What six years with the wrong person does to an artist.
At 23, Clay Winters—also known as hateclay—has transformed heartbreak into art. In 2025, his latest album, Repeat, chronicles six years of love, loss, and emotional aftermath, blending self-produced tracks with collaborations. Most of it, however, was written and recorded alone in his bedroom with just a mic, guitar, and computer.
“This album is my story,” Clay says. “I’m just a normal guy who got his heart broken, picked up my guitar, and tried to make sense of everything.”
The inspiration behind Repeat comes from a high-school love he thought would last forever. Songs like “Again” were intended as love letters, but the relationship ended before he could finish them. For months, he couldn’t make music at all. Then came “Six Years,” written in a single night, flowing naturally yet painfully as he relived every memory.
Clay’s dual identity captures the spectrum of his emotions. “Clay Winters is my alter ego,” he explains. “It’s the thoughts I don’t know how to tell anyone. Music lets me do that.”
Influenced by EDEN, The Kid Laroi, and heylog, Clay blends melodic rap, hip-hop, and indie experimentation in Repeat. While past projects like Regret and Reflections leaned into hyperpop, emo, and alternative styles, this album fuses those elements into the most emotional music of his life. Each track carries the intimacy of a personal diary, from quiet, guitar-driven moments to heavy 808s and distortion.
The creative process was also a journey of survival. After the breakup, Clay struggled with depression and eating disorders, withdrawing from the world. Over the next year, he rebuilt himself through music, friends, and routine—turning pain into productivity, and ultimately, into Repeat.
The album’s imagery reflects its themes: three birds flying across the cover symbolize freedom, escape, while always flying back home to repeat. Lyrically, it balances longing and hope, with lines like, “When the final sun comes setting down, will you hold my hand as we watch the stars come out,” capturing vulnerability in its purest form.
For Clay, the album isn’t just personal—it’s a shared experience. “I know I’m not the only one who’s been through heartbreak,” he says. “If someone listens to one of these songs and feels like they’re dying, maybe it’ll remind them—it does, and it will get better.”
With Repeat, Clay stakes his claim in the music scene—not as a polished pop star, but as a relatable, self-produced voice from the Midwest, quietly turning his bedroom into a sanctuary of emotion. Fans can explore his music and updates via his Linktree.
