Hi guys, my name is Ryan Koh, and I am a 24-year-old Independent Music Producer in Singapore.
I started making music when I was 15. I borrowed my cousin’s old laptop, installed free software, and spent nights experimenting with sounds that didn’t even make sense. But it made me feel alive. Music was my escape — and later, my dream.
Fast forward a few years, and the dream became my job. But the job… quietly changed the dream. Deadlines, trends, TikTok timing, “make it catchy,” “make it viral.” I wasn’t creating anymore — I was producing.
The spark I once had turned into pressure. Some days, I stared at my screen for hours, waiting for inspiration that never came. Other days, I just felt numb.
One of my close friends, who’s also a creator, told me about Pop Workshop. He said, “It’s not about creativity. It’s about honesty.” I didn’t fully understand that, but I trusted him enough to join.
Stepping Into Pop Workshop
The workshop wasn’t what I expected. No hype, no bravado, no forced positivity. Just a few people, each quietly carrying something they didn’t know how to name.
When it was my turn to speak, I said something I had never admitted out loud. I’m afraid I’ve lost the part of me that loves music.
Nobody tried to motivate me. Nobody said “Don’t give up.” They simply held the space for me — and somehow, that silence felt louder than anything I had heard in months.
Pop Workshop didn’t talk about creativity, but ironically, that’s where mine started returning.
What Happened After the Workshop
A few days later, I opened my music software again — but this time, not for a client. Not for a deadline. Not for a trend.
Just for me.
I played around with soft chords and slow beats. I recorded sounds from my window — birds, wind, distant MRT noise. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t polished. But it felt real.
And that feeling — realness — was something I hadn’t touched in years.
Since then, I’ve changed how I create. I still work with clients, but I also set aside time every week to make music with no purpose except expression. Strangely, my best ideas come from those moments.
The spark didn’t return suddenly — it returned gently, like an old friend knocking on the door.
What I Learned
Pop Workshop didn’t teach me how to write better melodies or produce better mixes. It reminded me why I started creating in the first place — because it made me feel alive.
I learned that creativity isn’t about forcing inspiration. It’s about reconnecting with yourself so inspiration can breathe.
And sometimes, all it takes is being in a room where you don’t have to pretend — a room where you can finally be honest.
That’s what Pop Workshop gave me. And that’s how I found my music again.