The People Behind

Annabel Soh

Songwriter · Lead Vocals · Producer · Vocal Coach · Mentor

Annabel didn't arrive at worship leadership. She was formed into it, quietly and thoroughly, long before anyone saw her on a stage. First came two years of Bible school — proper theological study. Then two more years at a Christian creative arts college, learning how the arts can carry what words alone cannot, how craft and consecration belong in the same room. She absorbed all of it not to build a career but to build a foundation.

Her first years of ministry happened mostly out of sight. Cell group leading. Serving at the edges — the kind of serving that never shows up in any programme booklet, that no one photographs. She set up chairs. She prayed with people after the service. She showed up consistently in the Ekklesia seasons of City Harvest Church, when the worship was raw and unfinished and something about that rawness made it more alive than polished things often are. She was not impatient to be seen. She was learning to be faithful. And faithfulness, held long enough, has a way of becoming its own kind of authority.

In time she became one of CityWorship's most beloved song leaders — her voice carrying not just pitch and tone but something quieter: the weight of someone who has genuinely meant every word she has ever sung. But ask Annabel what she is most proud of, and she will not mention a song, a concert, or a stage. She will tell you about the young singer who came to her not believing she had anything worth offering, and left knowing she did. She will tell you about the worship leader who had lost the plot — running a ministry but not really worshipping anymore — and the long conversation that helped them find their way back.

Annabel is a vocal coach and mentor in the truest sense: she doesn't train voices, she tends to the people behind them. Beyond Singapore, she and Daniel have carried that same spirit into missions — to Japan, Korea, Taiwan and Malaysia, not to perform but to be present, to walk alongside communities and leave them a little more rooted. They have done worship training in the US, Indonesia and Hong Kong, investing in worship teams who needed not just technique but theology. Online, they have coached and mentored worship musicians in Malaysia and India — turning geography into a minor inconvenience, meeting people where they are.

All eight songs on Treasure were written by Annabel and Daniel together — she and her husband of many years, co-writers before they were ever co-producers. The songs are the fruit of a long conversation about God, about life, about what it means to keep worshipping when the seasons shift and the certainties don't. Her goal has never changed: to bring people to Jesus. Not to an emotion. Not to an aesthetic. To the Person — the rock who does not shift, the strength that does not thin out, the One whose Name, it turns out, was already written inside every one of us before we ever thought to look.

Daniel Chew

Songwriter · Drums · Lead Vocals (BYNC) · Mixing Engineer · Producer · Band & Drum Coach

Long before Daniel ever thought about technique, he was behind a drum kit in a church, learning something no music school teaches in its first semester: that the job of a drummer in a worship room is not to be heard, it is to hold. To hold time, to hold space, to hold the room steady so that something else — Someone else — can move. That understanding didn't come from instruction. It came from years of simply showing up and watching what happened when he got it wrong, and the slow, humbling realisation of what it sounded like when he finally got it right.

His foundation was built deliberately. Two years at a Christian creative arts college gave him the theological scaffolding to understand why the arts matter to the kingdom — not as decoration but as declaration. A musician who has sat with Scripture plays with a different kind of intention. He came out of those years not just more equipped, but more convinced. And that conviction sent him into the field early.

Over 80 gospel concerts across Indonesia, Taiwan, Malaysia and Australia. City after city, stage after stage, kit packed and unpacked more times than he can count. These weren't headline tours — they were gospel concerts, the kind where no one is there for the drummer, everyone is there for the message, and the drummer's job is to be so locked in, so present, that nothing about the music gets between the listener and the Person the music is pointing to. Eighty times he chose that. Eighty times, the choice was worth it.

After those years on the road, he pursued formal training at the Drummers Collective in New York — one of the world's most rigorous drum institutions — not because he lacked ability, but because he wanted to understand the full depth of what he had been given. He returned sharper, more precise, and more certain than ever that technical excellence and spiritual anointing are not in competition. He brought that conviction directly into education, joining Yamaha Music School as a drum instructor — a season that shaped him as a teacher and deepened his pastoral instinct for how people actually learn. He has since moved on, but everything he built there remains in the students he formed.

He and Annabel — his wife, his co-writer, his partner in every sense — have carried their ministry far beyond Singapore. Missions to Japan, Korea, Taiwan and Malaysia. Worship training in the US, Indonesia and Hong Kong. Online coaching for worship musicians in Malaysia and India, reaching teams that geography might otherwise have left untouched. Across Singapore's churches, he has led worship training sessions that do what the best teaching always does: leave people not just with new skills but with a renewed understanding of why those skills exist.

On Treasure, Daniel occupies every corner of the room. Co-writer. Drummer. Lead vocalist on Because You Never Change. Mixing engineer. Producer. The production is the invisible kind — the kind that doesn't announce itself, that doesn't ask to be noticed, that simply makes the songs feel inevitable. That is a very particular skill, and it is very much his. He has spent thirty years learning that the best thing a musician can do is disappear into the music — and the best thing a producer can do is disappear into the song. On this album, he did both.

Serve one another in love

Serve one another in love

Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others.