Energy Whores – Electric Field: Press Photo: Fiore Guglielmi
Formed in the creative underbelly of New York City, Energy Whores is the uncompromising electro-art project of Carrie Schoenfeld and Attilio Valenti, a duo whose work fuses fierce social critique with boundary-pushing electronic soundscapes. The band’s origins trace back to a humble DIY basement studio, but their artistic vision has always been expansive, fearlessly blending genres, mediums, and ideologies to construct music that challenges as much as it captivates. At the center of this project is Carrie Schoenfeld, a classically-trained pianist whose creative path has wound through filmmaking, Off-Broadway production, and now avant-electronic composition. Her multidisciplinary background shapes Energy Whores’ sonic identity: cinematic in scope, theatrically expressive, and driven by a literary awareness of the world’s fractures. Her work is marked by a refusal to shy away from controversial or uncomfortable truths. Instead, she sharpens them into the lyrical and sonic weapons she calls avant electro, a collision of EDM, electro-pop, experimental art rock, and folk-rooted storytelling.
Guitarist Attilio Valenti expands the duo’s sound with textural electric riffs and atmospheric contributions that help anchor the project’s emotional resonance. Together, they build music designed not simply for listening, but for awakening. Energy Whores’ catalogue has earned critical praise for its fearless honesty, drawing attention from CLASH, Fame Magazine, EARMILK, TAGG, and a host of independent radio outlets across the world. Whether delivering electropunk protest anthems like “Hey Hey Hate” or hyperpop-charged critiques of consumer culture such as “Pretty Sparkly Things,” the band has established itself as one of the most unfiltered voices in the alternative electronic scene. Their work frequently tackles societal decay, authoritarianism, performative culture, and the emotional toll of the modern world. With their upcoming 2025 full-length release “Arsenal of Democracy”, a genre-bending fusion of EDM, electro-pop, experimental art rock, and synth-driven folk lyricism, Energy Whores continue to expand their artistic mission.
The album promises brutally honest narratives wrapped in immersive dance-worthy sound design; music built not to comfort, but to confront. In Schoenfeld’s own words: “I don’t write love songs. I write warning signs.” This is the ethos that fuels Energy Whores’ music as rebellion, music as reckoning, music as truth. On September 26, 2025, Energy Whores return with “Electric Friends,” a slow-burning, hypnotic meditation on digital loneliness that glows like a neon heartbeat in the dark. The single reveals a softer, more introspective dimension of their avant-electro universe, peeling back the shimmering surface of online connection to expose the emptiness beneath. Built from layered synths, atmospheric pulses, and a vocal delivery that feels close yet untouchable, “Electric Friends” unfolds like a haunting lullaby for an age lit by screens. It is both intimate and isolating, an emotional parable for a world where friendships flicker with electricity and disappear the moment the lights go out.
“Electric Friends” by Energy Whores opens with an atmosphere that immediately feels like stepping into a dimly lit digital dreamscape, where every sound glows with an otherworldly luminescence. The introduction breathes with soft, translucent synth pads that float like drifting mist, creating a sensation of hovering between reality and simulation. There is a gentle hum beneath everything, almost like the low electrical buzz of devices waking up, hinting that the world of the song is powered by circuitry rather than human touch. Light ambient textures shimmer around the edges, tiny chimes, reversed tones, and airy atmospheric sweeps that ripple outward like data signals moving through empty space. This beginning is expressive yet restrained, creating a slow-spreading emotional tension that feels lonely, wistful, and beautifully suspended. Before any words are spoken, the track’s sonic canvas already paints a vivid image of connection filtered through screens, preparing the listener for a journey where warmth and distance collide.
As the beat begins to assemble itself, the song shifts from ethereal stillness into a slow, hypnotic pulse that becomes the backbone of its emotional structure. The percussion is electronic, soft yet deeply rhythmic, composed of muted kick drums, subtle hi-hat ticks, and a steady programmed throb that feels like a mechanical heartbeat. The groove is smooth, steady, and quietly infectious, never forceful, but continuously pulling the listener deeper into its hypnotic flow. Layer by layer, more instruments slide into place: hazy synth arpeggios that flicker like blinking notifications, bass tones that gently swell and recede, and faint digital clicks that mimic the sensation of tapping on a touchscreen in the dark. The entire progression is built with remarkable precision, each element introduced with patience and intention, ensuring the track never feels crowded. Instead, it breathes with a calm, calculated spaciousness, mirroring the emptiness that often lies beneath constant online “connection.”
When the vocals enter, it arrives like a soft glow cutting through the electronic haze, adding a distinctly human warmth without breaking the track’s cool, synthetic atmosphere. The vocal tone is airy, slightly distant, and filled with a quiet vulnerability that perfectly matches the song’s emotional core. The singing comes with a controlled fragility, as though every word is floating just above the beat, suspended and weightless. The mix places the vocals slightly forward but still wrapped in a light reverb, giving the impression of speaking through digital space, close yet untouchable. The vocal phrasing is gentle and deliberate, filled with subtle inflections that convey tired honesty, emotional exhaustion, and a longing for something real. The way the voice blends with the instrumental texture enhances the thematic tension between humanity and technology, intimacy and distance, making her performance one of the song’s most captivating features.
The lyrical content of Energy Whores’ “Electric Friends” deepens this emotional world with reflections on digital companionship, moments of loneliness disguised as constant interaction, and the quiet ache of relationships that flicker in and out like unstable Wi-Fi connections. The songwriting avoids dramatic declarations and instead leans into soft, perceptive lines that cut with simple truth. Each lyric feels like a private confession about the emptiness of virtual relationships and the longing for something tangible beyond screens. The metaphor of “electric friends” becomes a powerful symbol, people who appear luminous and close while the device is active, yet disappear the moment the signal fades. The calm, steady melody gives the words even more weight, allowing the emotional impact to build slowly rather than explode. The result is a lyrical landscape that is introspective, truthful, and deeply aligned with the song’s understated production.
As the track progresses, its structure expands with meticulous layering that strengthens the mood without disturbing its calm emotional center. Deeper synth pads swell underneath the vocals, adding warmth and density, while the bass subtly grows fuller, giving the track a smoother low-end presence that enhances its groove. Occasional synth leads glide through the mix like streaks of neon light, adding moments of shimmer that feel hopeful yet restrained. The rhythm remains steady and hypnotic, avoiding dramatic peaks in favor of a controlled, circular motion that mirrors the repetitive nature of digital engagement. Small risers, swelling atmospheric tones, and filtered effects add gentle lifts throughout the song, giving it a sense of motion even in its emotional stillness. This seamless progression creates an immersive soundscape that feels like drifting through a digital city at night, alive with artificial light, yet strangely quiet inside.
A haunting, hypnotic reflection on digital loneliness, ‘Electric Friends’ blends emotional vulnerability with cinematic electro-artistry, exposing the fragile illusion of online connection.
In its final moments, “Electric Friends” begins to dissolve back into the same glowing stillness from which it emerged, allowing the instrumental layers to gradually fade like a screen dimming into darkness. The synths soften, the percussion thins, and the ambient textures fade into a delicate hum, leaving behind a lingering sense of emotional quiet. This ending perfectly mirrors the song’s themes, connections that feel real for a moment but vanish as soon as the device powers off. The afterglow is subtle but deeply resonant, leaving the listener with a mix of melancholy, reflection, and quiet understanding. By combining restrained electronic production, vulnerable vocals, thoughtful lyrics, and a groove that feels both soothing and haunting, “Electric Friends” becomes a richly textured exploration of modern loneliness and the fragile illusion of digital intimacy.
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