For Chace Zhu, walking into the arcade on the hidden streets of Shanghai was a different dimension of neon lights, dusty screens, and the past humming faintly through electronic speakers. The surreal and transitional space is at the heart of the musician’s latest EP, Anti People Pleaser Part One. More than just a collection of 80s-inspired tracks, this project serves as a space for nostalgia, self-reflection, and reinvention.
Beyond the music, Zhu took a hands-on approach to the EP’s visuals. Scouting locations across Shanghai that would emphasize the idea of change and transition, he and his team searched for a representation of the famous game, Backrooms. “When you look at the videos we shot in the arcade, it’s just the three musicians, but it's a pretty big space with all the machines and content. So it gives you a certain feeling of emptiness, right?”
“I was really inspired by the feeling of the haunting, dark vibes from the liminal aspect of things,” Zhu shared. “You know when you’re in space, you feel a certain… I want to say loneliness, but knowing that this place was populated by people back in the days—that does something to your brain.”
Having been immersed in music from an early age thanks to his father, a former musician in 90s cover bands, Zhu’s passion for music runs deep. “The music they were doing and the music they were listening to, and what was basically, in their minds, ‘popular,’ is 90s Cantonese pop music,” he said. “And 90s Cantonese pop music comes from 90s Japanese pop and that comes from 80s American sound.”
Zhu’s music pays homage to the music that shaped him from a young age. “I’m a huge fan of Michael Jackson and Quincy Jones,” he said. “Doing this album in an 80s style is basically my nod to the work they’ve left behind…it’s personal, it’s influential, and also it’s challenging.” The challenge in this case came from translating that era into something contemporary without losing the 80s soul.
One of the most compelling songs in the EP is “Do Not Go Gentle Into Goodbye,” which Zhu wrote in under 20 minutes after a creative spark suddenly hit. “It’s one of those where, when something clicks, you can't write it fast enough,” he said. The track was inspired by Dylan Thomas’ poem “Do not go gentle into that good night,” which Zhu first encountered through the film Interstellar. Rather than simply quoting the poem or lifting its mood, Zhu reinterpreted it.
Inspired by the poem’s message to fight against the dying of the light, Zhu repurposed that resistance into a meditation on personal evolution: “It’s a song that encourages the audience to acknowledge the fact that we are all built by the memories and the past experiences we’ve had, and that’s okay,” the artist explained. “But make sure to not latch on to memories, because you do want to keep renewing yourself.”
The title shift from “that good night” to “goodbye” strives for emotional closure and growing out of older versions of oneself. Zhu wasn’t borrowing the poem’s words as much as he was absorbing its message—to move forward bravely, even when the past tries to hold you. Much like Interstellar, which juxtaposes intimate relationship ties with the test of time and space, Zhu’s song lives in that tension between letting go and holding on.
Not every song came as easily. “‘Tunnel Vision’ is the fourth edition of the song,” he admitted with a laugh. “It first started as a dance piece and then turned into a song-song.” It explores the isolation of being caught in cycles of toxic relationships, and the sonic layering, synths echoing like voices in a hallway, mimics that tunnel of emotional claustrophobia.
“Fight Club” posed a different challenge. “I basically finished the whole track’s production and I still hadn’t written any lyrics yet, " he recalled. The process took days, reflecting on the emotional weight of the song. It’s about waking up to one’s own numbness, and the pounding beat reflects a heartbeat trying to reassert itself.
“Humdrum” takes aim at modern city life that pressures people to move without pause, pushing back against that speed with moments of slowed tempo and minimalist composition, asking listeners to feel again, to stop and notice. In “Keep Me Warm,” the warmth also comes in the form of muted vocals that give the song a quiet intimacy. It’s not about some grand love but rather small moments that keep someone going on a daily basis.
Anti People Pleaser signaled a shift in Zhu’s creative philosophy—to push back against the need for external validation. In a time when artists often feel pressured to conform or appease, Anti People Pleaser is not just a title but a call to shut out the noise. “This album is about working on yourself,” he said. “Being aware, being intentional, and hopefully, helping others do the same.”
Beyond that, perhaps the most powerful thing about the album is not just its message but the sensory impact it leaves. With notes that stretch like breaths held on a bit too long and reverbs that settle like dust in an abandoned room, it’s not a nostalgia for the sake of style. Chace Zhu isn’t just revisiting his own past; he’s confronting it to reshape it into something brave. Something warmer.
