We recently connected with GG Tyler and have shared our conversation below.

Hi GG, thanks for joining us today. When did you first know you wanted to pursue a creative/artistic path professionally?

There has never been a time in my life when I wasn’t obsessed with music. My very first memory is filled with it—sitting in the car with my dad, singing my heart out to “Hollaback Girl.” Before I could even read or write, I would come up with songs in my head and get so frustrated that I didn’t know how to write them down. I would sing my melodies and scribble nonsense letters into notebooks, wishing I could get the song out of my head and into the tangible world.
When I was five years old, I asked Santa for a pink guitar for Christmas and he delivered! Admittedly, I was awful at guitar for years, but I found something so thrilling in the challenge of doing something I wasn’t good at yet. There’s a sort of high you feel when you find yourself routinely accomplishing more than you did the day before, and that kept me motivated to keep playing.

My freshman year of high school, on a random night, a buddy took me to see some local bands and it changed my life. I know that sounds dramatic, but there’s really no other way to put it. I became completely and utterly obsessed with my local scene. I made an effort to get to know every band I loved, formed incredible friendships, and maybe even got a concussion or two stage diving along the way. Before that night, music was something I mostly did alone in my bedroom—not because I was shy, but because I didn’t yet understand what made music truly magical: sharing it with other people. Going to those shows and meeting all those people opened my eyes. It made me realize that this—being part of a music community—was something I wanted to do for the rest of my life. Being a part of my local scene as a fan was deeply profound for me, but I grew desperate to know what it was like to be the one on stage. So, I kept playing and eventually made the leap to move to Colorado and study music in college.

It was in college that I switched to bass as my main instrument, and that choice made everything else in my career snap into place. At first, I thought learning a new instrument in an environment where many of my peers already had a decade of experience under their belts would be intimidating but it turned out to be quite the opposite. Once again, I fell in love with the challenge, this time even more deeply than before. I got involved with multiple bands and in those groups I got to develop my skills as a performer, which quickly became my favorite part of being a musician. Now I perform almost every weekend and I couldn’t imagine my life any other way.

Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.

I am a 22 year old college student from San Diego, California, in the last semester of my audio production degree at the University of Colorado, Denver. I play bass in several Denver-based bands, including Blackberry Crush and Brother Dog, and have collaborated with local artists like Skye Morriseau and Mae Hunniford—lead singer of the popular band Tireshoe.

You could say I’m in this line of work for the love of the game. I’ve always been a creative person, drawn to all kinds of artistic pursuits. I love painting, drawing, and fashion, and more recently, I’ve been getting into concert photography and digital design. I really strive to be a lifelong learner, always picking up new skills and practices. Lately, I’ve been noticing how much my creative interests are starting to overlap. I think that knowing how I like to look on stage as a performer informs my choices when I’m taking photos for other bands and my experience with visual arts shine through when it comes to creating album artwork or doing stage makeup. All these disciplines feed into each other, and I love seeing how they come together to better my work as a musician.

Can you share a story from your journey that illustrates your resilience?

When I first started my degree in audio production, I quickly realized that I would be spending most of my college experience as the only woman in the room. Less than 5% of audio professionals are women, and that statistic was clearly reflected in my classes. I remember walking into my very first audio production class, where I was one of only three women. The men in the room were loudly tossing around technical jargon, trying to show off what they knew—or at least, what it sounded like they knew. I felt totally lost. I didn’t understand most of the terminology, and worse, I started to feel like I didn’t belong there. It was the first time I really questioned whether I was cut out for this field.

But instead of letting that feeling deter me, I used it as fuel. Very early on, I was lucky to meet a few like-minded women in my program who were having similar experiences. Together, we co-founded a student organization for other women studying audio. We built it to be the kind of space we needed: one where people could ask questions without fear, where learning was hands-on and collaborative, not competitive, and where we could gain confidence in our skills outside of the sometimes intimidating classroom setting.

Imposter syndrome was a big obstacle for us when we were first starting out. It’s easy to feel like you don’t belong in an industry where you rarely see people like yourself. But we have to remember, we deserve to be here just as much as anyone else. That’s why it’s so important not to shrink ourselves down. We can’t be afraid to speak up or take up space. A lot of imposter syndrome, I’ve found, comes from a fear of failure. But I’ve learned that I can’t let that fear stop me from trying. There are already plenty of challenges to face in this field—I don’t need to create more for myself. The reality is, everybody starts somewhere. We’re all learning, and making mistakes is an essential part of that process. You’re not supposed to come in already knowing everything about everything. For me, failure has become one of the most valuable parts of my journey. If I don’t mess up, I don’t get the feedback I need to improve. And if I don’t put myself out there, if I don’t risk failure, I’m also closing myself off to the opportunity for growth. If you really want to get good at something, opening yourself up to rejection and critique is one of the most important things you can do.

Being a part of this organization and community of women has given me the confidence to fail and try again and again. I am constantly so inspired by the women around me and how they uplift everyone in our community. I feel like our drive and determination rub off on one another, and we push each other to keep growing, improving, and learning together. That mutual support has been the backbone of my journey as a woman in music.

What do you find most rewarding about being a creative?

Being part of the music community is so deeply rewarding. It’s the little moments, like the late-night jam sessions in someone’s living room or impromptu collaborations in the studio, that make this career feel so special. This line of work is built on connection and much like any other form of joy, music is better when it’s shared.

But it’s not just about community. It’s also incredibly fulfilling to work really hard at something and finally see the improvement within yourself. For me, putting effort into my instrument is putting effort into myself—it’s my version of self-care. There’s nothing quite like the feeling of struggling with a skill for weeks, thinking you’re getting nowhere, and then finally nailing it. That moment is so rewarding because you worked hard for yourself, because you know that you earned it.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: @g.g.tyler

Image Credits

Zach Timberlake