Uèle Lamore

Uèle Lamore, born December 27, 1993, in Paris, is kind of a powerhouse in the world of modern composition. She’s got this wild mix of classical roots and a totally fearless approach to electronic music—it’s like she doesn’t see any lines between genres, just possibilities. If you’ve caught the haunting score of The Apology (2022), you’ll get it. Her music doesn’t just sit in the background; it crawls right under your skin, makes you feel stuff you didn’t even know was in there. Before that, she brought this hypnotic, almost dreamlike quality to Marcher sur l'eau (2021). Not your average documentary soundtrack, honestly. It’s got this pulse, a sense of urgency that mirrors the real-life struggles on screen. Lamore somehow finds a way to blend orchestral swells with electronic textures, and the result is raw, sometimes even a little unsettling—but in a good way, you know? And now, with The Balconettes (2024), she’s proving she’s not just a one-trick pony. Every project feels fresh, but you can always tell it’s her. There’s a signature—maybe it’s her knack for building tension, or how she sneaks in these unexpected twists in the melodies. The point is, she’s not following trends; she’s making her own rules. Paris might be her hometown, but Uèle Lamore’s music feels like it belongs everywhere at once.