(written August 4th, 2025 · updated November 24th, 2025)
I have come to the realization recently that Vylet Pony is my favorite music artist. I started using last.fm two months ago to test its WACUP integration, and she’s dominated my top spot the entire time. I fear Spotify Wrapped will come out at the end of this year and it’s gonna be a full pony sweep. “Fear” is actually an apt word here—people casually ask me what sort of music I listen to and I visibly squirm. My face goes red, sweat cakes my forehead, my vision narrows; every cell in my body unites under one common goal: they cannot know.
Okay, that’s a bit hyperbolic.* But I do think there’s something deeper at play here. It’s the cosmic fear of the people around you realizing that you’re not like them. The fear of rejection, of being unacceptable to mainstream society in some form, of associating with “cringe”—i.e. that which is authentic in a way that makes other people uncomfortable. Of gripping your heart so tight in your hand that no one can hurt it, that no one can hold or even touch it themself. You’ll squeeze it to death like that. It’s the same reason you think of and laugh at stupid jokes in your head but never say them out loud, and possibly even what causes your mind to sour on a crudely-made drawing once you finish it and gaze upon it in its entirety. It’s what causes you to bury your feelings in humor, in irony, to feel the need to apologize for any authentic expression as a temporary lapse in judgement. It’s that whisper in the back of your mind that tells you that genuine human connection, if possible, is difficult, painful, and generally not something you’re cut out for.
And where does Vylet Pony fit into this? Well, Vylet Pony is cringe. Massively, undeniably so. Like, cringe is her thing. There is no way to bring her up without it being immediately apparent that she’s cringe. (I’m cringing at just how much I’ve typed the word cringe. I have a passionate distaste for the term, or at least the levers of social stigmata that it renders in an easily flingable form.)
This is to say that Vylet Pony is a musician/composer/singer-songwriter/etc. who makes music connected to the 2010 (through 2019?! Whoa…) animated television series My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, though the exact nature of this connection has shifted over time. She’s been releasing music publicly since the very end of 2012, though it’s admittedly unlikely you would’ve heard of her that far back unless you were an active member of the My Little Pony fandom (which I, perhaps needless to say, was not). It wasn’t until the release of CUTIEMARKS (And The Things That Bind Us) in 2021, or more accurately the release of the track “ANTONYMPH” and its explosion of popularity online, that drew the attention of a wider audience. Here’s a little roadmap of Vylet Pony’s albums then and since:
“Sing a Song About Life”
(Favorite track: “I DON’T NEED TO BE FIXED”)
As previously mentioned, this was the album that seems to have really turned heads from outside the pony scene for the first time. If you’ve heard any Vylet Pony song, it’s probably “ANTONYMPH”, which became an anthem celebrating internet culture and has also been featured on SiIvaGunner
multiple times (my first Vylet Pony exposure, now that I think about it). Unlike most other Vylet Pony albums, this one doesn’t exactly follow a narrative structure, instead being in part a series of drastic reimaginings of My Little Pony characters and in part autobiographical, though it’s not always easy to tell which tracks are which. At its core, it seems to me that it’s a celebration of what the series and fandom mean to the artist, put most poignantly near the album’s end. There’s a wide variety of styles here, with songs like “LESBIAN PONIES WITH WEAPONS”, “PROTAGONIST SYNDROME”, and “37.6486° N, 122.4296° W (SEABOUND)” quite likely capable of causing whiplash if listened to back-to-back. But oddly enough, the album as a whole manages to feel cohesive despite all these contrasting styles, and maybe even in part because of them. I can see why this album drew attention. It’s also true, however, that some of the more poetic lyricism I appreciate from later albums is not entirely here yet… there is some heavy subject matter tackled without a particular abundance of lyrical grace — perhaps the bluntness of a song like “ISOMETRICA” is the point, but I find myself wincing a little when I reach it every time. This album is a foundational Vylet Pony touchstone, but still leaves much room to grow, to become more refined and polished.
