Sym Fera Speak on Their Former Anonymity and New EP

In a music landscape filled with many bold personas, sym fera has opted for anonymity for a while, allowing their sound to take center stage without the weight of personal labels. Their latest EP, “Ghoulish Machine,” explores heavy themes while blending diverse influences, questioning accountability in a chaotic world.

Their tracks quickly gained popularity and were featured in major shows like Netflix’s Ozark and FOX’s The Resident and Prodigal Son, leaving fans curious about their identities. With cinematic music videos and shadowy performances, they drew comparisons to artists like Pink Floyd and Bon Iver.

The duo has finally revealed their identities, and we’ll explore what this shift means for their connection with fans and the vulnerability that comes with stepping into the spotlight.

One-half of this enigmatic duo, Nick Simmons is no stranger to the spotlight. Best known as a television personality from the reality show Gene Simmons Family Jewels, he navigated life under the watchful eye of one of music’s most iconic figures. Nick is also a freelance writer whose words have graced the pages of major publications like Huffington Post, VICE, and Esquire.

Meanwhile, Vinnie Ferra, the other half of the duo, complements Nick’s multifaceted talents, contributing to their unique sound that draws comparisons to legends like Pink Floyd and Bon Iver. Vinnie co-founded The Beehive and manages tours for Halsey, Lizzy McAlpine, Gracie Abrams, Madison Beer, and more. Join us for a laid-back conversation about their creative process and the deeper insights behind their music.

 

Let’s talk about the purpose of your anonymity. Why be anonymous in the first place?

Vinnie and I are both associated, through family, work, or both, with people who make pretty drastically different genres of music than we’re making now. We felt the weight of some of that expectation to kind of stay in the same genre lanes, and inconveniently, Vinnie and I didn’t want to just be in a regular rock band or a pop group. So we just took that off the table and tried to see if this thing could find its home naturally, out there in the world. And if it did turn out that people liked it or hated it or whatever, we wanted to know that the only reason they liked it (or hated it) was because of the music itself, not because of our associations or our personalities. Social media has made people obsessed with identity markers, and we really didn’t feel like playing that game on any level. And it felt really nice, honestly, to not play that game. We both kind of miss it, to be honest. There was purity there.

 

After years of anonymity, what emotions and thoughts accompany revealing your identity to the world? How do you think this will change your relationship with your audience?

It’s nice that more people get to see the stuff now, but like we said, we do miss it. Part of that is the insecure narcissism inherent in the act of showing creative work to the public – staying behind a wall is safe, and putting yourself out there is scary. Everyone who makes stuff is just saying, “See me, but don’t see me.” It’s something to just get over because it’s just a distraction. You cannot put yourself out there without putting yourself out there. Vulnerability and satisfaction go hand in hand.

What influences shaped the sound of your new EP, “Ghoulish Machine”?

So many, and we’re not shy about them. Vinnie’s on a serious Flyte and Julia Jacklin kick right now, and he’s a die-hard Bon Iver fan. I’m in my Chris Cornell solo albums, Ry X, the new Smile record, and this great newer act called Gabriels which I’ve recently become obsessed with.

 

What *Is* the Ghoulish Machine?

It’s a lyric in the song “eager teeth” on the EP. Incidentally, we also made an acoustic version of that song for the Noise for Now foundation. They released a compilation to benefit pro-abortion and reproductive health initiatives, and we actually like the acoustic version better, so definitely go check them out if you get a chance.

But the lyric is describing the world as a system of bad incentives. I’m fascinated by the concept that sometimes, when bad things happen on a massive scale, no actual villain is piloting the vehicle – it’s just a series of logical conclusions based on a system of bad incentives that all move us, together toward disaster, like grooves in the desert shepherding a flash flood or a badly designed freeway leading to a traffic jam. And really, what’s scarier – the thought of a disaster orchestrated by a single, evil group of people, or the thought of a disaster that nobody orchestrated, that was just an inevitable result of the conveyor belt that we’re all sitting on?

