As I scrolled through nominations for the Dallas Entertainment Awards, whose third annual ceremony takes place Feb. 4 at the Bomb Factory, one name kept coming up: Remy Reilly. The sultry-voiced singer-songwriter has been a fixture in the local music scene for about a decade, which is quite an accomplishment, given that she’s only 22. Buoyed by her recent song “Ricochet,” an effervescent dance jam about a love gone flat, she landed five nominations, including artist of the year, best pop vocalist and best songwriter, a category where she’s nominated alongside her “Ricochet” producer/songwriting partner, Josh Goode.
“I’ve never been nominated for that many things in my life,” she said. (She won best pop vocalist and best Americana act last year.)
Reilly grew up around music. Her dad was a regional promoter for Disney’s Hollywood Records, and by 12, she was playing open mics while kids in her Little Elm neighborhood headed to football games or school dances. She put out a self-titled EP when she was 14 and still in clear braces, and the songs had enough punch to earn her the 2018 Dallas Observer Music Award for best new act. A talented multi-instrumentalist who can play piano, guitar and drums, there is one skill she does not have.
“I’m the worst at parallel parking,” she texted me on the afternoon we met at Merit Coffee Co. in Deep Ellum, when she was slightly delayed by searching for a spot on the street. In person, Reilly is warm and self-deprecating and speaks with girlish enthusiasm about creative influences as disparate as ’80s band The Cure and British singer-songwriter Olivia Dean and animated children’s show My Little Pony, whose character Rainbow Dash inspired the multicolored logo she uses on her merch. “No one knows that,” she said. “I was too afraid to be a nerd about it.”
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“Deep Ellum feels like a family,” says North Texas singer Remy Reilly.
Playful with her sound, which veers between Americana and pop, she likes to change up her hair, too. “I just got this done,” she said, pulling back the dyed burgundy locks near her face to reveal a layer of dyed orange underneath.
She plans to spend most of 2026 working on her first full-length album. “As a kid, I didn’t really know what I was doing,” she said. “So this is exciting. I feel like this new album is gonna be me.”
Your first live performance was at 12. What do you remember about it?
It was part of a Christmas show for my vocal studio, which took place in a plaza near a Starbucks. I sang “Love Is Christmas” by Sara Bareilles to an accompaniment track. I was super stiff! Like a popsicle stick. And I wouldn’t look at anybody. But as soon as I was done, I went up to my mom and said, I can’t wait to gig again.
I loved the adrenaline rush. That was around the time my dad bought me a cajón [box drum], and music started to click for me. My dad took me to open mics in Dallas, Frisco, Denton. We were going three or four times a week. I used to do “Stuck in the Middle With You” by Stealers Wheel with a cowbell and my cajón. At the end, I would hit the cowbell and drop the stick. I developed this whole bit. Looking back now, it’s pretty cringy.
The last several years of your life have unfolded onstage. Are there other parts that make you cringe?
All the time! Even now. I’ll get really animated onstage and say something stupid, but every time I come offstage, someone tells me it’s endearing, that they appreciate the authenticity, or they like that I’m a dork. I’ve been called a dork so many times.
I think people relate to it, because it comes from anxiety. I have a panic disorder. So my way of coping is being super energetic with people, very much the clown. I know when to tone it down and be professional, but I feel like the part of me that’s goofy and loud is always going to be there.
Which feels better: a good relationship or writing a good breakup song?
I don’t know what a good relationship is like, so I’ll pick the breakup song. I haven’t had a boyfriend in three years — for good reasons. I always tell men when I date them, I just want you to know you’re probably not the priority right now. Every time I say that, I think maybe I shouldn’t be dating. It’s like, oh, I got a gig. Sorry, gotta go. I really want to make better decisions with men, so I’m working toward healthier relationships, but I haven’t experienced them. That’s why all I write about is breakups.
Remy Reilly performs at TX Tea Room during the Deep Ellum Block Party in Dallas, Texas, on Nov. 22, 2025.
Jason Janik / Special Contributor
What represents Dallas at its best to you?
Deep Ellum. It’s such a big connector, with music venues and art studios and photography studios and shops. I love when you’re at a show, and there’s all this nightlife around you, and you look up and see the whole downtown skyline. It feels like: This is Dallas.
I think I’ve played almost every venue in Deep Ellum. I’m very proud that I can walk into these bars, and I know the owners. Deep Ellum feels like a family.
Tex-Mex or BBQ, and where?
Tex-Mex! People may be mad at me for this answer, because this is a chain, but I’m always at Chuy’s. That jalapeno ranch dip? I could drink it. I get the deluxe chicken enchiladas, and I literally pour the jalapeno ranch on my rice and beans. I’m like, can I get another bowl of jalapeno ranch? I need two.
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