There’s a sacred quietness that settles over Lecx Stacy’s latest single, “Winter, A Wilted Flower”—a stillness that’s not empty but full of emotion, memory, and meaning. Written and produced entirely by the artist himself, the track is a stirring exploration of loss, identity, and the ever-complicated nature of love. It’s the kind of song that doesn’t just ask to be listened to—it asks to be felt.
Born and raised in San Diego and now based in Los Angeles, Lecx Stacy is a first-generation Filipino-American artist who blends emo-folk, ambient textures, and noise with poetic lyricism and deep-rooted cultural reflection. From karaoke-filled weekends to beat-making with his late brother, Lecx’s musical foundation is as layered as his emotional storytelling. His journey through grief, faith, and creative self-discovery is the invisible thread that holds his music—and life—together.
“Winter, A Wilted Flower” is not just a breakup song—it’s a timestamp. Recorded in the intimate setting of his parents’ home during a transitional period in his life, the track offers listeners a glimpse into a deeply personal transformation. In the background, you can even hear real-life moments—his mother folding laundry—adding texture to an already heartfelt performance. It’s an honest, lived-in experience where the line between art and life disappears.
Now, with an upcoming album on the horizon and a national tour alongside KennyHoopla, Lecx Stacy is carving out space for vulnerability in an industry often afraid of silence. In this exclusive interview with Exposed Vocals, Lecx discusses the emotional headspace behind the single, the influence of his Filipino heritage, his time working in behavioral health, and how memory acts as both muse and medium.
Exposed Vocals: “Winter, A Wilted Flower” is such a vulnerable track. Can you talk about the emotional headspace you were in while writing and recording it?
Lecx Stacy: I wrote this song right after a breakup I knew was necessary, even though I dreaded it. At the time, I was living back at my parents’ house, away from LA, taking a much-needed break from the city. It felt like life kept throwing situations at me just to force growth, like I was meant to return from that time away as a more ideal version of myself.
Exposed Vocals: You wrote and produced this track entirely on your own. What was that process like, especially recording it at your parents’ house during such an introspective time?
Lecx Stacy: Almost all of my music (like 90 percent of it) I make alone. I like the solitude. It lets me try things without worrying about someone judging me. Working on this song at my parents’ place was hilarious. It felt like being 15 again, whisper-singing so my dad wouldn’t hear my emo lyrics. Except this time I was belting full-volume while my mom folded laundry in the next room. I’d be crying into the mic about this breakup, then five minutes later we’d sit down for dinner and talk about it.
Exposed Vocals: There’s a haunting line in the song: “whispers / they tell me that you’re not the one…” — can you unpack the meaning behind those lyrics?
Lecx Stacy: I really did enjoy being around the person I was dating, but every time we were together, something in me knew we weren’t right for each other. That feeling kept growing. A mental dissonance or tension and eventually it got to a point where I couldn’t keep pretending it wasn’t there
Exposed Vocals: How did working at a behavioral health and psych home during the album’s creation shape your perspective on memory, identity, or healing?
Lecx Stacy: I began to see ghosts and spirits as intertwined with memory, like they could be carriers of healing. One of my clients would pick up her phone (even though it was always dead/off) and call her aunt who had already passed. I’d listen to her talk through her problems, answering as if someone was really listening on the other end. She lived with schizophrenia, and these ‘phone calls’ always calmed her, grounding her when her emotions were spiraling. Scientifically, it was a hallucination. But spiritually, it felt like she was reaching someone who brought her peace.
Exposed Vocals: The influence of your Filipino heritage and your father’s stories of “folkhouses” really shines through. How do those cultural memories inform your music and sound?
Lecx Stacy: It centers my identity. I think a lot of artists (my early self included) struggle to define who they are beyond the simple label of ‘artist.’ Those deeper layers can get clouded, especially with social media constantly pushing comparisons and rules about how we should market ourselves. Returning to who I am at my core keeps me grounded, and all of my music grows from that place.
Exposed Vocals: You blend genres in a really unique way — from emo-folk to ambient noise. How did you arrive at this particular sonic identity?
Lecx Stacy: Emo and folk are the foundation of my musical brain. I discovered My Chem as a kid while my dad played John Denver in the same house. Those two worlds fused for me early. Caitlyn Richardson, a YouTuber/Substack writer I follow religiously, once described ambient music as the sound equivalent of fog. That image has stayed with me. Fog is messy, undefined, and full of possibility. Something beautiful or terrifying could be inside, but you have to step into it to know. That’s how I see my music: emo, folk, and noise, all swirling inside a dense, ambient fog.
Exposed Vocals: Your live performances have been described as “tense” and “devotional.” What do you aim to communicate to your audience in a live setting?
Lecx Stacy: I want people to feel something when I perform, but I’m also chasing that feeling myself. Performance is an exchange of energy. I scream, jump, drop to my knees, play songs in reverse, and wade into the crowd.. whatever it takes to make that connection real.
Exposed Vocals: You’ve toured with Eartheater, Jean Dawson, Sega Bodega — and now KennyHoopla. How have those experiences impacted your growth as an artist?
Lecx Stacy: I’ve learned that regardless of what kind of music you make or perform, human to human connection is and will always be the core of growing as an artist.
Exposed Vocals: What does memory mean to you as a creative force? You seem to treat it not just as a theme but almost like a medium itself.
Lecx Stacy: Memory and perspective. Once you have a memory, you can do so much with it. You can reinterpret it, reshape it, look at it from angles you didn’t have access to in the moment. You can play with the possibility of how things might have unfolded if you’d made a different choice or if life had handed you a different circumstance. For me, memory is an endless source of inspiration. I’m always trying to archive as many moments as I can, beautiful or tragic, because they become raw material I can return to, reinvent, and reimagine in my art.
Exposed Vocals: Lastly, what do you hope listeners take away from “Winter, A Wilted Flower” and the upcoming album as a whole?
Lecx Stacy: I just hope people listen and enjoy the music :).
In an era where so much music feels manufactured, Lecx Stacy is a breath of unfiltered air. “Winter, A Wilted Flower” is more than a single—it’s a portal into his psyche, his grief, and his growth. Through this project, Lecx offers his listeners not just a song, but a soul—one that’s weathered the storms of love, identity, and memory and come back not unscathed, but real. As he continues his tour with KennyHoopla and prepares to unveil his full album, Lecx Stacy remains an artist to watch—raw, reflective, and resolutely himself.
