So you’re living in London, but you’re from Leeds originally, aren’t you?

Harry Agius: I lived in Leeds for three… five years, actually. I was a student for three years.

Oh, okay. So were you born there, or…?

No, actually. I was born in Africa. Sorry, I was born in England, then moved to Africa when I was two years old, and then lived there until I was nine, then went to boarding school, and my parents continued to live out there until I was 13, and they moved to Greece. Then I just went to university when I was 19, up in Leeds, and then after that finished I just decided I liked this city. It’s really cheap, good music, great music scene. And quite a few of my friends were staying up there so I just decided to stay, basically.

Wow, that’s a huge cultural swing.

It does go some way to describe why I’m so scatty. [laughs]

So whereabouts in Africa? South Africa?

Tanzania. East Africa. Yeah, which was incredible.

Yeah. What do your parents do for you to have been living there?

My dad’s an engineer; my mum’s a teacher/supermom. She’s got five children so that takes up quite a lot of the time as well.

And so you moved back here and started going to university. Was that strange? Did you always come back to England?

Well, we always had a house in England, and so we were coming back for holidays. So it’s not like I was disconnected. And I was educated in England. But, effectively, I’ve kind of lived away from home since I was nine. You know, I go home for holidays, but I haven’t lived with my parents since I was about nine years old. I mean about apart from, like, two-month holidays.

Crazy. And so what did you study at university?

History.

OK, so why history?

History was just the option that kind of… it was the subject I was best at in school, and going to boarding school, their emphasis was on academics. You know, if you don’t do an academic degree, then you don’t get a good job in an office, even though from an early age I was convinced I wasn’t going to have an office job. I kind of listened to their rhetoric. My favorite subject was art, which is the subject that I worked the hardest at and I loved, but I just didn’t have enough self-confidence. I always saw myself as a bit of a pretender. So even though I got an “A” at A-level, which I was really happy with, it never really seemed like an option; and now, retrospectively, I’m gutted I didn’t do something I really enjoy more at uni because some of my friends did broadcasting and art, and they actually enjoyed going to their degrees.

I mean I was in a similar situation: I went to boarding school and felt that it was the fact that the school was largely academic. Although you can do things like art and music and stuff, there was almost no encouragement given to do that sort of thing.

No, and that was the problem. That’s the same in every school, though. It’s like academics is the focus, and there’s loads of kids who fall through the cracks because their brain doesn’t work like that. My brain, when it comes to maths and science, I just can’t understand it. But if you were to find out what kids were good at and nurture it… Everyone’s got a skill, and it’s trying to, like, instill in kids that, maybe you’re good with your hands so do some carpentry because you’re going to earn double the amount your friends are in an office working as a skilled worker, you know? And it’s not a kind of lower-class job.

I did social work in Brixton recently with a friend — Ben UFO — and there were a lot of kids who’d been kicked out of school or jobless or been to prison or whatever, and once you just sat down and talked to them about music, they kind of forgot about all their problems, and they were just really cool kids who were really interested in it. So I think you just need to focus more on that. The problem is our government will never focus on that because it doesn’t support capitalism. It doesn’t support commerce, really. “Oh yeah, maybe you should try becoming a musician.” It’s not like you’re actually going to contribute to our economy.

what’s the social work that you and Ben UFO have been doing?

To be fair, the course ended about last Christmas, but we did it for about four or five months. He’d done a lot more. I just kind of came in. It’s called Raw Material, and it’s just teaching kids how to produce, how to market themselves. It’s just a general hands-on thing, learning to DJ. They wrote a couple of tunes together, and my involvement was just one day a week for four months. I’m hoping to go back, but it’s kind of… I think it’s stagnated a bit, that specific cause. It was just at a time when I kind of felt like all I was doing was sort of self-serving music work. But it’s definitely something I want to continue doing; it’s just finding the kind of right avenues. It’s really interesting and not in a kind of wanting to give something back sort of cheesy way, you know? I mean I grew up surrounded by really abject poverty, and that’s not in the kind of… I obviously was an expat, but saying that, my parents were quite involved in all this charitable work out there. And I can’t really just come back and then just switch it off, you know?

Do you do music full time?

Yeah. Coming up to a year and a half.

Excellent. So what were you doing beforehand?

I was working in a bar. Just working.

So it was basically like get some money, just enough to focus on music?

Yeah, it was sort of, like, earn enough money just literally to pay the rent and eat. I was living on something hideous like 100 pounds a week. And that was, like, food, rent, everything. Rent was, like, 60 quid.

