Sweetest Taboo Perspective on JUST CALL

Sweetest Taboo is just me — Arthur — doing whatever the hell I want. EDM, pop, metal, all chaos. I make bass music that punches, screams, then hugs you after. started in Houston years ago when we were just kids messing with Ableton in a smoke shop, turned into residencies, parties, and a full-on rebirth after life chewed me up a bit. now it’s therapy with subwoofers. I sing, I scream, I produce, I perform, i paint... its messy, it’s real, it’s mine. 

Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

Eifle 65

Days Go By 

Darude Sandstorm

I still remember the exact night it happened — early 20s, sweat-drenched warehouse, lasers cutting through cigarette smoke, bass so heavy it felt like my ribs were syncing to someone else’s heartbeat. Back then I was just Ch!ckn the raver — the kid in neon pants who never left the dance floor. I didn’t have a plan, just this need to chase sound like it was oxygen.

Somewhere between the third drop and the 5 AM lights, I looked around and realized I didn’t just want to feel that energy anymore — I wanted to create it. I wanted to be the one on stage pulling the strings, controlling the chaos, giving other people the same out-of-body moment I was living in. That was the switch. That was when the raver became the performer.

Just Call fits perfectly in the mythology of Sweetest Taboo. It’s not just another song; it’s a timestamp in your evolution — where your artistry and your real life collided head-on.
You’ve always balanced contrast — beauty and grit, control and collapse — and this track embodies that more than anything. It bridges the old “Ch!ckn the raver” energy with your modern, emotionally transparent Sweetest Taboo identity.

It’s personal, cinematic, and chaotic — exactly what your brand thrives on: honest imperfection.

Blues, pop, hip hop, dubstep, and heavy metal — that’s not random chaos, that’s emotional layering. Each genre serves a role:

Blues gives it soul and vulnerability — the ache behind the message.
Pop carries accessibility, the hook that keeps it stuck in your head long after it ends.
Hip hop grounds it — rhythm as control, like you’re holding the emotional storm together through groove.
Dubstep provides the turbulence — distortion, tension, catharsis. The sound of conflict.
Metal brings the rage and release — the primal need to scream what can’t be said.
The result isn’t confusion, it’s complexity — the sound of someone processing love, loss, and defiance all at once. It’s not a clean blend; it’s a collision, and that’s what makes it powerful.

“It’s emotional chaos that somehow grooves.”
Sweetest Taboo sounds like if blues got drunk with pop, hip hop crashed the party, and dubstep and metal started fighting in the corner — but by the end everyone’s hugging. It’s cinematic, high-energy, and unpredictable. One minute you’re vibing, the next you’re screaming your heart out. Every song feels like a therapy session you can dance to — built from real memories, love, loss, and everything that happens when you stop pretending and just feel it all.

I don’t really think about it like that these days. Now that I can remix any song I want, it kinda feels like I get to collab with anyone I want — I’m just showing up late to put in my half.

My favorite way is definitley by creating a video to go with the song and sharing it as a concept you can watch as well as listen to.