Today we’d like to introduce you to Zander Figueroa.
Hi Zander, we’d love for you to start by introducing yourself.
My name is Jacob Alexander Figueroa, though most people know me as Zander. Art has never been something I casually stepped into it’s been the foundation of how I experience the world. From a young age, I was drawing, building, experimenting with sound, exploring color, tone, and texture trying to translate emotion into something tangible. Creativity wasn’t extracurricular for me. It was language. It was survival. It was identity.
Growing up in Minnesota, I immersed myself in both visual and musical disciplines early. I studied violin through MacPhail Center for Music, which trained my ear and discipline, while also teaching myself digital design tools and experimenting with mixed media and performance art. I’ve never seen art as one-dimensional everything overlaps.
I moved to New York City to stretch myself creatively. NYC sharpened me quickly. The pace and intensity forced refinement. It taught me presence and confidence.
After New York, I relocated to Los Angeles and spent six years there. For three of those years, I ran a venue that housed my recording studio. We hosted concerts, live-streamed performances before it was standard, operated a storefront and shop, and built a creative ecosystem where artists could record, perform, and collaborate. I was producing, engineering, managing, marketing building infrastructure around art. That chapter taught me that creativity needs both vision and structure.
Then COVID hit, and everything shifted. I left Los Angeles and moved to Arizona, where I lived off-grid on my ranch for several years. After years of city intensity, I found myself in open desert silence solar power, land, isolation, rebuilding from the ground up. That season stripped everything down to essentials. It deepened my perspective and forced introspection.
After a breakup, something changed creatively. I turned inward and began focusing heavily on music again — but this time differently. I wasn’t just experimenting with sound. I was building a foundation. I started pouring myself into lyrics, storytelling, melody, and harmony. Every line came from lived experience pain, heartbreak, broken promises, betrayal, and the weight of multiple challenges hitting at once. It wasn’t abstract anymore. It was raw.
That’s when Precognition truly took form as my solo project. The name represents intuition sensing something before it fully materializes. For me, the songs came that way. They felt like emotional premonitions reflections on things unfolding in real time.
In 2024, I moved from Arizona back to Minnesota. Reconnecting with friends here became a turning point. I shared my demos with them, unsure how they would land. Their reaction was immediate and genuine. They believed in what I was building. They offered feedback, production insight, and even lent me instruments so I could continue recording and refining the sound.
That support meant everything. It reminded me that even after isolation, rebuilding, and heartbreak, community still exists.
Now I work out of my studio in Minnesota, developing Precognition intentionally. I also collaborate with two close friends who have creative studios of their own. When our schedules align, we work together, refine production, exchange ideas, and push each other creatively. It feels collaborative without compromising the vision Precognition remains my solo project, but I’m not creating in a vacuum.
Getting to where I am today hasn’t been linear. It’s been Minnesota beginnings, New York sharpening, Los Angeles building, Arizona grounding, heartbreak transforming, and returning home with a clearer sense of who I am.
Precognition carries all of it the intensity, the infrastructure, the silence, the pain, and the rebuilding. It’s cinematic, emotionally driven, and deeply personal. And for the first time, it feels fully aligned with who I am as both an artist and a person.
We all face challenges, but looking back would you describe it as a relatively smooth road?
It definitely hasn’t been a smooth road. In fact, I think if it had been smooth, I probably wouldn’t be making the kind of art I’m making now.
Every major chapter of my life has come with its own form of pressure. Moving to New York meant learning how to compete and refine myself quickly. Los Angeles taught me how fragile creative ecosystems can be running a venue and studio was incredibly rewarding, but it was also financially and emotionally demanding. You’re responsible for artists, events, equipment, rent, production, expectations. It’s a constant balancing act between vision and survival.
Then COVID hit and dismantled the live performance world almost overnight. That forced a complete reset. Relocating, restructuring, and starting over in Arizona off-grid wasn’t glamorous it was survival and recalibration. Living that way teaches you resilience in a very real sense. You can’t fake discipline when you’re responsible for power, land, animals, and your own infrastructure.
On a personal level, heartbreak and betrayal changed me deeply. After a breakup, I had to confront a lot of emotional weight all at once. There were broken promises, trust issues, and life complications that stacked up simultaneously. It would’ve been easy to shut down creatively during that period. Instead, I poured it into songwriting. That pain became structure. It became melody. It became storytelling.
