(Leila Neverland)
Leila Naderi, better known by her evocative stage name Leila Neverland, has been crafting lush, cinematic soundscapes and bending genre lines since 2009.
Leila’s work is as much a journey as it is a performance. Her music fuses classical training with raw emotionality, shaped by life’s twists, losses, and revelations. “I started writing music because I was angry,” she recalls. “I was an angry teenager. My dad was diagnosed with Parkinson’s when I was 12. We moved from Toronto to Texas, and I hated it. Writing became a way to journal, to process.”
That emotional authenticity still echoes in her music. “If someone were to listen to my songs from beginning to now,” she says, “they’d get a pretty real, poetic interpretation of my journey.”
In 2012, Leila mounted a major interdisciplinary project, writing music for an original play built with her community. It was her first big launch, blending theatre, music, and collaboration. These values have continued to define her creative process.
“I do all the writing and arranging, but I love showing up in communities and hiring local artists,” she says. “It brings the economy to that space. I travel with Neil, he drums, and then add others: cello, strings, horns. Whatever the vibe calls for.”
(Leila Neverland)
The pandemic catalyzed another evolution. With live gigs on hold, Leila taught herself how to notate music. “I was classically trained, but I’d never taken the exact notes I was hearing and put them on paper.” After 18 months of workshopping, she emerged with a nine-song live album arranged for an eight-piece band. “It was liberating,” she says. “To take the sounds in my head, write them down, and hear them come alive through other people. That’s wild.”
Releasing that album in 2023 marked a turning point. “I finally had the charts to bring in musicians anywhere. I played Kaslo Jazz Festival. That was an eight-year dream.”
But the road hasn’t been smooth. Injuries, rebranding, and financial hardship have tested her resilience. “During the pandemic, I lost $37,000 in eight days. I was a single mom with two kids, sitting in the backyard with my ukulele wondering, ‘What the f— am I doing?’” Then came a devastating elbow injury on a farm job that left her with nerve damage in her piano hand. “I cried a lot. I thought I’d never play again.”
And just this year, Spotify falsely accused her of streaming fraud and took down her EP, including her song Edge of the World. Two months later, they sent her a plaque celebrating 20,000 streams. “It was ridiculous,” she says, “but it reminded me: I’m not here for hustle culture or algorithms. I’m here for a real connection. I’m here for live music.”
This ethos pulses through her newest endeavour: a forthcoming album recorded at Lightmachine Records in Vancouver, mastered by Grammy-winning legend Harry Weinberg. It’s her first major studio release, due in 2026. In the meantime, Leila’s exploring a hybrid of music, theatre, and visual art through her Dreamscape Cabaret, a monthly experimental performance space for women and avant-garde creators. “I do a ten-minute piece every show, exploring what this album’s live experience will become. It scares the shit out of me, and I love it.”
She’s also directing a 150-person rock choir in Kelowna, thanks to Nick La Riviere of The Paperboys. “I get to arrange one of my own songs for four-part harmony. That’s a dream come true.”
Ultimately, Leila’s ambition is clear: “I want to create live cinema. Big tours with choirs, orchestras, projection art, and soundscapes. All of it. Beautiful, giant pieces of art.”
When asked what music is, Leila reflects: “Music is the translation of the intangible. It starts with silence, and it invites co-creation. It’s how artists pull tendrils from that silent space and bring them into the world.”
(Leila Neverland)
Written by Alana Black | Evolution Media
Contact: ablack23@my.bcit.ca