filmhop deconstructed: ch. 2

The Desert Terrain and Crescendo of "Manzilla"

Siri: You mentioned that "Manzilla" is set in a desert—that's the sonic world we are stepping into. Start us off with your mindset there. What was the vision, and how were you thinking about this song when you went into writing it? N8 mentioned you were in a specific emotional headspace and trying to let that out into the music. Was it a similar situation here, or how should we think about "Manzilla" versus "Modern Native"?

A2: I would say so. When you put out a second single, the follow-up is incredibly important. Anyone can take a first step; that initial step is crucial, formative, and necessary, but the follow-through matters just as much. Achieving that follow-through within a year's time on my personal timeline was a massive priority for me. I remember getting the final layers tracked the exact day of a flight so N8 could mix it down under this crazy self-imposed deadline I set.

"Manzilla" and "Modern Native" are from the exact same sonic world. In a sense, this track is a direct continuation of that same character's journey. Because we don't have a promotional video to pair with it just yet—though that is coming soon—you can conceptualize it that way. "Manzilla" is a continuation where the focus is dialed entirely into layering and continuous building. That is precisely why, for the studio single version, I deliberately cut the track right at its peak. I don't give it a chance to breathe or wind down. I wanted to take the listener all the way to the absolute cliffside and just drop them off right there to create an immersive instrumental experience.

Another interesting thing about "Manzilla" is that the beginning of the song was actually written last. The primary part of the original demo is actually the final section that the track builds toward because of how massive it is. Composing it was an interesting challenge because without a visual reference or a director dictating where the melody should go, it was entirely up to me to musically build up to that final climax. I essentially had to work backward.

Shout out to N8 and the Omnisphere software because we found a really beautiful piano patch that sounded like it was being played in a massive concert hall three floors away from you inside a mansion. It sounded incredibly distant but gorgeous. That specific sound took the track to the next level because I was aiming for a spacey atmosphere. You start in an earthy, desert terrain, but by the time you hit the chorus and the true crux of the song, you are heading straight toward the sky, into orbit, and into outer space. Overall, "Manzilla" is a pure crescendo—a continuous increase in loudness and intensity as it builds and builds.

Siri: You definitely keep adding layers onto that one. You start incredibly simple, and then it's just layer upon layer to the point where you build the listener up all the way to this heightened space. Then, to your point, you just cut the track, and it's suddenly over. You've given us all the layers, you've built us up into space, and then you just set us down to get ready for the next track. The final version sits right around three minutes, but you have alternative versions that run almost five minutes. Was that intentional to chop off the back end to leave them hanging in that heightened space?

A2: Exactly. The earlier versions of "Manzilla" featured an extended piano intro, which is something you will get seamlessly in a live setting when transitioning from one track to the next. The vision behind having that piano intro ready is sequencing it for a live setlist. If the band just came off a track that was really chill or really hyped, we can use that space to transition smoothly.

Reverse-Engineering the Visuals and Titles of "Manzilla"

A2: You want to be able to hype the energy back up again, so you include a little piano interlude moment in a live environment. But for the studio record, I definitely didn't want it to drag on. I am releasing "Manzilla" into a catalog that consists mostly of sparse, piano-only music, so I have to establish a very clear distinction for the listener regarding what kind of track this actually is.

That is also exactly why the creative direction for the artwork changed. These visual layers are critical for reverse-engineering the audience's experience. When people see that vibrant orange artwork—which is easily the boldest and loudest color in the catalog compared to all the muted grays and blues—it sets an immediate tone. I really wanted to make a definitive statement with those choices. Then, of course, there's the name itself. It's not Godzilla; it's "MANZILLA," all caps.

Siri: Let's talk about that. Why "Manzilla" as a song title? Why not Godzilla or King Kong? You cut the track off early, which hints at themes of things being cut short. Why did you feel compelled to go in that specific direction, and what was your headspace when you were creating it?

