My parents encouraged me ever since I was young. My dad had a band that sang charieng, which is kind of like molam in Khmer language. Unfortunately I didn’t have a chance to learn it as I was pushed to sing Thai lukthung, which was more modish. When I was 13, I quit school and started on tour with a local band, going to countless singing contests with the dream that one day I would sign up with a label and become a professional singer.

I never won any contests. I moved in and out of the music industry for years. I knew it was because of my looks, as I don’t have white skin or a pretty face. I was so insecure. I had to take many jobs to make a living, hairdressing, working as a handyman at a market. At one music audition I met someone who exposed me to the reality of the lukthung industry. He told me that most female singers need to be the mistress of someone powerful in the industry. I was totally shocked. I told myself that I would never trade sex to be a singer, and that if I didn’t make it this time then I would stop. At 21, I turned my back on music for six years, and went to school to study art. Though I didn’t sing any more, it helped release my creativity.

I didn’t have money to pay my tuition fee at university as I broke up with my boyfriend who was helping financially. One of my friends suggested I sing at bars and restaurants in Chiang Mai. This time I was singing international pop songs, which allowed me to meet other international musicians including The Limousine—a band who took me on tour to France with them. It really opened my world and allowed me to see that my molam roots are cool. I also got to hear African music and learn about the familiarities between it and molam. That ignited my passion to create an album. Luckily I then met Kong, who helped compose songs while I wrote lyrics in both the Isaan dialect and Khmer language. We finally released our EP last year.

We’re working on it. Now I want to concentrate on making music with a social message, especially regarding education. I feel like our society doesn’t care about education, especially in rural areas. It gets passed through generations that kids don’t need to go to school and should rather work to send money back home. This is my personal experience and I feel it’s not right. Me and my sister had to run and hide in the bush whenever a school bus passed us. We didn’t want to be spotted by our other friends who had the chance to go to school. I want to make music that encourages people to care about education. I also wrote this song in the Nang Bak Tue molam style too. It’s like Southern nang talung [slowed-down rhythm] but sung fast like a molam rap. So fun!

I want to continue experimenting with music. I’m thinking about studying music more but I’m also afraid that if I stick to the rules it will limit my creativity. If I have the chance, I want to go back to Isaan and find those who still sing charieng and learn from them. If you want to make good music, you need to go right back to its roots.