One of the most fascinating things about Singapop lies in the freedom built into its bones, and few artists embody that more compellingly than Charlie Lim.
As an alt-pop artist whose work transcends cultures and backgrounds, he’s become an undeniable example of why Singaporean pop – known to many with affection as Singapop – is growing in an undeniable manner.
In a world where definitions can both help us find freedom whilst also trapping us in a cage of roses, it is perhaps beautiful that the multicultural nature of Singapore, with its many different languages, traditions and influences, has given its musicians the perfect bedrock to explore what it means to be a truly modern artist in the industry.
Case in point: Charlie himself began learning piano as a child, finding his way through improvisation before gradually beginning to write songs of his own.
Moving to Australia at 14 gave him opportunities to study music, and that distance from home gave him a perspective on his identity that has made him the softly-spoken, thoughtful and introspective artist that he is today.
“When I’m searching for the path that someone already led / Looking up enough to see the sun rising / I got a reason to try”
– “I Got A Reason”
His newest album, DAYDREAM, is a comforting, cathartic, 23 minute journey through the psyche of someone yearning to figure out every facet of themselves, from their relationships to the demons that keep them up at night.
“I think just being in a constant state of growth is the best thing you can do for yourself than to seek affirmation or validation from awards or numbers,” he says, ruminating on a journey that has seen him start over, search for escape, battle with heartbreak, and all the many other tribulations that have made him such a tangibly human and relatable artist to his many fans.
His work is reflective of many of his Singapop peers as well: impossible to pigeonhole, constantly searching for the next frontier through which they can improve, willing to open their arms and artistry to the many different pathways the global music industry lays out before them. Gone are the days where there was only one approved route towards success or artistic credibility.
“Decentralisation equals to collaboration, especially in the music space,” Lim muses, “Because collaboration is when everyone is on the same level.”
His own inspirations – from Miles Davies to Joni Mitchell to Bob Dylan – would heartily approve, and certainly so in the face of one of the biggest questions confronting the music industry faces today: the looming figure of AI, and the talking heads who believe such manufactured work is sufficient for an audience who desperately craves the kind of sincerity and connection that artists like Lim are still creating.
Chatting to him about his creative processes is akin to taking a winding journey in itself, with different landmarks in his life passing outside the windows of a carriage trundling through the countryside until, remarkably, we arrive at DAYDREAM. Memories with aunties and friends, breakups and personal struggles all add up to the tapestry of the work he has put together, a testament to the beauty of the creative struggle.
“Writing’s definitely a cathartic process, although it can also become a negative feedback loop when you’re always hitting a wall and you’ve put a lot of pressure on yourself to produce something good because it’s your ‘job’ as a writer,” he adds.
That eclecticism feeds a creative process built more on instinct than formula. Lim often begins at a piano or guitar, improvising until he enters something close to a meditative state; although, he jokes, he hates meditation. Sometimes, melodies arrive with complete words tentatively attached, at others, they emerge as temporary gibberish, with meaning filled in later. When working alone begins to create a feedback loop, a computer-made beat or collaboration can provide the disruption he needs. There’s no singular route or set of circumstances that leads to a Charlie Lim song.
For example, his recent single “Nobody’s Home,” the third track off DAYDREAM, emerged during a particularly difficult period of his life while he was working with a friend in a cottage in Devon. Built around piano and orchestral dabbling, the song poured out with such directness that, once it was complete, Lim collapsed onto a sofa and cried. When his collaborator’s mother heard the track, she cried too.
“Sometimes it comes from an innate need to release something from a more subconscious place,” says Lim gently. “Sometimes it’s a muscle to flex because it’s fun to explore and just make stuff.”
It is perhaps an oh-so-softly powerful example of what makes Lim’s work – and that of many of his peers – so compelling. There is musical depth without emotional distance, universal connection without cultural erasure, and ambition without the need to overcontort onesself for an international audience.
“Regret’s a reminder to do the real work / So why does this pain feel so familiar?”
– “One Day I’ll Learn”
Thus, we return to the question of what it means to be a Singaporean artist today, if such a definition is even possible to pin down. How best to describe a musical community working in Mandarin, Tamil, Malay, English, or producers revelling in textures and samples from South East Asia alongside Anglopop, Latin influences, Afrobeats and much more?
Can we even sum it up as one genre, one that is both global and local? Or is it perhaps a whole generation of artists celebrating the identity of purely showing up as you are?