Not all bad things are the result of bad incentives; sometimes, there really is a villain in charge. But I think that’s the temptation with conspiracy theories – it’s actually more comforting to think that someone is in control, even if they’re evil, rather than nobody at all. Malevolence is sometimes preferable to chaos.

So the lyric is, “Look for God in his chair/ convince me he is there / who runs this ghoulish machine / made of needs and eager teeth?”

I wanted to describe what it feels like to look at all the overwhelming horror in the world and wonder who’s in charge, who’s to blame, and if maybe it’s nobody.

 

I don’t want to ask favorites, but is there a track -together or separately-that you are most proud of?

The last song we released, “Avert Your Gaze,” came together quickly, and I just loved making it with Vinnie. It felt like a flow state moment where we both knew exactly what we wanted out of it, and it felt right at the end. We’re editing a music video for that song now, and I’m excited to show it to everyone.

 

As a duo, how do you work out creative differences?

 

We both have veto authority. We know the other has the right to veto an entire song or idea if we want to, and the other has to listen. We try not to abuse it too much, but neither of us wants to force the other to put something out that we’re not 100% on board with, so it tends to work out. When one of us says “veto,” we just move on to another idea, come what may.

And as a Duo, who is the what of your dynamic?

 

We both do a little bit of everything, but generally speaking, Nick is in charge of melody and lyrics, and Vinnie is in charge of production. Obviously, there’s plenty of exceptions.

 

Your music has been featured prominently in shows like Ozark. How do you think visual storytelling influences the way people perceive your music?

I think it’s the place we feel most at home. When people tell us our songs sound like the score or soundtrack to something, we know we’re doing something right. I like music like that – Pink Floyd, Trent Reznor, and Atticus Ross – we do tend to listen to fairly orchestral stuff. So many of my favorite songs were discovered through Shazam-ing a good show, so I’m glad that the same is happening with us.

 

How has the mystery surrounding your identities contributed to your artistic persona? Do you think anonymity can enhance the listener’s experience of your music?

 

I don’t know if it enhances anything; we just thought of it more like, we don’t want to be distracting from the music. Whenever I hear someone say, “Oh, remember that guy from that thing, did you know he has a band?” that doesn’t necessarily make me want to hear that band. But when someone says, “Oh, I love that song; did you know that guy from that thing is in that band?” That’s more the vibe. Music first, meaningless identity trivia later, if ever.

 

What central themes are explored in your EP, and how do they reflect your personal experiences or societal issues you passionately feel about?

 

We write a lot – a lot – of lyrics about, for lack of a better phrase, the modern tech-dystopia we all live in. I don’t know why I can’t stop writing about that, but I think about it and encounter it a lot. It’s something I think about constantly and encounter almost daily. Only so many delivery robots can slam into my ankles on Santa Monica Boulevard. At the same time, I scroll past clips of a digital pop star—who doesn’t even exist but is somehow performing simultaneous concerts in five countries—before I start to feel like I’m living in Blade Runner. And like we said, Vin and I were already wholly burnt out by the social media machine. It consumed our lives like a slot machine addiction, but worse, because it’s distorting our ability to tell the truth from fiction—all with no one actually at the wheel of this crazy system. So, we write songs about it. At least that offers some catharsis. I don’t have any solutions—I’m just as lost as everyone else—but turning those thoughts into something creative feels like it might be worth something.

 

What can fans expect next from Sym fera after “Ghoulish Machine”? Are there any upcoming collaborations or projects you’re particularly excited about?

 

We’ve got a collaboration in the new year with at least two artists we really admire. One isn’t finished, so we can’t mention who that is yet, but the other is the DJ/alt-rock guru Grabbitz, who decided to remix and reimagine one of our songs. I was already a fan of his songs with Rezz before I met him, we just became buddies immediately, and he graciously offered to turn our song into something danceable. That should come out soon, but this is the first we’re mentioning it, so I guess you got the scoop.

 

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