
Montreal artist Miah Reeves is open to a fault, and that shows up in her music. "I hear a lot of people say it's isn't that deep, well it is that deep," talking about life and themes that have inspired her music. "I've had a lot of luck in my life, both good and bad," she tells me. The range of experience and depth of emotion in her work speaks to that, her sound is clean yet raw, and intentional, capturing emotions that are sometimes hard to feel or face.
Her music confronts loss head-on, but it feels like she's sitting right beside you while she does it. With roughly 6,500 monthly Spotify listeners, Reeves occupies an undiscovered side of streaming, but there's a breadth of depth to her catalog that show that doesn't matter.
Her most recent song, "Marjorie's Home," creates a haunting portrait of loss, stepping you through it, reconciling with that feeling. The song was written about a loss experienced in her life, and you can feel it through every line.
Reeves' writing is often stream-of-consciousness, placing you directly in her head as the sounds of her guitar wrap around her thoughts. The empathy she delivers reminds you that you aren't alone, that someone else has felt this too. It's a beautiful meditation on loss, but it brings familiarity as comfort—knowing you aren't the only one who's experienced grief this deeply.
The lyrics feel lived-in. "We made an oath in the tiled grove..." she sings, eliciting the warmth of closeness and shared promises. Then the music builds, and you can hear the frustration crack through, "...now it's just bleached tile, and I'm a mess." She's opening up, letting you in on the anger that so often accompanies loss.
When I asked what influences her music, she paused deeply to reflect, "I want to leave something behind." There's an almost psychic quality to her sound, emotions bouncing off the walls of her bedroom and landing somewhere deep in your chest.

Miah Reeves is a Montreal Artist that "Releases Music Sometimes". She's a kind a spirit and has some great stuff coming out this year