The Chaos Engine: Why Kmoe, Jane Remover, and 2hollis Are the Most Exciting Thing Happening in Music Right Now

There's a specific feeling when you stumble into a sound that makes everything else feel slightly outdated. Not better or worse — just operating on a different frequency. The familiar stuff still sounds fine. It just doesn't feel urgent the way it used to. Something shifted, and you can't un-hear it.

That's what happened the first time I heard Kmoe. And then Jane Remover. And then 2hollis. Three artists who don't make the same music, don't come from the same place, and would probably resist being grouped together in an article like this one. But they're all drawing from the same well of internet-native, genre-dissolving energy that's making hyperpop and its offspring the most exciting corner of music right now.

I don't use that phrase lightly. "Most exciting" gets thrown around a lot, usually by people trying to sell you something. But what's happening in the space these three artists occupy — the zone where hyperpop bleeds into digicore bleeds into shoegaze bleeds into rap bleeds into whatever comes next — is genuinely unlike anything else in the current landscape. It's fast, it's chaotic, it's beautiful, and it's being made almost entirely by people under 22 who grew up treating the internet not as a tool but as a native environment.

Let me try to explain why it matters.

What Even Is Hyperpop Anymore?

The honest answer is: nobody agrees, and that's sort of the point.

Hyperpop started as a contentious umbrella term in the 2010s, rooted in the PC Music collective and artists like SOPHIE and 100 gecs. As NPR described it, hyperpop "has become a contentious umbrella term for a style characterized by its exuberance and kitsch, unafraid to delve into the cybernetic or 'lowbrow.'" It was pop music cranked to 11 — every vocal processed into the stratosphere, every beat hitting like a sugar rush, every production choice dialed up to the point of absurdity. And it worked. For a while, it felt like hyperpop might genuinely break through.

But then the genre splintered. Digicore emerged — related to hyperpop but distinct. SoundCloud curator Billy Bugara described it as "not Hyperpop and not Glitchcore," something that pulled from the same digital toolkit but aimed for a different emotional register — more introspective, more raw, less interested in kitsch and more interested in honesty.

And then there was the backlash to the label itself. On r/LetsTalkMusic, the sentiment was blunt: "Most artists branded as 'Hyperpop' actually resent the name, viewing it as a reductive category imposed by major labels to classify music that didn't fit existing genres." The artists making this music didn't want to be filed under a single heading. They wanted to make whatever they wanted to make.

Here's the important thing: the label doesn't matter. What matters is that a generation of young producers are making music that treats genre boundaries as suggestions, not rules. And three artists in particular show why this moment is special.

Kmoe — The Debut That Proved the Scene Has Depth

Kmoe is a 20-year-old Canadian producer and songwriter who's been making music since roughly 2014 — which means he started when he was about eight years old. Let that sink in. By the time most people are figuring out what music they like, Kmoe was already deep into the process of making it.

He broke through with his 2021 single "Gloves" and quickly became a fixture in the hyperpop/digicore community. His path into the scene is telling: as NPR reported, artists like quinn and Kmoe "connected on these servers, initially bonding over video games before transitioning to music collaboration." That's the pipeline now. Not open mics, not label showcases — Discord servers and gaming lobbies. He was collaborating with Jane Remover as early as 2021, part of an interconnected web of bedroom producers who found each other online and started building something together.

But the reason Kmoe belongs in this conversation isn't his backstory — it's his 2025 debut album K1. And K1 is remarkable.

The Calliope Music review described it as "a record full of vitality and high energy internet core fizzy fun pop songs" with "EDM and anyronica flavor, even some shoe gaze." That's a lot of genre tags for one album, but it captures the experience: K1 sounds like someone threw a dozen influences into a blender and the result somehow tastes coherent. Over on r/popheads, a listener called it "one of my most anticipated releases of the year and it does not disappoint," while another described it as a reference point for "the evolving post-hyperpop genre."

What makes Kmoe special — what separates him from the pack — is emotional depth. Hyperpop can sometimes prioritize chaos over feeling, production fireworks over actual songwriting. K1 doesn't make that trade. It deals with disappointment, ambition, and failed connections with an earnestness that cuts through all the sonic maximalism. The production is enormous and hyperactive, but underneath the gloss, there's a kid working through real things. That combination — overwhelming sound, vulnerable heart — is what the best music in this space does, and Kmoe does it as well as anyone right now.