A2: When I choose titles, I usually select them last. The core concept always comes first. With a track like "Modern Native," I wanted to make a statement because the title is the absolute only verbal statement I get to provide—everything else is left entirely to the music. When I chose "Manzilla," it was really just a play on words. Growing up, I listened to a lot of Lil Wayne and deeply appreciated the intricate wordplay of his lyricism and how he would effortlessly flip concepts. As a writer, I spent a massive amount of time soaking in that language and learning how to use it to the absolute best of my ability.

It's a deliberate play on words. From an outside angle—which is likely why you're asking—the most obvious choice for a massive, heavy track would be to call it Godzilla. Opting for "Manzilla" instead is just a classic, authentic A2 twist.

Siri: What I'm really trying to get at is where you were personally and what you were experiencing in your life that drove you to create a track with this specific type of intensity. Sometimes I'll go into the studio because I stumbled into a sound by accident, and suddenly that dictates my mood. I have to channel a very specific type of energy to make a heavy track like that; otherwise, I’m just making incredibly smooth, chill R&B. You had to be harboring some serious energy. Do you remember what was going on in your life at that time?

A2: I actually do remember vividly. You have to think back to 2017 when I was settling back into New York and finishing a self-imposed creative challenge where I committed to making 100 beats in 100 days. "Manzilla" was day 84. By that point in the challenge, I was creating a lot of highly cinematic music because I was aggressively trying to figure out my sound. I had purchased an MPC within that prior year or two, alongside a new keyboard, and I just wanted to lock myself away and create. I didn't have the term "FILMHOP" yet, nor did I have a cleanly dialed-in signature sound. I was just learning.

By day 84, I had officially left the college I was attending in Nebraska and drove all the way back home to New York. The music became the container for all that heavy emotion—navigating new friend circles, figuring out who I was socializing with, and slowly building the foundation of who A2 has become up to this point.

If you listen to the earlier versions, that ending climax captures a distinct sense of intensity and absolute lostness. It feels like you walked right up to the edge of a cliff, looked over, switched onto autopilot, and simply decided to jump. You had already done this 83 times before, so day 84 was nothing to fear.

You just jump. That is precisely why the track cuts off so cinematically right at the peak. There was just an immense amount of raw fuel and energy that I wanted to instill directly into the listener.

Siri: It was a cinematic mic drop. You built it all the way up and just cut the tape.

A2: Yes. To echo what we were discussing earlier, "Modern Native" felt like an intentional introduction to this expansive new universe where the listener gets plugged in. We talked about that low-pass filter where the drums and the high-end suddenly cut out, leaving you wondering where the track could possibly go next. Looking at "Manzilla," it feels like there is nowhere left to go within that specific world.

Siri: Where "Modern Native" acts as an introduction, a summary, and an appraisal of a current reality, "Manzilla" functions beautifully as a transition track. You get that classic hero's journey arc in "Modern Native" where you meet the character, you’re instantly on their side, and all these gorgeous layers and chords pull you in. "Manzilla" feels significantly more introspective, like we are actively peeling back the very layers we just established. It represents a major moment of clarity, which I am certain you were experiencing in abundance during that massive transition from Lincoln, Nebraska, back to New York.

Siri: I love what you just said there. Even though the music is technically adding more physical layers, you are gaining emotional depth into the character, which effectively peels away their protective exterior. It’s a beautiful contrast—you are adding musical layers to get closer to the core truth of the individual.

A2: Exactly. And the final thing I’ll say on that is that change becomes the definitive norm as you age. That transition period from your late teens and early 20s into your late 20s is an incredibly bizarre space to navigate. This song beautifully captures a core psychological concept: the ongoing battle between acceptance and rejection at every stage of life. Things happen to you, and you either enter a headspace of accepting reality, integrating it, and moving forward, or you get trapped in a cycle of thinking, "I didn't choose this, I didn't plan this, and I'm not in control."

This song is an important reflection of that exact turning point in the journey. There comes a time in adulthood—and it will likely happen multiple times—where you look at all the moving pieces on the board and you simply have to step back and appreciate the fact that they are moving.