“For the Love of Music”
(Favorite track: “the yak song”)
This is the album that really trapped me. I fell head over heels for can opener’s notebook, and maybe wouldn’t be here writing this if not for it. I got hooked by fishpop. I guess it’s only natural. This album is technically narrative, though said narrative is not particularly clear from solely listening. What is clear, however, is the themes underlying it — can opener’s notebook comes as a response of sorts to CUTIEMARKS’ reception, as it was Vylet Pony’s first album to ever really be thrust into the popular mechanisms of music criticism. The title alone of the album’s opener, “you’re not a real musician”, maybe gives you an idea of where it goes. It’s about following your passions and making art for the sake of making art, of knowing yourself and expressing that creatively. It’s optimistic at its core. There is a very distinct sound to this album (the aforementioned “fishpop”) that I can only describe as nautical. The roundness of its signature synths are immaculate, and the textures of the strings in later tracks send me somewhere else. Texture is truly the name of the game here — can opener’s notebook is a masterclass in this regard, whether it’s the clicking percussion of “typewriter” or the way the electric guitar enters in “fish whisperer” or the perfectly positioned morse code throughout. The overall mixing is incredible too, as it continues to be, which is not something you really hear people point out about music often because when it’s done well you don’t notice it. But I guess I’m the type of person to lie awake in bed at night listening to Vylet Pony thinking to myself, “God, how do I get my bass to sound that clean?” I could speak about how much I love this album for a long time, but in summary I will just say that if I had to pick a favorite album of all time… currently, it would be this one.
“Around Again and Again”
(Favorite track: “Carousel”)
Carousel takes you on a journey, more so than any other Vylet Pony album in my opinion. Progressing from soft optimism to a certain angst, when the album’s end comes around, there’s a mood shift that washes over you and allows you to breathe a great sigh of relief — there’s an arc of tension in the album that’s executed wonderfully, with the final three tracks hitting such an indescribable emotion. Narratively, the album follows its protagonist as she meets her own shadow, realizes said shadow doesn’t like her very much, and then in the end the two manage to reconcile. Carousel comes with a booklet that explains its story in greater detail, though I think the heart of it is understandable if you’re willing to sit with it and think for a moment — it’s about the parts of ourselves that we cast aside into the shadows, and whether that’s the treatment those parts really deserve. Reading the booklet recently for the first time was a surreal experience though, as it mirrored in certain key ways a dream I had a year before ever listening to Carousel. Part of my deep love for this album comes from a connection to it I can’t fully explain (…or maybe just don’t want to right here and now). It took me longer to warm up to this one, but it now serves as steep competition against can opener’s notebook as my favorite.
“In the Absence of Comfort”
(Favorite track: “✝”)
Paradise Valley is described as a “mixtape about homesickness, processing trauma, reflecting on life after changing as a person, and choosing how to remember your own past”. It’s a shorter album than her others, and has no emotional arc vis-à-vis a narrative arc, because there simply is no underpinning narrative. It’s more about conveying a particular atmosphere, and in a certain sense, you could say that makes it more of a “normal” album. This one didn’t grab me much at first — its narrower stylistic and dynamic range didn’t capture my attention as hard as its two predecessors — but I’ve come to appreciate it more with time. I won’t get specific, but it was when I was deeply contemplating the continued manifestation of a home that was far away that I found myself finally gravitating towards Paradise Valley, and approached from the right angle, when you take the time to actually listen (not just in the passive, not-really-paying-attention sense), it can manage to be quite moving, especially ending with “Brother, Are You Proud of Me?” The lyricism throughout, the rhythmic flow of it, is generally excellent… once you can actually parse what she’s saying. Best for when you’re feeling a melancholic not-quite-nostalgia.
“You Know How We Do It”
(Favorite track: “Girls Who Are Wizards”)
The long-awaited Vylet Pony EDM album is… maybe not entirely my thing. My tolerance for wobble bass (or wubz, I suppose) doesn’t admittedly extend super far. The good news is that Girls Who Are Wizards isn’t an hour of just bass solos or anything — there’s always something else interesting going on; it never feels stale or same-y. It’s clearly a fun album, for both composer and listener, with a bunch of silly samples and surprising amount of references to the world of video game music in the sound design (I have a neuron fire from those Roland pizzicato strings in “telephone” (from can opener’s notebook) every single time, but Girls Who Are Wizards is a lot more consistent with this stuff). I find that I enjoy the second half of this album much more than the first as a matter of personal taste, and “In the Name of Friendship” is the perfect ending track, as it suddenly hits you that this silly, meme-y EDM album is actually making you feel something — could it be that it was never ironic to begin with? Sublime reuse of the “ANTONYMPH” motif.