Jane Remover — The Shape-Shifter

If Kmoe represents the scene's emotional depth, Jane Remover represents its restless ambition. She's 21, from New Jersey, and she might be the most creatively fearless person in independent music.

The biography reads like someone who can't sit still: she started on Discord as a fan and gamer, transitioned into music under the alias dltzk, released the 2021 EP Teen Week — which NPR called "a pivotal work for the genre" — then pivoted to shoegaze and slacker rock under the alias "venturing" with the album Ghostholding, then pivoted again to doom rock on 2023's Census Designated. Every project sounds like a different artist. That's the point.

And then came 2025's Revengeseekerz. Created during a tour with JPEGMAFIA, it marks a return to digicore — but harder, more rap-influenced, angrier. The Daily Campus gave it a perfect 5/5 score, calling it "fun, introspective and unapologetically confident in its sound."

Jane Remover is "the weirdo auteur" — her music is "too wordy, spikey, and flamboyant to fade into the background." — Chasing Fridays

What makes Jane Remover special is the refusal to stay in one place. Every project sounds different. She treats genre as a tool, not a cage. And she came from literally nowhere — as Chasing Fridays described her, "an average kid from suburban New Jersey who stumbled into SoundCloud notoriety in their bedroom during lockdown." That origin story matters. It's not romantic in the traditional rock & roll sense. There's no mythologized dive bar, no legendary open mic night. Just a teenager, a laptop, and a Discord server. And now she's one of the most important voices in independent music.

She treats genre as a tool, not a cage. Every project sounds like a different artist. That's the point.

2hollis — The One Who Might Actually Go Mainstream (And Make It Look Easy)

If Jane Remover is the scene's restless avant-garde, 2hollis is its most natural pop star — the one who makes you think this whole post-hyperpop universe might actually cross over without losing its soul in the process.

Hollis Parker Frazier-Herndon is 21 years old. His father is John Herndon, drummer for the legendary post-rock group Tortoise. His mother is Skrillex's publicist. As Chasing Fridays put it, he was "incubated for this shit." But pedigree doesn't make the music good. The music makes the music good. And 2hollis's music is very, very good.

He started in 2018 as "Drippysoup," making what 032c once described as "medieval trap." He publicly rejected the digicore label in a 2022 song — a gesture that tells you everything about how these artists feel about being categorized. His discography has moved fast: White Tiger (2022), 2 (2023), Boy (2024), and then Star (2025), his first release on Interscope Records. He opened for Ken Carson on The Chaos Tour in 2024. He has 4.1 million monthly Spotify listeners. The New York Times called his single "Afraid" (featuring Nate Sib) a "relentlessly preppy hyperelectropop bomb" and included it in their Best Songs of 2025.

"If there's any artist who feels poised to bring the digicore/hyperpop backwash that's been circling the underground for years into the mainstream, it's 2hollis." — Chasing Fridays

What makes 2hollis special is that he's the polished mirror to Jane Remover's chaos. His music is structured, accessible, pop-leaning — but still operating in that post-hyperpop space. The production is still warped, still glitchy, still obviously coming from the same internet-native universe as everything else discussed here. He just makes it sound like something you could hear on the radio without flinching. That's a rare skill. He's proof the sound can scale without losing its edge.

What They Have in Common

On the surface, these three artists don't look like a movement. Kmoe makes fizzy, emotionally earnest pop. Jane Remover refuses to make the same thing twice. 2hollis is building a bridge to the mainstream. They'd probably resist being grouped together. But beneath the surface differences, there are five threads that tie them — and the broader scene they represent — into something coherent.

They're Discord kids. All three came up through internet communities — Discord servers, SoundCloud, online collectives. Not record labels, not local scenes. The internet IS their scene. As NPR noted, Discord has become hyperpop's "true home" — "one of the last platforms reminiscent of the early internet's chat rooms and forums." These are artists who found their collaborators the same way they found their raid groups. That's not a footnote. That's the whole story.

