What happens when you realize music is your non-negotiable? For Liz of Revenge Wife, it took a psychedelic journey, a failed record deal, and years of DIY hustle to figure it out. Here’s her brutally honest story about independence, going viral, and why your phone addiction might be killing your creativity.
What You’ll Learn 🎵
- How a major label deal can both make and break your confidence
- Why going viral doesn’t automatically translate to career success
- The real cost of doing everything yourself (spoiler: it’s exhausting)
- How to bounce back when the linear growth stops
- Why social media changed from community to algorithm—and what that means for you
- The surprising power of staying true to your creative vision
When the Universe Tells You to Keep Making Music
Picture this: You’re at a crossroads. Music doesn’t pay the bills. Directing does. You’re stuck in a label limbo where you can’t release anything. So you do what any reasonable person would do—you take Ayahuasca.
For Liz, the artist behind Revenge Wife, that psychedelic experience in 2017 became a turning point. While everyone else was processing breakups and life trauma, she had a different revelation: music was non-negotiable.
« I was at like a crossroads where I was directing so much and directing pays money, unlike music, » she explains. « I realized just how important music is to me and I need to keep doing music. And everyone was just like, ‘this girl, that’s your takeaway from Ayahuasca?' »
But here’s the thing—sometimes the most profound realizations are the simplest ones. The next day, she bought a piano off Craigslist, put it next to her bed, and taught herself to write songs alone for the first time.
That piano became the birthplace of a new creative era. 🎹
The Holy Child Years: When Success Comes Fast (And Then Doesn’t)
Before Revenge Wife, there was Holy Child—the project that gave Liz her first taste of music industry success. And when I say success came fast, I mean fast.
In 2013, Holy Child hit #1 on Hype Machine (remember the blog era?). Suddenly, every major label wanted them. They played Rockwood Music Hall to a room packed with industry executives.
« I remember being on stage looking out at all these men who just were clearly music industry people and being like, you guys, I felt so sly about it and like in control, » she recalls.
They signed with Glassnote, got representation from WME, and spoke to about 50 managers—including people who worked with Kings of Leon and Maroon 5. Their 2015 album « The Shape of Brat Pop to Come » did really well.
Then came 2016. 💔
When the Label Loses Confidence
Holy Child released a collaboration EP without a big budget. It didn’t perform as well as their previous album. The label’s confidence evaporated almost overnight.
« They were like, ‘yeah, we don’t know about you guys anymore.’ So then they were like, you need to keep writing. And they kept us in this writing place for another year and a half. »
Let that sink in. A year and a half of writing hundreds of songs with no ability to release them. A year and a half of being shuffled between different A&R reps. A year and a half of creative limbo.
This is the part of the music industry nobody talks about enough. The waiting. The gatekeeping. The psychological toll of creating without releasing.
« It felt stifling, » Liz says simply.
The Birth of Revenge Wife: Taking Back Control
Out of that frustration, Revenge Wife was born. But this time, things would be different.
Liz tried reaching out to labels. Nobody responded. She had management for a couple years, then decided to go fully independent. Her current team? Her distribution company (Symphonic), her sync agent (Terrorbird), and occasionally her attorney when he’s not busy managing Paramore.
That’s it.
She directs all her own music videos—over 60 of them now, including a 15-part sequential story for Revenge Wife that’s been filming since 2021. Think of it as her version of « Boyhood, » except with aliens and horror elements.
« Art that takes that long is my kink, » she jokes. 🎬
The Reality of DIY: It’s Not Always Glamorous
Here’s what Liz wants you to know about going independent: it’s a lot.
She writes the music. Produces it (she’s learning production now). Directs the videos. Manages her social media. Books shows. Handles business emails. All of it.
« I’m like a no-brainer. I should have management and agents, » she says. « I went viral for my live show. I’m like, why don’t I have an agent? I don’t understand what the climate is right now. »
The challenge? Finding the right people who truly see her vision. She’s not interested in someone who just tells her to « post more on TikTok. » She needs someone who thinks outside the box, who can connect her directing skills with brand opportunities, who gets what she’s building.
Her advice if you’re looking for team members? Ask for a six-month proposal. Make them show you exactly what they’d do, who they’d bring in, what opportunities they’d pursue.
And weigh experience against enthusiasm. « Ideally, you have both, » she notes. But she’d give an inexperienced person a chance if they’re genuinely excited about the project.
Going Viral: When 24 Million Views Don’t Solve Everything
Let’s talk about the elephant in the room: Liz went massively viral this year. We’re talking 23-24 million views on one video, 45 million on another clip from the same show, millions more on TikTok.
The video? Nine seconds of her dancing on stage. She’s wearing a short skirt (with dance tights underneath) and no bra. The skirt moves as she dances. That’s it.
The response? A mix of new fans and an avalanche of negative comments from people who… well, let’s just say they had opinions.
