Ettie: Time Travel, Punk Dreams, and the Poetry of Survival

July 13, 2025

Ettie: Time Travel, Punk Dreams, and the Poetry of Survival

Ettie's dramatic entrance onto the scene causes one to recall comets, and now she exists in a world of truth and pop-punk. Ettie's aesthetic is half grit and fire, cultivated with burning guitar hooks raging against a necessity to shake and melt everything between rage and fury. The heat of a peaceful heart that tightens fists is balanced against rage, tempered by strange anger—a flare intent at defying a world of hurt. "Marty McFly" is her backward glance, a time-warped love letter to her younger self—a brave whisper through time: you’re okay, even when the world says otherwise. She is drenched in all of her stories in glorious pandemonium, and she is the very definition of the rockstar we never even knew we wanted, the one our worlds have lacked for far too long.

The book begins with ge tting in over her head and seeing her lyrics to bigger songs, and getting to actually play in London at the height of Punk Pop is in itself a one-of-a-kind story. The language and imagery that Ettie employs in her songs present a richer tale than the imagination can envision. The artistry and depth of understanding of Ettie is indicated by the manner in which she weaves Shakespeare's poems into her songs. A patchwork of family friends and shadowy recollections of Patti Smith anthems ignited a fresh feminist passion that sang every fresh banner headline following a twenty something decades of hiding behind a veil.

But even punk hearts shatter—and in May 2024, Ettie crashed. A fractured spine, a smashed neck, and the icy breath of death rearranged her world. Hospital rooms were classrooms; the silence among vital statistics educated her more than songs ever educated her. Suddenly terrors heretofore hanging large were shadows. "Live every day consciously for yourself," she says now, her queer voice as sharp as morning on a rooftop. Her music became both sunrise and scream—a celebration of survival, of owning your narrative before it’s too late to tell it.

Her latest single, "You’ll Never See Me Cry", shimmers with raw pride and quiet defiance. It's a Gemini heart refusing to break publicly, a song about holding your ground when love has already packed its bags. Between Avril Lavigne's spitfire attitude and Gracie Abrams' fragile pain, there is a way Ettie carves out for herself—taking choral resonance, acoustic passion, and a maelstrom of emotion and mixing it up so it can destroy and repair. She's not writing songs anymore; she's building catharsis. And when you hit play, you don't merely hear her—you recall your own resilience too.