So when was it that you knew that you were going to do music as opposed to doing something with your university degree?

Well, music was… I never really… I went straight into bar work. The first year after leaving uni was just, like, “Oh, I’m just going to piss around and stay in Leeds as a kind of faux student.” But music started to happen kind of slowly, and then it just was last November, as in November a year ago, that I decided to just take a punt on it. [laughs] It’s quite amusing. I thought I had a big PRS payment coming in because I got quite a few tunes played on Radio 1, but it was the classic “didn’t really know how it worked,” and it takes months for it to filter through. So I quit my job, and then I got my PRS statement, and it was like 54 pounds. I was like, “Oh my god.” I had to borrow a bit of money off my parents. That’s the only time I’ve had to borrow off them since I’ve left university, which I’m kind of quite proud of, considering I’ve paid my rent and my own way really from music since I left. But working in the club, it was just such harrowing work because it wasn’t a bar. I finished at five in the morning four nights a week. And I can’t sleep in late so I was waking up at 10. I was just a zombie for a year. There were times I was just like, “What am I doing?”

Did that give you time to work on music?

Yeah, yeah, totally. I was doing a lot of work on music, but also all my housemates were students. All of our friends were still kind of studying so a lot of people just kind of coming around to our house, and we had the party house. Luckily, I had the room at the top.

So when was it that you decided that music was something you wanted to do? Was it while you were at university?

I DJed at university; I played drum and bass, actually. And then, I don’t know, it happened by accident. Completely by accident. I wrote a tune with David [Kennedy], Pearson Sound, the summer we left uni. It got signed to Aus Music, then I wrote a few more tunes on my own.

So that tune that you wrote with him, was that the first thing you’d really worked on?

Well, I mean I’d been fiddling around with Logic. I’d made five tracks, five finished tracks, but that was the first non-drum and bass track I’d made. With David, the first time we’d actually done something together successfully.

Wow, and you guys were living together?

Yeah, and we still do, actually. And then I just made a few more tunes and sent them to a couple of mates, and [they] made their way to a management company who then signed me up, and they helped me get an agent and they hooked up a FACT mix and helped get an EP with Phonica. So they had the contacts to send out my music because I had no idea. I’d been trying to write drum and bass for two years and having no joy, so I just thought, “It’s going to take me at least two years until people are even listening to my music in house.” And then to find out from the moment you’ve made your first record, like — I don’t know, eight months later, [having] Sasha play your record is like a complete head-spin. [laughs]

In many ways the fact that you did that with David must have been a huge leg up, really.

Yeah, I suppose so.

It’s like instant street cred right there because he was already established.

It was funny because we wrote it kind of just before he really exploded. It was kind of that year; 2011 was just his year, you know? We wrote it at the tail end of 2010. And quite a few people did sort of say, “It’s quite handy that you did that,” but really it just came down to we’d been mates for three years, and we were a bit bored at his parents’ house that one summer day. I’d just gone down because I was bored at home. We were just driving around in my mum’s car, and we were like, “Yeah, let’s write a kind of Chicago-house record,” just a really pastiche-y house record. But then we actually got into it and took it a little more seriously. But it was just a load of fun, man, just sitting in his parents’ attic, just cutting up acapellas and playing keys. But it put a lot of pressure on the releases after because people were always like, “Oh, you’re that guy who made the tunes with Ramadanman.”

Oh yeah, that’s what I was going to ask you about. That must almost be a curse for you.

Initially.

Because you make house and techno.

Yeah, yeah.

And nobody thinks of you as a house and techno producer.

They didn’t, until recently. I think people still thought that I was sort of part of UK bass world, which I am kind of by proxy. It’s not saying that I don’t play and sometimes make things which are classifiable as that, but it’s so much about who you’re seen to be associated with, what sort of labels you’re with, and it’s all how people perceive you. It’s all in the eye of the beholder. You get asked to play one night, which is a really house-y night, and they’ll be posting up the things they think you might be doing. So you’ll be playing a house party, and they’ll be putting up “Your Words Matter” and my last Aus one, the more straight ones. And then you’ll play at a more UK bass night, and they’ll be putting up your earlier ones.

That’s true as well with releasing music. You might release something you made two years ago; to people buying it, that represents you now. But to you it actually it really is something quite old. And so with this last release I did for Aus, I had a few tracks lying around, but I was kind of loathe to use them. So I wrote the tracks all in four months at the same time last year, because I know Will [Saul] is very efficient in how quickly he releases music. And so I think from now on I kind of like the idea of having these tunes and giving them to labels or releasing them shortly after.