In classic Charlie Lim fashion, he doesn’t have one direct answer, and that’s perhaps as it should be: a recognition that the Singapop scene will be different tomorrow than it is today, just as it is markedly different to where it was a decade ago.
“It’s all about creating an ecosystem and creating a foundation for the next generation to do their own thing,” he considers. “We need to up the game – it’s really important that everybody levels up and helps one another.”
The gentle and intentional production in his work marries well with many an artist: a brief look at his discography reveals the vast swathe of artists he has collaborated with. Such versatility and adaptability never comes across as indecision or mindless whimsy. It feels closer to curiosity, the instinct of a musician who hears possibility everywhere. It’s a perfect calling card for an artist who has taken his daydreams and made them into something sonically beautiful.
For artists from lesser-known music scenes, international recognition can sometimes appear to require a Herculean effort: an expectation that they make themselves instantly legible, marketable, or representative of an entire nation or identity. Lim’s music arguably offers another possibility. He does not deny the experiences from whence his stories came, but neither does it carry the burden of explaining his identity, nor those of others. Instead, it is a clear, sincere voice reaching out to a growing, multilingual and increasingly colourful musical world.
“Music is essential for our culture and identity,” he says, ever-sagacious. “It should not be looked at as just entertainment alone.”
Singapop is undoubtedly one to watch, with Lim’s work standing proudly alongside his peers. For the exciting truth is perhaps that the freedom built into Singapop’s bones is not simply the freedom to move between languages, genres and cultures, but the freedom to resist becoming any one thing at all.
When it comes to Charlie Lim, we’re simply excited to discover where that artistic freedom might take him next.
Interested in even more Singapop? We chatted to several more artists in the Singapop scene… perhaps you’ll find your next favourite amongst them.
Kiyan Foroughi
What, to you, is great about the Singaporean music scene?
It’s small enough that you actually know most folks, but nascent enough that you can still shape it. In bigger scenes, you’re slotting into something that already exists. Here, the scene is still being written, so there’s real room to build something and leave a mark. There’s less ego, more collaboration, and a genuine hunger.
What was your unique journey into music?
Backwards, honestly. I spent years as a deep listener and a fan while being a tech entrepreneur who was convinced he wasn’t creative. That belief only cracked during COVID, when I made an EP with UK hip-hop legend Funky DL as a gift to my team. What followed was a flood of late nights in Logic Pro and the realization I’d been carrying a story the whole time. That became inner light. OUTER SPACE., my debut album which dropped earlier this year. And it felt surreal to win three Gold awards at the 2026 LIT Music Awards for it: Best Concept Album, Best Neo-Soul Album, and Best Trip-Hop Album.
Who is your favourite Singaporean artist right now?
Rachelle Ruby, of course! She’s absurdly versatile. You can hear it on the album: jazzy, poppy, neo-soul, trip-hop, R&B, she can live anywhere and still sound like herself. She’s the through line across all 10 tracks of the album, playing every shade of the protagonist, and she never once broke character or lost her voice in it. That range is rare.
What is one song would you recommend from your own catalogue?
“The Destination.” It features Substantial, Nujabes’ most frequent collaborator, delivering the album’s whole thesis: you were always the destination. Rachelle Ruby is floating cosmically around Substantial’s bars before settling in as the voice of the inner self that’s finally heard.
But if you’re a seasoned traveller, go straight to “Shadow of the Enchantress.” It’s an eight-minute trip-hop reckoning, the deepest cut on the record.
Our music writers’ recommendations:
Kiyan Foroughi creates Earth music: ambients spanning the universe, often featuring his carefully picked vocalists. Irresistible basslines, gorgeous layers of synths and electronic elements, and perfect flow are the characteristics of Foroughi’s masterful compositions.
Our Kiyan Foroughi recs for you to check out: “Beautiful Distraction”, “Seas of Space”, “The Destination”
Masia One
What, to you, is great about the Singaporean music scene?
Singapore is a crossroads, and our music reflects that. As a global hub, you get flavours from every corner of the world colliding in one small island, so you find real depth across genres, from Pop to Disco, Hip-hop to Reggae. What fascinates me most right now is the ska and ska-punk scene — it’s inspired by an international subculture but has been completely expressed through a Singaporean experience. Check out bands like Comic Strip, Geylang Ska Orchestra, Full Pledge Munkees, and Cesspit.
What was your unique journey into music?
I was born in Singapore, raised overseas, and went on to become the first female Asian face to hit the top 10 Hip-hop charts in Canada. Of course as a Singaporean daughter, I first completed my architecture degree from the University of Toronto: then I told my parents I was going to be a rapper post graduation.
