Inside Internet Tears: Life Offline, Art on Their Terms
The name alone hits like a glitch in your emotions—Internet Tears. The band’s name conjures up thoughts of late-night chat messages, Top 8 drama, and heartbreak set to the tone of a dial-up modem.
But for frontman Daniel Louis, that nostalgia is more than aesthetic—it’s a reflection of the band’s digital DNA. “It kind of fits the vibe and the genre of what the band is,” he tells RØKKR. “I think of someone going onto Facebook and putting out their feelings. The day and age of living on the internet, you know?”
Frontman Daniel Louis delivers an emotionally charged set, fusing alt-pop nostalgia with sharp visual style.
Park City Music Hall, 12/19/24 | Photos by Ryan Reid
Now, the band’s going through a different kind of transition—one offline. Having recently parted ways with Black Barrel Records, the project is shifting back into independent hands. It isn’t about rebellion—it’s about reconnection.
“I think walking away from a label just gives me more of the opportunity to continue in a way that I am able to be more consistent and honest with how I’m doing things,” says Louis. “So, it’s about returning to the machine I built before the label came in.”
The timing feels like a necessary reset. With Internet Tears' members being pulled in different directions—careers, real-life commitments, adulting—the shape of the band is fluid. But that doesn’t mean it’s falling apart, just evolving. When necessary, Louis brings in “fill-ins just to keep the train going—and [the guys] are cool with it and they understand,” whether it’s for releases, performances, or recording.
Louis' reality mirrors a broader truth about today’s music industry: lackluster profits from streaming mean most independent artists must put life first to fund their creative work.
“I work an average job. I’m an average person outside of music. Very Joe Schmo,” Louis admits. While it may sound uninspiring on paper, the reality is anything but. “I’m always expressing myself—whether it’s writing something or filming something.”
Louis edits his own music videos, writes and records his own songs, and builds the band’s aesthetic from scratch. But burnout is real. “I’ve learned I can’t do everything myself,” he admits. “Even though my camera could be four grand, if someone’s messing around with it, it’s going to look like they’re messing around with it... I can’t be the guy that’s behind the camera and in front of it.”
Photo by Ryan Reid
That realization has sparked a new focus: collaboration. Not just within the band, but with trusted creatives who can help carry the vision. “I’ve ended up not satisfied with some of the work,” he says. “So now I’m really trying to find that one or two people I can feel comfortable collaborating more with.”
Despite the challenges, the motivation behind Internet Tears hasn’t changed. “I just like doing it,” Louis says. “I like performing and creating. That’s my main goal.”
A recent example? The unreleased fan favorite “I Want You.” Pulled from streaming after a rework attempt with the label, the song is still alive and well on stage. “The Black Barrel version was just… inferior,” Louis explains. “We all agreed we needed to fix the song. It deserved better.” That new version will eventually surface—but in the meantime, it remains a highlight of the band’s live set. “We’re going to play that tonight, too. Because it’s just a good song.”
When asked what Internet Tears would smell like, Louis doesn’t miss a beat: “A red rose. You can use flowers for happiness and sadness. That smell represents both.”
It’s a fitting metaphor. Internet Tears doesn’t live inside a genre box or a perfect timeline. It blooms where it wants, when it wants, and how it wants—sometimes messy, often emotional, always honest.
