Interview by Ananya Swaroop | Photographer: Eric Williams
Emerging hip-hop artist, producer, and songwriter Ashwin Gane is carving a unique path in the music industry by blending his Southeast Asian heritage with traditional hip-hop to create a distinctive sound. Gane talked to NYOTA about his EP Got It, his creative process, and what representation means to him.
You are a first-generation Indian-American artist. How has that shaped your identity and work?
The influence has been more indirect than direct—so no, I’m not out here making Bollywood-inspired tracks or leaning into cultural clichés. That’s just not my lane. But I respect the artists who do it authentically—my work just comes from a different place. Being Indian-American has deeply shaped how I see the world and how I move through it—especially as an artist. I’ve often found myself perceived as an outsider. Whether it’s the mainstream industry or even within the Indian-American community, I haven’t always fit the mold. There’s a certain pressure, a sense that someone like me isn’t supposed to be in this lane, and that’s definitely fueled my drive. I’ve had to develop thick skin, learn to block out assumptions, and trust my talent regardless of what others expect me to sound like or be. That perseverance—stepping outside what’s expected—has become a core part of my identity and what my music stands for.
But there are also incredible positives to it. Being raised in the West while being exposed to Eastern culture, values, and philosophy gave me a much broader lens. It helped me become more open creatively. I may not make traditional Indian music, but my ears are more open to global influences because I was already acclimated to the East. That cross-cultural experience made me curious—it made me willing to explore the unfamiliar. You can hear that in tracks like “Lately” and “Flip Dat,” where I subtly pull from Spanish influence. In the future, maybe I tap into feudal Japan, or something rooted in North African or Middle Eastern traditions. I’m not limited by one framework. I approach music like a world traveler—collecting textures, ideas, and moods from different cultures to build something unique. So yeah, being Indian-American has shaped me in a lot of ways—some difficult, some beautiful. It made me an outsider, but also made me open. It gave me grit, but also gave me range. And all of that shows up in my work.
What is your process when working on a song or album?
It really varies, but most of the time, I start with a mood I want to capture—or sometimes even a culture or genre I want to explore. From there, I compose the music and build the instrumental first. That soundscape sets the tone, and then I write the lyrics around it. The music always comes first for me—it informs the feeling, the rhythm, and the story. When it comes to albums, it depends on the type of project. If it’s vibe-based, like Got It, then I focus on creating a consistent atmosphere—smooth, stylish, something you can just ride out to.
Even then, I make sure there’s a cohesive aesthetic running through it. On the other hand, I’m also working on a concept album that’s more mythic and storytelling based. That one’s very character-driven and cinematic. In general, I always choose a direction—whether it’s a mood, a persona, or a full-on narrative—and I commit to it. So yeah, while there’s room for spontaneity, there’s definitely a lot more planning and intention behind the scenes than people might think. I build worlds, not just tracks.
Fashion and visuals play a big role in your artistry. How much participation do you have in video concepts, shoots, and other creative aspects of an album?
I try to maintain as much creative control as possible—because I’ve learned the hard way that when I don’t, the final product usually falls short. Early on, I experimented with being more hands-off in certain areas, just to see how things would go. But when you’re not in the weeds, the vision drifts—and the result rarely lives up to what it could’ve been. Now, I’m fully locked in. I’m involved in every step—writing music video treatments, producing the beats, vocal editing, mixing, hiring live musicians if needed, and A&R’ing my own projects.
I’ve always produced my own tracks and co-written nearly everything. These days, I’d say I do about 70% of the writing and bring in collaborators to sharpen things where needed. And moving forward, I plan to co-direct all my videos and write every treatment myself. The best work happens when I’m hands-on. Some of the material I’ve released in the past came from a time when I wasn’t as confident or experienced, and I let others take the lead more than I should have. But that era’s over. The majority of the work where I’ve had full creative control hasn’t even dropped yet—but I think the difference will be obvious when it does. My perspective is specific, and when I’m involved in every layer—from sound to visual to narrative—it shows. No one sees the full picture like I do, and I’ve fully embraced that role now.
When did music turn from your passion into your purpose?
Creativity has always been my passion—whether it’s music, film, or storytelling. It’s how I build worlds, how I escape, how I invite others into something bigger than themselves. But music became a purpose when I realized it wasn’t just about expression—it was about connection. Music is more than entertainment; it’s a form of communication. It can shift your mood, change your mindset, even change your life. That realization hit me hard. There were a few moments that solidified it. One was recognizing that music could serve as the vessel for a much larger vision—this mythic, cinematic world I’ve been building in my mind.
