The Racing Pulses “Subtle Hurts”

From the outside looking in, the life of a professional musician can seem like one spent in the lap of luxury—performing for crowds of adoring fans, pouring their hearts into timeless anthems, and turning lifelong passion into a fruitful career. It’s easy to assume creatives have it easy. But the reality is far different. Many never come close to enjoying the spoils of fame and fortune, instead finding themselves caught in an exhausting cycle of constraints, setbacks, and scams. Achieving true artistic expression can feel nearly impossible when the industry demands so much and gives back so little.

With the help of Grammy-nominated mastering engineer Brian Lucey (The Black Keys, Juanes, Lizzo), “Subtle Hurts” swaggers with a quiet, spiteful venom—straight from someone who’s lived it. Over a fuzzed-out bassline, wailing metallic guitar riffs, and booming tom drums, Iliev doesn’t hold back: these “Subtle Hurts” sting. Taking hit after hit exacts a heavy toll, wearing down not just the creative spirit but the soul—the person inside who struggles every day to stay authentic, fighting off creeping feelings of disillusionment. “I feel the weight, like many artists do, of expectation in the music industry and of the need to make money, to be entertaining, to fulfill the expectations that I have and that others have of me,” says Kristian. “The question is: How do we manage or cope with them?”

In the very first shot, the camera suddenly snaps into focus, revealing a striking abstract painting—a flurry of sweeping brush strokes, vivid colors, figurative motifs—the handiwork of local artist Chase Bisson. It’s the first taste of the off-kilter atmosphere brought to life in collaboration with Madison filmmaker Claudia Krogmeier, a specialist in experimental visual storytelling, whose open-ended narratives steeped in metaphor and surrealism prove the perfect partner to expand the scope of the “Subtle Hurts” music video.

Wielding his eye-catching Eastwood Moonsault, Iliev and his bandmates perform with suave nonchalance, as if playing together is the most natural thing in the world. It’s not until they shovel forkfuls of cake into their mouths that things start to go haywire. In an instant, everything unravels—transforming something as precious as creative expression into a mess of sickly sweet desolation. As the band plays out this uniquely unsettling metaphor, it becomes clear that for The Racing Pulses, music videos and avant-garde art can be the same—two mediums working in tandem to illuminate not just the struggles of the devoted creative, but also the “destructive politics our world endures,” as Petrov Iliev puts it. “As both an artist and an intellectual, I know and feel a duty to fight evil, educate others, and draw attention to the answers I believe could be most beneficial,” he says. And that’s exactly what “Subtle Hurts” is—a bold confrontation of the cost of creation, and the courage it takes to keep playing anyway.