Since then, the journey’s taken me into the studio with RZA (Wu-Tang Clan), John Frusciante, Pharrell Williams, The Game, and producer Che Pope (The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill); had my music placed in the theme song for Fast & Furious 8; and recorded around the world including Bob Marley’s Tuff Gong studio in Kingston, Jamaica. Some days I still can’t believe a kid from Singapore who fell in love with Hip-hop got to live this story.
My debut LP, Far East Empress, was built from Singapore outward: Hip-hop lyricism, Dancehall tempo, Hip-hop basslines, Pop top lines, with features spanning Tagalog to Malay. I’ve just wrapped a full-length Hip-hop album with Canadian producer CNFMUS called East Gate, which brings me back to my boom-bap roots.
Who is your favourite Singaporean artist right now?
Inch Chua has always amazed me with her ability to reinvent herself – shifting formats, stepping into theatre, constantly redrawing the boundaries of what she’s “supposed” to sound like – while staying completely true to her own voice is rare. Listen to her latest singles “Woolsuit” and “Marigold Magic”.
Singaporean record label that I’m always looking out for is Kribo Records: a label run out of a space above a beancurd shop on Geylang Road, headed by Haqim “Maggot” Isa, a producer and multi-instrumentalist working with a sound that makes Singaporean music great: raw ’60s/’70s soul, funk, surf and psych-rock fused with Afrobeat and regional Nusantara sounds: Thai Luk Thung, Molam, Getai, Arab disco. Their latest vinyl pressing “Sounds of Lecak”is beautiful, and currently sold out.
What is one song you’d recommend from your own catalogue to other listeners?
“Selah.” It carries my roots as a Hiphop emcee and shows my evolution into Reggae, Dub, and world music: but more than that, it’s a philosophy. “Selah” is my life philosophy: things will happen in this world that are out of our hands, but we can still know our own path, and transmute sorrow into love to call in something better for ourselves and our communities.
I’m currently recording a remix with features from great artists across Korea, China, Indonesia, Malaysia, Thailand, and Mongolia: and I’ll be performing this song onstage this August at Rototom Sunsplash in Benicàssim, Spain, the world’s largest Reggae festival. I’ll be performing alongside Indonesia’s Yella Sky Sound System for the Dub Academy while opening for Lady Leshurr on the Dancehall stage.
Our music writers’ recommendations:
Masia One brings a feeling of empowerment in her tracks, utilising her beautifully powerful voice to add her own touch to Hip Hop, showing off her diversity by intertwining it with other genres.
Our Masia One recs for you to check out: “Fabulous”, “Go Girl Go Get It”, “Return of the B-Girl”
Darius Oon
What, to you, is great about the Singaporean music scene?
To me, the best thing about the Singapore music scene is how strong the community is as a whole. The way that everyone comes together for gigs, whether it is Baybeats Festival or a small underground gig, is unmatched and something that I miss dearly being away from the scene.
What was your unique journey into music?
I grew up playing classical piano, while listening to The Beatles, Queen and 80s pop music that my parents would put on in the car. At some point in my teens, I decided that piano wasn’t that cool and started playing the guitar instead. From there, I started listening to all kinds of guitar music, eventually falling in love with the indie/shoegaze that is now my bread and butter. I started writing songs in my bedroom, and the rest is history!
Who is your favourite Singaporean artist right now?
My answer to this question is and always will be B-Quartet. Their album Tomorrow Is Our Permanent Address changed my life the first time I heard it. The songs on it are amazing sonically and the lyrics depict the duality of living in Singapore to a tee.
What is one song would you recommend from your own catalogue to other listeners?
I would recommend ‘Falling Behind’! It is the second single I’ve released under this solo project and it’s one of my favourite songs that I’ve written so far. It just came out as well!
Our music writers’ recommendations:
Darius Oon’s songs are the perfect example of feel good music, combining his calming vocals with a catchy melody and layers of instruments to create something that personifies the best parts of the genre.
Our Darius Oon recs for you to check out: “Sense”, “falling behind”
DAYDREAM but Charlie Lim is out now on all streaming platforms. Charlie Lim can be found on Instagram here.
Kiyan Foroughi can be found on all streaming platforms and on Instagram here. Masia One’s brand new single, “Neighbourhood” is out now. She can be found on Instagram here. Darius Oon can be found on all streaming platforms and on Instagram here.
Contributing writers: Maddie Armstrong, Sonal Lad