing how subcultures are being taken over aesthetically while being left out was hurting us. We felt a responsibility and mission to fill certain gaps for people without a place. We do not want the superficiality of image-driven subcultures—we really want to create substance and context within the event series, creating a world where everybody, anybody, can feel themselves and find beauty in darkness.

Our first event is at Garage Noord, which I think is my favourite club in the Netherlands right now. I’ve been with them literally since the day it opened. It is DIY all the way and represents the underground and a very diverse culture. We’re beginning by inviting local artists who’ve carved out their own spaces—people who’ve been showing up, creating, building, on their own terms. People who deserve the stage. We’re bringing them all together in one place, to create a gathering of true music lovers, dedicated creatives, and community-minded people.

The event will feature a range of local electronic live acts and DJs, blending goth, punk, EBM, and techno, with a headliner to tie it all together. And to strengthen the “city within a city” idea, we’ve planned a few special surprises throughout the night. Our first lineup drops May 10th. The next edition will take place at Melkweg on September 13th, with a stronger focus on live acts and bands. And if all goes well, we’re aiming for a third event toward the end of 2025.

TB: We talked a little before about you sort of withdrawing from the industry machine. What have been some positives from doing that? How about some negatives too - do you think it's harder for artists to operate/survive nowadays if they're not so plugged in 24/7?

PS: That I feel more free than ever. I constantly had to fight with the machine, justifying who I am—literally. Big promoters were afraid I’d play a punk set as a closing act at one of the biggest Dutch festivals—like, c’mon, I could actually but I like a good party.. There’s enough evidence of me playing Lowlands and Dekmantel doing what I do. Literally arming myself with an eclectic set, touching every genre you haven’t heard of, and turning it into a party.

I think many are intimidated by my confidence in being unpredictable. While I think that fear is justified from their perspective, I don’t see myself competing with anyone. The pressure of staying alive as a DJ pushes you to make concessions or big artistic choices that pull you away from your personal journey. I am a music researcher at heart and I find it unfortunate that everything has to be categorized and put into boxes. I find it very hard to see that pure selector dj’s are fading away due to this.

But my journey has never been about financial success—and it never will be. I want success through the acknowledgment of my art. So, I took a step back from shows to focus on my personal journey and to give more shape to all my abstract work, which naturally extends into visuals, design, and beyond. I don’t care about playing the game, because this holds so much personal value for me that I believe others will see it and connect with it. I also believe it comes with a sense of responsibility—and that, through this path, we can truly create meaningful change.

And it is harder to operate unplugged—but like Neo, once you do, you become the hero of your own story. It’s a journey of becoming yourself, and it starts with curiosity. Eventually, at some point something asks: Do you really want to be you? I said yes. I unplugged. I chose to start from scratch. Reinvention, ignoring the odds, and choosing fun over fear—that’s survival for me.

TB: What's your primary goal now when making music? Are you trying to make it marketable, please the algorithm or audiences or do you do more whatever you're feeling as an artist and forget the rest?

PS: When creating something, I’m really affected about how I feel and what I think at a certain moment. This will decide a lot of the outcome. I try tin pin that feeling down and build a concept around it. And I don’t want to rehash what I have done before. My last album light, cruel & vain was more aimed to an experimental sound, experimenting with guitars , my voice and modulating + processing sounds heavily. I think that album actually didn’t do it well. I felt it was more a sleeper album, which is actually crazy because I never had the intention to make my debut album a financial hit. It made me proud nonetheless because I made something through from the heart and very personal and Dekmantel was a very big support in this.

Now I have a lot of things to say, things I want to scream out, I havent done before. And I want to do it in such a way that it combines the energetics and agressiveness how I would play as a dj and how I made music back then in my attic. Youthfullness and a freedom that is untouched because you live so deep inside your own world but yet affected by things you want to express and feel. So when I am thinking about these things I am never thinking about it being marketable. I think the concept if substantial enough and with confidence it becomes marketable because it is tangible. I belief in this so I can carry it out. From this, physical visual representations arise and it becomes more conceptually strong that people might be interested in. I think design or something you want to market should come from a more religious thing, where the belief and construct is very strong. Even if it doesn’t please the algoritms or not, for me building a believable story is way more important than creating something more artifical and frictionless.

TB: With such increasing pressure on commercialization and being a megastar (or technostar), do you think it's possible to still make authentic and outsider art and still stay visible? And what are some things that keep you hopeful?

PS: I think it’s possible. We need friction against the frictionless, and I find it a highly inspiring time to be alive. Things grow so big, so fast, that they eventually eat themselves up. Being aware of that actually makes me hopeful—especially knowing that inspiration often comes from a dark place. And right now, the world is pretty dark and bleak. I just hope people can find their beauty in that darkness, because it is beautiful—and it is hopeful. Counterculture always thrives in times like these, and I don’t think we should underestimate people’s creativity in their quest to survive by making art.

I believe autonomous spaces should exist online—curated and moderated by people who actually care. I miss the time when people were on forums, like that old Nine Inch Nails forum, where whole niche subcultures could exist and grow. Now everything feels crammed into a few apps—it’s completely oversaturated.

If we could branch out and build more independent, autonomous spaces on the internet, I think people would become visible again—to those truly interested in what they have to offer.

TB: Touring and playing shows has also become increasingly more difficult as artists have to fit more and more into a well defined box. Bookers and promoters have become lazier but I think audiences have to be more open to supporting some "else" as well. Do you see a way in which we can get back to more risk taking and placing more importance on that?

PS: Risk-taking also lies in a place where someone feels comfortable, but now that comfort is found in a machine that sells, and it does so very well. There’s no way to compete with that in order to survive as a business. I think clubs were always meant to be spaces for discovery—whether it’s about your state of being or music that triggers your state. We need to be curious again; that’s always how we evolve.

Now, taking risks creates discomfort, and I don’t think that’s always a good choice. We need more people who are willing to break free from the defined box. How can you evolve outside of it? Without handles or whatever… it requires someone with strong creativity and intuition. But these days, it doesn’t feel like people are tapping into their creativity or following their intuition. We can’t let bookers and promoters decide what’s important. An artist will always have a moment when they realize the importance of their music—whether for themselves or for others—or they may not see the importance at all. But it’s not up to institutions to decide that.

I’ve also experienced on the dancefloor that some up-and-coming artists aren’t given the chance to be listened to. It’s not always the case, but I’ve noticed it happening more often post-COVID than pre-COVID. I’m also aware that lesser-known local artists aren’t deemed interesting because they have a smaller footprint. But the ones I know are wanting change, and they’re actually taking matters into their own hands. I think these people will bring back new energy and place more importance on creating a cultural shift that benefits underground artists.

TB: What's coming up next?

PS: It's getting hectic but being productive like this and seeing it come to fruition is very giving.

The new single Technostars is coming out tomorrow on April 8th and the videoclip will come out on the 29th of april. Then the first Burst City event will start on May 10. On May 13 the extended single of TECHNOSTARS will drop on all platforms and then actually the 2nd single The Perfect God will be lined up in June already.

Also some merch will be getting dropped constantly. I have an extended EP which I am writing now to launch after the summer. It is really all I can think of, because I am taking an exciting direction. I’ve done too many experimental productions and I feel it is time for filth and power that I can translate live on stage or as a DJ or into someones ears.

Pre-save TECHNOSTARS here: https://tr.ee/PRESAVETECHNOSTARS