Fearlessly distinct in both sound and vision, Ledbyher has carved her own route to the forefront of the UK underground’s push toward global recognition.

When it came to naming her new mixtape, 22-year-old Rachel Aisyah Diack was guided by serendipitous circumstances. “There’s so many reasons!” the rapper, producer and visual director, known primarily by her moniker Ledbyher, exclaims about her decision. A log fire crackles behind her, as we hide from early January’s sub-freezing temperatures in the cosy Yurt Cafe in Limehouse (her choice) for a catch up. 

Shared on February 13th via Island Records, which she signed to last year, the project has been coined “The Elephant”. The majestic, matriarchal creature has been a spiritual, ubiquitous presence in Rach’s life since she was an infant. She spent her early years in Indonesia, her mother’s native country, where the animal would roam freely. She got a giant elephant tattoo on her leg in Thailand. And fast forward to last year, when she had to find a new place to live, having dropped out of studying film at university to focus full-time on music, there was only one area where she could find suitable dwellings: Elephant and Castle. Her specific street, in fact, is where a 19th-century all-female syndicate gang called the Forty Elephants “would go around, sometimes dress like boys, dress like men, and rob people,” she laughs. 

The lore fits her script; Rach doesn’t tend to live by the rules. An enigmatic emblem of the UK underground’s rise to prominence, she carries an air of gentle mysticism, eclectically influenced by all that surrounds her. She heralds everything from William Shakespeare to David Lynch, metal band Slipknot to drill collective Harlem Spartans, as influences. Her artistic pseudonym is a phrase she plucked from the opening lines of “The Prelude”, a poem by Romantic era renegade, William Wordsworth.

As a musician, she is idiosyncratic and immersive, her self-proclaimed “bedroom drill” both inherently British and stylistically elusive, whilst threading together jerk rhythms, R&B atmosphere, and murky SoundCloud rap. As a character, she’s fiercely ambitious and boldly uncompromising, perhaps best encapsulated by putting pen to paper on her Island Records deal last year – but only when the conditions suited her. “I was going to sign early last year, but I ended up signing mid-to-end last year,” she explains. “I kept saying no because they wouldn’t put Rens [Mijnhardt, her close friend and often collaborator] in as my creative director. Because if he wasn’t in, I wouldn’t take any deal.” She’s got a good lawyer too. “I love him,” she says. 

Rach may have barely kicked off her twenties, but she has had her fill of life experience. Having called an army base in Germany (her father was a Scottish RAF pilot) and the Indonesian jungle ‘home’ by the age of six, her family settled in a seaside village in Norfolk, a bucolic county in western England, where she was based until moving to London a few years ago. She remembers fragments of memories: her first friend, Hazal, whose father owned a kebab shop, and who was the only other child of mixed heritage in her class. She recalls her older sister – now also an artist, Anjeli – being bullied because of their cultural background. “I remember these two twins, Alex and Elysia, they called her fish lips, and I punched them on the playground, and I got suspended.” She was a loud kid, but not rude loud, just excited. Oh, and she loved stilts. 

Stilts?

Yeah, I loved stilts. I still do love stilts. You give me a pair of stilts, I’m done for the day.

Have you got a personal pair? 

Not at the moment.

Despite her unbridled joy of stilts, growing up wasn’t easy for Rach. She and her sister were carers for her mum. Home life was tough. She was an outsider stuck in small-town obscurity. But she had music – beginning to produce in her teenage years and eventually finding her voice on the mic – and film. The latter gave her a route to London when she was offered an unconditional offer at a London university, largely thanks to the quality of her self-directed and edited music videos. Through selling beats and a stint saving lives as a lifeguard, she took the plunge to move south to the capital.

She began releasing music in 2020, and by the end of 2024 had shared three EPs, “CUNCH”, “achy” (a co-release with her sister), and “FIVE SONNET SESSION”, showing a lyrical potency and artistic vitality that made her stand out in a busy, bustling underground. The potential was there – but 2025 changed everything. 

“I’m a very delusional person,” she giggles. “Sometimes if I think about something so hard, like constantly, it just culminates into actually happening in my life.” She must have been thinking a lot last year; from a Skepta co-sign, several collaborations with major fashion brands, to a feature on “Days In The 3”, the stand-out track on Leicester’s rap champion Sainté’s latest EP. 

“The Elephant” looks set to further ignite a major breakthrough for Rach this year. Bolstered by production from the likes of Mac Wetha (Animé, Lava La Rue) and Slippery (Clavish, OFB), and a vocal contribution from Irish artist Biig Piig, the tape floats through ethereal melody, haunting texture and off-kilter resonance, anchored by Rach’s sometimes sung, other times rapped, vocals. Building from the instinctive sonic medley that she’s been building since she began producing, the 12-track is a perfect introduction to her diverse, distinctive and daring world. 

“Last year I was getting to grips with everything – about why I was making music, who I was making music for, what music I was making, and what the hell is going on,” she says. “This year feels like the time to show one body of work to people. It was such a long process, and there were so many feelings up in the air, and this is the one place where I stuck to one nucleus. This is the record. I just love the way it sounds and feels, and that’s just what I roll with.” 

As the UK underground scene continues upwards in its trajectory, Rachel Aisyah Diack thrives in tandem. With a quality new body of work in “The Elephant” and the promise of “so many features” to follow, could Ledbyher be leading the way in 2026? She’s certainly not going to be following anyone. “You’ve got to be left to your own devices, I think,” she concludes. “You can’t really do that if you’re in the middle of everything.” The scenic route it is then.

Listen to “The Elephant”…

Pre-order Wonderland’s Spring ’26 issue here.

Photography by Grace Pickering

Styling by Rosie Sykes

Words by Ben Tibbits

Hair and Make-up by Anjeli Niara

Videography by David Adams