I’ve always wanted to be a filmmaker, and I still plan to be, but music allows people to feel that world from a first-person perspective. You don’t just observe it—you become it. That intimacy made music feel like the most powerful entry point. Another turning point was understanding that my skill set—this voice, this creative mind, the way I compose and conceptualize—is rare. And when you’ve been given something rare, you have a responsibility to use it. More and more, people around me began saying, ‘I’m glad you chose this path.’ And deep down, I knew they were right. It would be a waste not to see this through. So yeah—music is my passion, but it’s also my calling. It’s how I’ll tell the story I was born to tell. The magnum opus is coming. It’s just not out yet. But when it does arrive, music will have been the doorway that made it all possible.
What was the inspiration behind your EP, Got It?
With Got It, I knew from the start I wanted to create something smooth, vibey, and laid- back—something that reflects that more relaxed side of my personality. I approached it almost like a playlist you can throw on in any room, any vibe, and it just works. That’s where the title comes from too—it’s like, ‘Yeah, I got it,’ whether that’s confidence, presence, or the vibe itself. This project leans into my R&B-pop side: very polished, very luxurious, but still accessible. It’s fluid, stylish, and designed to flow. Think of it as a curated experience that shows one side of who I am.
The EP has received a great response from your fans. Your previous singles – “Twilight” and “Regret It” were hits as well. Does that put pressure on you to outdo yourself the next time?
Yeah, I’m definitely glad the EP resonated the way it did. And seeing “Twilight” and “Regret It” hit like they did, it’s always a great feeling. But honestly, I don’t really feel pressure in the traditional sense. I’m constantly focused on growth. I spend most of my time thinking about how I can evolve: creatively, personally, and even business-wise. So to me, it’s not a matter of if I’ll outdo myself, it’s a given. I’m always building, always refining. I feel like I’ve only tapped into maybe 5% of what I’m capable of. That’s not an exaggeration. The real work is just beginning. That’s not about ego—it’s just how much more I know I have to give creatively. So no, I don’t feel pressure—I feel momentum.
Hip-hop is a very popular genre of music. How do you ensure that your work is unique? How do you balance influence with originality in carving out your own space in the industry?
Funny enough, originality was never something I struggled with—if anything, I’ve had people ask me to dial it back. That’s the irony. So I’ve never had an issue being unique. Sometimes the challenge is making that originality digestible for the masses. That said, if you want to carve out your own lane while still honoring your influences, there are a few key things. First, you’ve got to know your voice—your natural voice. Nobody else has your exact tone, cadence, or delivery. You can try to imitate someone else, but it won’t hit the same.
The second you lock into your true voice, everything you make will automatically carry your fingerprint. Second, you’ve got to be open-minded and willing to combine influences in ways most people wouldn’t. That’s where real originality comes from. For me, one of my signature styles is blending hip-hop, melodic rap, R&B, and symphonic orchestration—classical music, film scores. Just putting those influences together created something different. And paired with my unique tone? That’s how I built my sound.
Lastly, the persona you present has to be a real extension of who you are. If it’s too far removed, it feels forced—and then you’re not carving out a lane, you’re just cosplaying someone else. I think the real issue for most artists isn’t how to be original—it’s that they’re too afraid to be. They’re scared to step out of the formula. But at the end of the day, why would anyone listen to a copy when the original already exists? You’ve got to know your voice, embrace your influences, and be bold enough to bet on your own lane. That’s how you stand out.
NBA games, WWE events, and VR games featured your music. Talk about how some of these collaborations happened.
I can’t go into too much detail about how they happened behind the scenes, but I can definitely tell you why they landed. I’ve always made music with a cinematic mindset. So when people tell me, ‘This sounds like it should be synced,’ it doesn’t surprise me. That’s by design. I see everything through the lens of a director. That’s how I think when I produce, write, and perform. So naturally, the music fits into spaces like sports, gaming, or entertainment. Those collaborations happened because the sound speaks the language of those worlds.
You’re part of a wave of South Asian voices breaking into mainstream hip-hop. What does representation mean to you—and how do you hope your story inspires the next generation?
To me, true representation means being able to express your creativity without limits—without being boxed in by stereotypes or treated like a token. It’s not just about visibility. It’s about fairness, freedom, and the ability to be complex, bold, and original without having to justify it. I hope my story shows the next generation that you can break the chains. You can defy the odds. Even if the system wasn’t built for you, even if some people don’t want to see South Asian voices in these spaces, you can still carve out your place. And I’m not just talking about external resistance. Sometimes the doubt comes from within our own communities—not out of malice, but because these paths haven’t been walked often. I want to help change that narrative. We belong—not just in the margins. We can lead. We can innovate. We can rewrite the script. That’s what I stand for—and that’s what I hope others see in my journey.