“To Be Gentle, To Be Kind”
(Favorite track: “Survivor’s Guilt”)
Though I’d heard some Vylet Pony tracks here and there over the past year or two, it was Monarch of Monsters that was really my pony gateway drug, all because I suffer from an affliction in which I see something pop up on my recommended page, go “oh now this looks weird”, and proceed to click on it. Though on second thought, this may not be such a bad quality to have. Monarch of Monsters, put simply, is wild. Hands down the craziest album I’ve ever listened to. You go from “okay, I’m picking up what you’re putting down” into a steep nosedive of “WHATWHATWHATWHATWHAT” to finally come out the other end with the standard Vylet Pony ending message of “life is beautiful and you must keep living it”. This is a heavy album, and the content warning/parental advisory is certainly deserved. You hit “Princess Cuckoo” for the first time and think to yourself, “Oh. That’s not something I realized music could do,” in the most uncomfortable manner possible. It’s insane. It’s awesome. It’s occasionally horrifying. It’s a very well-executed art piece about cycles of toxicity, released with an art book and a novella and everything to really hammer its narrative home. I don’t think it would be possible to listen through it all and not feel anything. Monarch of Monsters contains some of my favorite of Vylet Pony’s songwriting, a series of knockout punches, though I can see its heavier nature and descent into madness midway through as factors that disincentivize casual listening. If you’re listening to Monarch, you’re listening to Monarch. It’s worth noting that the album and its supplemental materials are free to download via Vylet Pony’s website — I’d personally try to purchase it on Bandcamp if possible (it’s also easily streamable online), but hey, she’s put it up there for a reason. It’s easy to check out, and maybe will be your gateway drug, too.
“It’s All About the Game”
(Favorite track: “Walking Beside a Dragonfly”)
Vylet Pony’s latest album, Love & Ponystep takes the audience gained from Monarch of Monsters and thrusts them headfirst into the quote-unquote twee internet crap that has characterized some of her previous work (*cough cough* “ANTONYMPH”) — the video for “My Love is a Quickscope”, the first single released to tease the album, cranks this up to an almost absurd degree. Broken up into four chapters prefaced by brief narrations, Love & Ponystep both articulates its core message more explicitly within the music’s bounds and hits a more personal emotive note than other albums — you are, to a much greater degree, in the protagonist’s head. A breakup story, though perhaps more importantly one about personal growth and finding who you are, the tracklist drags you all around, in both a stylistic and emotional sense. Listening to “Dual Headed Hydranoid” near the album’s start, I would never have predicted the existence of something like “Walking Besides a Dragonfly” later down the line (until I got there). But then again, of course, nothing is obvious without having already walked these roads.
If one thing is made clear by that massive aside, it’s probably that I really do care about this music. This article was originally intended to be a simple set of album reviews, but it quickly transformed into more once I started to think about why I cared so much. I hold Vylet Pony’s work as some of the most genuinely meaningful music I’ve had the joy of listening to, and I do not know how to even begin jumping over the hurdles of explaining this to my peers. Vylet Pony’s music stands for something, and as proof of my humanity, I want to too.
I find that I am going through a period of reconnection with my values in life. It is more important to be gentle and to be kind than it is to be smarter, funnier, or more competent at any given skill than other people—it’s the times when those desires to be perceived as somehow superior have clouded my judgement that I have most commonly acted in ways I regret. At the same time, I’m realizing just how much my life has been dominated by fear, and how strictly I’ve resided inside a box that provides safety at the cost of isolation. Vylet Pony resides, definitively, outside of this box, and has through interaction taught me of its walls.
There was a certain conflict getting into this music at first, partly from the fact that there were ponies on the cover and even more from my ignorance of its depth—just how many layers deep in My Little Pony fanfiction was I, something I had been conditioned to avoid association with at all costs? I rationalized the music itself and the “pony stuff” as separate, because for the sake of my self-image, it was acceptable for me to like one but not the other. It took time before I finally hit a watershed where I realized that, actually, there’s literally nothing wrong with liking pony music. There can be no harm in innocently loving a piece of art. The “pony” and the “music” walk hand-in-hand—the medium is part of the message, and you will only fully absorb it and reach peace if you cast aside embarrassment of both halves. Vylet Pony’s music has, with time, prompted an unravelling and re-examination of beliefs I held about art, about myself, and even about society as a whole. And I find that I’ve come out the other end a more compassionate and understanding person.
It’s just music. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? For me, it’s also been about unlearning shame. It’s been about telling my childhood self that she doesn’t have to hide anymore, that she never really did. (The fact that it’s My Little Pony-related in particular triggered, I now recognize, childhood defense mechanisms I hadn’t thought about in at least a decade. These things always come back around at some point, don’t they?) It will probably be a long time before I can confidently and comfortably answer the question of “so what sort of music do you listen to?” fully and truthfully—the same goes for questions about my interests, hobbies, hopes, dreams, etc. that I’ve been taught to avoid. But I am finally trying to at least embark down that path, even if I don’t know when I’ll reach its end destination.
Breaking out of the box is not easy, is certainly not painless, but it is necessary. That whisper is right that genuine human connection is difficult, but you must pursue it, in order to live rather than survive. You cannot do this unless you present yourself to others as you are—unreformed, vulnerable. In doing so, you open yourself up to attack, yes, but also to so much more. The only way for someone to grasp your hand is first for you to hold it out.
Yes, my favorite music is My Little Pony fanart. What about yours?