Another struggle has been rebuilding momentum multiple times. Reinvention sounds romantic, but in reality it means starting over new networks, new spaces, new systems. It means proving yourself again and again. It means funding your own vision when resources are limited.
There’s also the challenge of doing something unconventional. Precognition isn’t built to fit neatly into one lane. It’s cinematic, layered, emotionally intense. That can make it harder to package or categorize. But I’ve learned that clarity of vision matters more than immediate validation.
If anything, the road being uneven is what sharpened me. The cities, the isolation, the business side, the heartbreak, the rebuilding all of it stripped away ego and left intention.
So no, it hasn’t been smooth. But it’s been formative. Every obstacle forced me to become more disciplined, more self-aware, and more deliberate about what I’m building.
And I think the music reflects that.
Appreciate you sharing that. What else should we know about what you do?
At the core, I’m a multidisciplinary artist but music is where everything converges.
Through my solo project, Precognition, I write, compose, and produce cinematic, emotionally driven music rooted in storytelling. I specialize in building layered melodies and harmonies that feel immersive almost visual. My background in visual art and performance heavily influences how I approach sound. I don’t just think in terms of verses and choruses; I think in atmosphere, tension, texture, and emotional arcs.
Lyrically, I focus on themes that are raw and human heartbreak, betrayal, resilience, identity, survival, and transformation. I’m not interested in surface-level writing. I build from lived experience. The songs come from real chapters of my life the highs of building creative spaces in Los Angeles, the isolation of living off-grid in Arizona, the collapse of relationships, the rebuilding process. That emotional honesty is central to what I do.
Beyond music, I’ve worked extensively in visual art, body painting, mixed media, gallery curation, and creative space development. I founded Karnak Gallery & Studio and later ran a venue in Los Angeles that housed my recording studio, where we hosted concerts, live-streamed events, and built a storefront for artists. I’ve always been drawn to building platforms not just creating art, but creating environments where art can exist.
What I’m most proud of isn’t a single accolade it’s the fact that I’ve consistently rebuilt. I’ve moved across the country multiple times, built creative ecosystems from the ground up, lived in some of the most competitive artistic cities in the world, stepped away from them entirely, and returned to my work with deeper clarity. Precognition represents the culmination of all of that.
What sets me apart is that my work isn’t confined to one discipline. I think structurally because I’ve run venues. I think visually because I’m a visual artist. I think emotionally because I’ve lived through extreme contrast city intensity, desert isolation, community, loss, rebuilding. That combination shapes the sound in a way that’s hard to replicate.
I’m not chasing trends. I’m building something cinematic and long-term. I approach art like architecture layered, intentional, and designed to last.
So, before we go, how can our readers or others connect or collaborate with you? How can they support you?
The best way to work with me is through alignment and intention.
Creatively, I’m always open to collaborating with producers, instrumentalists, visual artists, videographers, and engineers who connect with the cinematic and emotionally driven direction of Precognition. If someone resonates with the storytelling, layered harmonies, and atmospheric sound, I’m open to building something meaningful together. I value collaborators who understand depth, mood, and long-term vision.
For studio collaboration, I work out of my own studio in Minnesota and also collaborate with close friends who operate their own creative spaces. When schedules align, we refine production, experiment with arrangements, and push the work further. I’m always open to connecting with serious creatives who bring both skill and discipline.
Visually, I welcome collaboration with photographers, stylists, and designers who understand aesthetic cohesion. Precognition isn’t just audio it’s a visual world as well.
For those who want to explore the music or support the project, there are two official platforms:
• www.officialprecognition.com
This site features my demo work and gives insight into the foundation and direction of the project.
• www.officialprecognition.net
This platform highlights my single release and presents a different visual and sonic experience.
Each site has different music, photography, and creative direction. They’re intentionally distinct because they represent different phases and dimensions of Precognition.
The most meaningful ways to support are listening, sharing the music, engaging with releases, and spreading the word organically. Independent artists grow through community. Word of mouth still carries real power.
You can also support by connecting directly through the official websites, collaborating creatively, attending future shows, or simply amplifying the project on social platforms.
At this stage, I’m focused on building something intentional and lasting. If someone aligns with that vision whether as a collaborator or supporter there’s room to create something impactful together.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.officialprecognition.net
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/precognitionofficial
- Facebook: https://facebook.com/officialprecognition
- Twitter: https://twitter.com/jonjacobxndrwic
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@PrecognitionOfficial
- Other: https://www.officialprecognition.com