« I think a lot of people don’t have their goals fulfilled, » Liz observes. « So they’re like, ‘oh, I am supposed to be a musician, but I can’t do that because I’m a man in a basement who doesn’t do anything.' »
She gained 40,000 followers in two months. But here’s the twist: she’s not rushing to capitalize on it the way social media wants her to.
The Algorithm Changed Everything
Liz has a fascinating perspective on how social media evolved. In 2012, Instagram felt like a community forum—you’d post, people who searched for you would find your world, and you’d build something beautiful together.
« Now it’s being used to reach people that you don’t know, » she explains. « And I don’t really think that that helps. »
The old model: reach new people through shows, opening slots, label marketing campaigns. Social media was for your community.
The new model: social media is supposed to be your primary growth tool. But it’s algorithmic, not communal. It rewards viral moments over consistent artistry.
Going viral taught her something important: people are easily manipulated, and hype can be manufactured. That visceral reaction? She’s used to it. She’s always elicited strong responses throughout her career.
But she’s not playing the game of rushing content to feed the algorithm. She’s making her best album (more on that in a sec) and trusting that people who vibe with her will find it.
« I don’t have a rush, » she says. « I’m just trying to make my best album right now and then hopefully put it out to people who are down with it. » ✨
The Confidence Rollercoaster: Dealing With Setbacks
Here’s something Liz is refreshingly honest about: her confidence is all over the place now.
In the early Holy Child days, she had no expectations. Things grew linearly. It felt right. She wasn’t relying on music financially—she was waitressing, teaching, living in a $600/month room.
But after the linear growth stopped? After the label deal fell apart? The confidence became inconsistent.
« Sometimes I’m in and out, » she admits. « I have a song right now that’s doing really well. It’s gotten a million plays this month. So I’m like, okay, people listen to my music. And then things happen where you’re like, oh, that happens. »
She co-wrote « Xanax Damage » for Future—that felt amazing. She plays shows where people sing along—huge confidence boost. Then she does a gig that pays less than expected, and doubt creeps back in.
How She Bounces Back
So what do you do when a show sucks or something doesn’t work out?
Stick to the plan.
« Revenge Wife has been for me this thing that I lean on that just pulls me forward, » Liz explains. « When I don’t know what I’m doing with my life, at least I know that I’m trying to make an album and it’s being made. »
When business stuff gets overwhelming, she doesn’t try to fix it by sending more manager emails. She goes back to creating.
« I get all my confidence from making something, » she says. « There’s no better confidence than making a song and playing it for myself in my headphones immediately after. It’s like I fucking did that. And it speaks to me and it’s there for me. »
Even if it’s never released, you have that thing. 🎧
That’s the real power move—changing the subject by returning to creation, not by trying to fix the business side when you’re feeling low.
What’s Next: An Album About Aliens and Zodiac Signs
Liz is currently working on an album called « Alien, » where each song represents a different zodiac sign. She’s released Cancer and Aries so far and is producing the rest herself—her first time fully producing.
She’s also writing a book (a memoir-ish thing about her 15-year journey in music, with essays on being a woman and aging). She has all her journals from the past 15 years to draw from.
Oh, and she’s headlining her first festival—a nude festival where she’ll perform naked for possibly the first and last time. 😅
But beyond the specific projects, what’s next is really about continuing to build on her own terms.
No rushing because the algorithm says so. No compromising her vision because someone thinks she should sound more like someone else. No settling for team members who don’t genuinely see what she’s creating.
The Bottom Line: Your Phone Might Be Killing Your Art
I’m going to leave you with Liz’s parting advice, because it’s not what you’d expect:
« Try to do like a month disconnected from your phone and see how that feels. Take a break and see what you create and let yourself be bored and let yourself write in your journal more. »
In an industry that constantly tells you to post more, engage more, feed the algorithm more, this is radical advice.
But think about it: Liz’s breakthrough came after buying a Craigslist piano and teaching herself to write alone. Her confidence comes from making things, not from checking metrics. Her most connected performance moment (the one that went viral) happened when she was fully present, not thinking about content.
Creation requires space. Boredom breeds creativity. Your best work probably won’t come from doomscrolling.
Whether you’re just starting out or you’re years into your career, whether you’re signed or independent, whether you’ve gone viral or you’re still building—the fundamentals don’t change.
Make the music that matters to you. Stick to your plan when things get hard. Return to creation when confidence wavers. And maybe, just maybe, put your phone down and see what happens.
And when you’re ready to get that music out into the world? Don’t wait around for labels to respond (or not respond) like Liz experienced. Platforms like Groover let you connect directly with curators, radio stations, playlist makers, and labels—with guaranteed feedback on your submissions. Sometimes taking control means finding the right tools to bypass the traditional gatekeeping altogether.
Ready to get your music heard by industry professionals who actually listen? Submit your tracks on Groover and get guaranteed feedback from curators, radio stations, and labels. Build real connections without the waiting game. 🚀