Genre is a suggestion. None of them stay in one lane. Kmoe blends EDM, shoegaze, and pop. Jane Remover has made digicore, doom rock, shoegaze, and rage rap. 2hollis sits at the intersection of pop, rap, and EDM. Chasing Fridays captured it precisely: "The genre lines they're mutually crossing — pop, rap, EDM — are somehow even blurrier than their hyperpop predecessors." They don't cross genre boundaries because it's trendy. They cross them because the boundaries don't feel real to people who grew up with every genre one click away.

The bedroom-to-world pipeline. All three are essentially DIY. Jane Remover made her pivotal early work in a bedroom in New Jersey. Kmoe came up through video game Discord servers in Canada. Even 2hollis, despite industry connections, self-released his first three albums. As Music Press Asia observed: "Social media and streaming platforms have democratized music creation, allowing underground artists to gain traction without relying on traditional industry gatekeepers." These artists didn't wait for permission. They just started.

They reject the label but embody the spirit. All three resist being called "hyperpop." But they all operate by its core principle. NPR quoted 100 gecs' Les explaining that the focus is "on the creation itself, rather than the creators." As tnocs.com put it: "Hyperpop is more about collaboration, sharing creative ideas, and not being territorial about it." The ethos matters more than the label. And the ethos — openness, collaboration, genre-fluidity, community — runs through everything these three artists do.

They're young and they're NOW. All around 20-21 years old. They grew up entirely online. They don't remember a time before streaming, before social media, before the internet collapsed every possible influence into a single feed. Their music sounds like the internet feels — fast, overwhelming, beautiful, chaotic, sincere underneath the noise. They're not making music about the digital age. They're making music from it.

Why This Matters

There's a narrative that hyperpop was "supposed to" go mainstream and didn't — that it was positioned as the next big thing and then fizzled. On r/LetsTalkMusic, one user noted that hyperpop is "too experimental for mainstream appeal, yet mainstream artists are now adopting its elements." That's the irony. Hyperpop didn't conquer the mainstream — it infiltrated it. You can hear its DNA in pop production everywhere now, even if nobody's calling it hyperpop.

But the real story is that hyperpop didn't need to go mainstream. It evolved. It became digicore, post-hyperpop, whatever you want to call it. The label changed, the spirit didn't. And artists like Kmoe, Jane Remover, and 2hollis are making the case that this sound isn't a novelty — it's a new foundation. Something you can build on, not just react to.

The stakes here are higher than one genre's trajectory. Chasing Fridays framed it in terms of pop music's future: "Following Playboi Carti's rage-rap capstone and Charli XCX's hyperpop mic drop Brat, rap and pop are simultaneously due to transition out of the styles that defined the previous half-decade. With Star and Revengeseekerz, 2hollis and Jane Remover offer complementary visions for what the next five years might sound like."

Read that again. These aren't niche curiosities. They're potential blueprints. The question isn't whether the post-hyperpop sound will matter — it already does. The question is how far it goes.

Hyperpop didn't die. It grew up. And the music it's producing now is better than the music that got it noticed in the first place.

The Compass Points Forward

Kmoe, Jane Remover, and 2hollis represent exactly what Track North exists to cover — music being made by people who care more about the art than the algorithm, who built their audience through community rather than marketing, who refuse to be categorized because categories can't contain what they're doing.

They came from Discord servers and bedrooms. They found each other through video games and SoundCloud. They made music that doesn't fit into any existing bucket, so they built new ones. And now they're doing something that the music industry, for all its data and market research, never seems to see coming: they're proving that the most exciting sounds emerge not from boardrooms but from the margins.

If you haven't listened to any of them yet, here's a roadmap: start with Kmoe's K1, then Jane Remover's Revengeseekerz, then 2hollis's Star. Listen in that order. You'll hear the same restless, genre-dissolving energy expressed three completely different ways. K1 is earnest and fizzy, a rush of feeling wrapped in maximalist production. Revengeseekerz is spiky and confrontational, music that dares you to keep up. Star is polished and immediate, proof that this sound can be as catchy as anything on the radio. Together, they draw a map of where music is going.

And you'll understand why this corner of music feels like the future — not because it's trying to replace what came before, but because it's building something new from the wreckage of every genre that pretended it could exist in isolation.

The best music being made right now doesn't fit on a shelf. That's the point.