Artist Glimpse: Hayden Ryann
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Toronto singer-songwriter Hayden Ryann cuts through the noise by writing pure truth. Blending high-octane country-rock with intimate acoustic storytelling, she has become a compelling new voice in Ontario. From childhood poetry notebooks to raw tracks like "Burning Rubber" and “Walk Through Fire”, her music is an open invitation to the listener. Today, we step past the production and look directly into her heart.
ROB AGUIAR - You carried a lyric notebook at age eight to process your world. Looking at raw, reflective tracks like "Mindless Words" today, how much does that intuitive kid still guide your pen?
HAYDEN RYANN - Honestly, I think that kid is still guiding almost everything I write. The biggest difference is that the notebook has turned into notes on my phone and voice memos, but the reason I write hasn't really changed. Even when I was eight years old, I used songwriting as a way to make sense of things I was feeling or observing, and that's still at the heart of my process today.
Songs like Mindless Words are a good example of that because they're very raw and reflective. When I sit down to write, I'm usually not thinking about trends or what people want to hear—I'm trying to understand something, process an emotion, or capture a moment honestly. That's exactly what I was doing as a kid, just with a lot less life experience.
I think as I've grown, my writing has become more refined, but the instinct behind it is still the same. That notebook-carrying kid was curious, observant, and constantly trying to put feelings into words, and I still approach songwriting in much the same way. If anything, I've learned to trust that instinct more as I've gotten older.
RA: Your music balances the defiance of "No Room for Bitchin'" with quiet reflection. Is it harder to be vulnerable in a high-energy anthem or a stripped-down ballad?
HR: I think vulnerability shows up in both, just in different ways. A stripped-down ballad is vulnerable in the obvious sense because there's nowhere to hide. Every lyric, every emotion, and every crack in your voice is exposed. You're asking people to sit with you in a very intimate moment.
What I've learned, though, is that high-energy, empowering songs can be just as vulnerable. Songs like No Room for Bitchin' might sound confident and defiant on the surface, but they're still rooted in real experiences, frustrations, and emotions. Sometimes it takes just as much courage to stand behind a bold statement about your boundaries and self-worth as it does to admit you're hurting.
RA: "Burning Rubber" captures a sudden, reckless rush of attraction. When a narrative spark hits you that fast, do the melody and lyrics rush out together, or do you build the acoustic skeleton first?
HR: For "Burning Rubber," I actually started with the idea and message first. I already had the concept of what I wanted to say and could hear the first verse and chorus in my head before picking up my guitar.
From there, I sang it out loud, finding chords that naturally matched the phrasing and emotion of the lyrics. It was an instinctive, unstructured process—like chasing what I heard in my head and trying to catch up to it musically. Once I locked in that initial foundation, everything spilled out quickly in a flow state where the melody, lyrics, and structure all formed at once. It felt less like building a song piece by piece and more like letting it unfold naturally.
RA: You’ve cited Taylor Swift, Dolly Parton, and Fleetwood Mac as major influences. What is the biggest lesson you’ve learned from them about making a deeply specific, personal story feel universal?
HR: The biggest lesson I’ve taken from artists like Taylor Swift, Dolly Parton, and Fleetwood Mac is that the more specific you are, the more universal the song becomes. They don’t write in broad, general ideas—they write in details, moments, and emotions that feel lived in. It’s those small, personal snapshots that end up resonating with the most people.
I’ve learned that when you try to make something universally relatable from the start, it can actually lose its impact. But when you write honestly from your own experience—no matter how specific or personal it is—people find their own story inside it. That’s the magic of their songwriting.
RA: With an EP on the horizon, what new pieces of your heart or musical styles are you most excited to explore next?
HR: Right now, the songs I’m writing reflect a deeper level of self-awareness and confidence. I’m still very rooted in country storytelling and honest lyricism, but I’m exploring dynamic production choices and bolder emotional contrasts. It’s exciting to push my sound slightly outside my comfort zone while staying true to what makes my music feel like me.
Personally, I’m leaning into themes of self-worth, independence, and growth—not just from heartbreak, but from a broader understanding of who I’m becoming. I’m so excited for listeners to hear this next chapter. It has the same honesty I’ve always written with, but with a new sense of confidence and intention that represents exactly where I’m at.
RA: Your work stands out for its fierce authenticity. How does your latest single "Walk Through Fire" capture that next level of confidence, and what does it reveal about the map you are drawing next?
HR: I feel like this track has allowed my sense of identity to grow. It’s given me a space where I don’t have to apologize for knowing my self-worth or standing confidently in who I am. That can sometimes be difficult to express without it coming across as aggressive, but I think there’s so much power in owning your confidence.
Something that’s always been really important to me in my career is empowerment. I want people to feel confident in their vulnerability and know that they can embrace every part of who they are. I think “Walk Through Fire” is another step forward in that journey, and it really reflects the woman and artist I’m continuing to become.
Follow Hayden’s journey on Instagram @haydenryannmusic and stream her music on all major platforms.
