Sam Short Is The Gen-Z Pop Star

Sam Short is a musician with more than 350,000 followers on Tik Tok and 75 million views on her videos, largely original songs. With only two single records on major streaming services, she is still somehow pulling in over 340,000 monthly listeners on Spotify. She sat at the precipice of her career.

Sam and her friend Azil were in Yellowstone, camping on an oval overlook building from a hidden bank where they skinny dipped and drank Sangria in the afternoon. Azil had a gruff brunette beard and teeth crooked in the outward path of his smile. It was afternoon and Sam was drinking coffee with her feet in the cool water. Azhil held his knees in his elbows. They were talking about making music.

“It’s that fine line between trying to be grateful for what you have and wanting more at the same time when you get any taste of success,” said Sam.

“It’s not exactly like sports where that competitive mentality is going to produce technical and physical excellence,” said Azil. “In your world, it’s weirdly about resources and artistry or personality – both of which require a real genuine fake. You know what I’m saying.”

Sam didn’t. Most of the time, no one did. It was a sort of lovable like a baby’s babble.

“I had all these songs, and I was like – what is there to do with these? And, honestly, I hated Tik Tok. I was never on it. I wasn’t even a user. I didn’t have any interest,” said Sam. “I was writing for other people. I was writing for pitch. I was writing for me.”

“Tik Tok gets a heap of criticism,” said Azil.

“Tik Tok is weird. The criticism to the app is one thing, but we can’t deny there’s talent in droves there,” said Sam.

“There’s lots of undesirable things in droves there,” said Azil.

“I think it’s dangerous for people who don’t have a back catalog,” said Sam. “I think it’s dangerous for people who haven’t worked their muscles. I think it’s dangerous for people who don’t have anything to fall back on, not in terms of a career – I mean content or anything. I don’t think any artist’s career is an accident, but I do think that some songs can have accidental success.”

“Art is amputated from the artist,” said Azil. “It can’t be controlled any longer. Though, I’d wager it can bleed.”

“That’s a very reasonable thing. I was always kind of afraid of that,” said Sam. “I was like, if I post on Tik Tok, I don’t want to be a Tik Tok artist. I don’t want to be boxed in, and straight up I don’t want to be made fun of and sh**.”

“It’s got to be quiet out here, compared to LA,” said Azil, “all those record men at your door.”

“I felt like it happened exactly like everyone says it does. All the labels you want reach out. All the people you wanted to get the attention of reach out. You get it literally immediately,” said Sam. “And at first, you’re ecstatic; your dreams are finally coming true! What’s not disclosed in this process is: that doesn’t matter. Because ultimately, you’re not typically ready to be meeting or signing with these people.”

“When you come out of the gates with a successful song, people won’t expect anything less from here on out. So, it’s time to keep writing,” said Sam.

Azil gave an inquisitive look and put the 4-liter bottle of sangria to his lips. It was the second bottle they’d bought, and it was missing a liter and a half.

“The work has just begun, and now you’re in this pressure cooker. And you’re on the clock, and you better figure out how to get the song ready, how to shoot the cover, how to get the music video, where you’re going to drop it, how you’ll distribute it, how you’ll get playlisted, and then what you’re going to do next, what the project is next,” said Sam “And then there’s the project after that. And so, that’s where I am.”

“I got an idea for that CBS show Survivor. They should hide a bunch of little red rocks around the island and say three of them are worth a million dollars. Hunt,” said Azil. “That way more people can win some money.”

Sam said, “Survivor?”

“It’s all about authenticity,” said Azil.

“And you’d rather it also be about finding rocks?” said Sam.

“I don’t know, maybe. I guess not. I just wish more people could get their hands on CBS’s money,” said Azil. “If there were rocks, I guess that would mean more responsibilities is all.”

“Authenticity isn’t the easiest thing to find without your friends. I was talking to my manager, and I was talking to my team, and they were like, okay, well you’re a songwriter. And that settled the matter,” said Sam.

“They said, you’re not an artist. You don’t have any music out. So, the question is – do you want to release this song? Is this important to you? Are you just going to release this one as a little side hustle? Or if you do it – I mean you fully do it – you essentially have to do it with a bulletproof brand, and it’s not over,” said Sam. “And my dumb a** is like, yeah, I wanna do it. I’m like, I’m ready. I wasn’t ready.”

“You took a leap of faith,” said Azil.

“I definitely wanted to get started. I wanted to be ready, and maybe that’s enough or all there is or something else that’s unknowable and nice. After my first song went viral, I received massive editorial support. To which I was just like, what the f***? Everything was extremely confusing,” said Sam.

“I’m surprised. When it came to what I wanted to release next, I felt like my first song wasn’t necessarily an authentic display of who I was. It felt very much like a song I wrote as a pitch record that accidentally went viral that I released like that. It didn’t feel like there was artistry behind that,” said Sam. “I dove into figuring out what I wanted to say. And the song was a positive, empowerment song. I’m not positive nor empowered. I don’t know why the f*** this is my brand. I’m cynical — ha.”

“And yet strength pours out of your art,” said Azil.

“Clearly there’s something about me that’s trying to say so because I have a lot of songs about empowerment and female power and being a woman,” said Sam. “I had a moment of, clearly, this is what I’m trying to say. Maybe I just need to say it in a different way. And so, I spent the past few months shaping my music so it feels honest where I feel there’s a gap in the market.”

“There’s a Sam sized gap in the market,” said Azil. “Maybe the muses don’t take direction. Maybe they do.”

Sam pushed Azil and said ,“and the gap that I’m trying to fill is the iconic pop star. We don’t have the Katie Perry or the Christina Aguila or the Spears or the Gaga or these larger-than-life beings who have something to say and are punching it in in really provocative, crazy ways. Besides a few wonderful exceptions, no one’s doing that.”

“What’s the next meat dress?” Azil said.

“Pop stars back then, you saw them in whatever, People magazine, and then you saw them on TV. Artists are so tangible these days. Now we’re extremely accessible,” said Sam. “Trying to maintain any sort of mystique while also growing is virtually impossible. If you’re trying to grow as an artist right now, you better be on Tik Tok three times a day and on Instagram turning all those tricks. When you’re trying to build a brand that feels larger than life, that feels slightly unattainable. It feels impossible when Tik Tok is the vehicle for success today.”

“Label’s got your feet to the fire?” Azil asked.

“No, I’m not signed to a label right now. My team is really cool. They said, we don’t care about TikTok. We care more about your brand. We care more about what you’re trying to say,” said Sam.

“That’s good. They sound tuned into there’s a zillion ways you can make things better,” said Azil. “Sometimes if you don’t feel that way for long enough you can start telling yourself, everywhere I sit, I sit too long.”

“For the first time. I feel okay; I’m exactly where I need to be. And I know exactly what I’m trying to do,” said Sam. “I feel like I have something to say, and I will say it. I want to say it in a big way. I want to say it in an arena, preferably at Madison Square Garden on the big mic giving a voice to the voiceless and empowering women sexually and emotionally.”

Azil laying on the bank took the wine to his chin and what didn’t reach his mouth poured down his cheeks onto the sand and his neck and chest.

“Even if you’re not the Gen-Z Katy Perry, your trajectory and your present moment are so rich with promise, you’ll land somewhere fine as a dime and twice as silver,” said Azil. “There’s a zillion ways you can make things better.”