It started the way all divine things do: with timing. The final episode of the final season of Rap Sh!t, Issa Rae’s genre-pushing love letter to friendship and female hustle, was winding down. ANLIL curled up in her living room, vulnerable in the way we get when the credits of a great series start to roll-was soaking in the last scene. The camera moved slowly through a patchwork of characters, the storylines folding in on themselves like origami, and then it happened. That song came on.
A smoky beat. An unapologetic voice.
“Scam Bitch” by Buccalini.
Everything else faded. The walls, the couch, the show.
“I wanna meet him so bad, he’s so talented,” she said, half out loud, half in awe.
Her manager and partner-in-music-mischief, G, looked up. “Why don’t you cover it?”
And just like that, the seed was planted.
The cover dropped days later ANLIL in a vintage Bulls jersey, big rockstar energy, her voice rising and falling like waves against a neon city skyline. It was raw, it was fire, it was her. She sang it like she meant it—like she’d lived it. Buccalini saw it, reposted it, commented. Connection: made.
A few FaceTimes followed. A few “Wait, you too?” moments. Stars, astrology, rose metaphors—shared language between two souls with inked hearts. It wasn’t just a musical link; it was a friendship coded in cosmic dust. They were already orbiting the same ideas. The same sky.
While crafting her upcoming project Celestial, ANLIL found herself deep in the production rabbit hole. One night, somewhere between a moonlit breakdown and a caffeine high, she built a beat that hit different. Faster than her usual. Still gritty, but with a hypnotic pull-dark R&B met Middle Eastern guitar riffs that shimmered like mirages in motion.
She heard it and knew: “This one needs a feature.”
The song was still nameless when she texted Buccalini the demo:
“Just vibes rn. Curious what u think.”
He replied instantly. ANLIL had asked, “Do you want to hop on one of these?” and without hesitation, he chose Sun and Moon.
Sun and Moon was born out of curiosity, kinship, and that kind of musical trust you don’t fake. The song became a conversation between two celestial beings one solar, one lunar—meeting halfway in the atmosphere.
Enter: Jeff Jackson. The only mixing engineer personally repped by Quincy Jones. A sonic sage who’s helped carve soundscapes for Brent Faiyaz, CHIKA, Elley Duhé, and now, ANLIL. He walked into the studio, heard Sun and Moon, and without skipping a beat, she asked:
“I’d love for you to mix this one. I think we can make magic together.”
And now, here we are.
June 13.
Sun and Moon drops. A story of magnetism, duality, roses, rhythm, and timing. The stars aligned the moment a girl watched a show and heard a voice that matched her frequency.
Sometimes, the universe whispers. Other times, it screams in 808s.
And when it does, ANLIL listens.