I was having a think about this on the way here, because you make music that varies a bit. There are so many producers now who just hone in on one sound and just do that to death. How do you feel about that in terms of perhaps what the public wants? Do you think people are actually after that from an artist? Because it makes it hard, doesn’t it? If you’re trying to put yourself out there and build an image as, “This is me; this is what I do.” If people think they’re going to hear a release from you and the next release is going to be really different, they’re not going to know what to think or what image to form of you.

I know, this is the kind of constant thing that plays on my mind. For instance, I’ve just done two remixes which are quite straight house. And for the third one, I almost feel like a sell-out, using a 4/4 kick drum because I’ve already used it on these two, and that’s not me trying to be like, “Oh, I’ve got to keep my balance,” you know, “I’ve got to keep my slightly wonky stuff,” you know? It’s just that I’ve just spent a month with 4/4 kick drums, and I want to do something different.

You’re kind of bored of it by that stage, yeah.

[laughs] Maybe it’s just that, maybe it’s just a short attention span. Or not even a short attention span, but…

But I guess the thing with music is you always want to push yourself, don’t you? And just do something completely different.

This is true. I think it gets harder to do as you get more of a name. You do kind of see it with artists who have formerly been very interesting, kind of honing in on one sound. There’s nothing wrong with it. But then also you get people like Actress almost just going weirder.

But that’s his thing.

And that’s amazing, you know? It works so well in its kind of disarray. I suppose it’s trying to keep a coherent kind of sound through all the different sort of stops along the way. I suppose that’s it, really. I just like things to have a bit of character. And there’s a lot of people recently who have been asking me what hardware I use, like, “Yeah, man, I like that analog sound you’ve got.” I don’t use any hardware, I just make it on my computer, but I always want it to sound kind of worn. So I’ve got processes which I use that kind of age sounds that aren’t actually played in from old synths, you know? Everyone loves the hardware at the moment. It’s on every press release. The sort of single-sided analog jam, and you listen to it and it’s not great, but the press release is so wordy, and it’s just using all these superlatives and descriptions about what’s actually quite mundane. Hardware is actually quite difficult to work with; and I like hardware, but I think a lot of people are just buying hardware because they think it’s a kind of golden ticket to writing.

They think it’s going to write itself, or something.

That is actually incredibly difficult because you’ve got to sync it up with your sequencer. Most synths like the Juno, the Juno-106, you can’t save patches. Like the one I used to have before it gave up the ghost, you had to touch the corner just to get the cutoff to work. It was temperamental. I think people quite like the temperamentality of it, you know?

I remember I first started going out and buying lots of old analog stuff, and some of the things you get coming out of them because you patched it wrong or you didn’t understand MIDI properly, something else entirely would start playing.

Yeah, totally. I remember reading an article, an interview with Ricardo Villalobos — you know he did that kind of recontextualized jazz with Max Loderbauer. And they were using these crazy modular synths, and he was saying that, you turn it off and you never have that sound again, and there was an element of complete chance. The planets align and you get this sound and you use it, and it’s gone, which is kind of fascinating. I almost think I’m too much of a wimp to do that at the moment; but also, I haven’t been able to afford hardware until recently. I think it’s just a process. I want to try out as much as I can before I invest my money in it. To just learn one synth really well.

Well, I mean that’s the danger, isn’t it? Because it’s so easy to get VST plugins for all these amazing old synths, and you tend to treat them like…

Throwaways.

Yeah.

But that’s just part of the problem now, isn’t it? Just, “oh, it doesn’t matter; I’ll buy 10 MP3s because they’re only a quid each,” but then you wouldn’t be doing that if it was 10 records in a record shop. You’d have that thing where you listen to the records, and then you have to do a kind of shortlist, and then you listen to the shortlist, and it’s like, “I really can’t spend more than 40 quid.”

You might even have to throw one back that you really want.

Yeah, and it really hurts. 90 percent of the records I buy on vinyl now are killer, and I suppose I’m getting a bit more selective about the MP3s. But it is, again, that digital thing, and it’s the same with synths. Someone emailed me going, “Oh yeah, what’s a good synth for deep house?” I’m just like, “Any synth will make deep house sounds.” It’s something that took me ages to learn, that the synth is really just someone’s opinion on how to do the same thing, you know? Most synths do exactly the same thing, especially with VSTs. It’s just a design. And once you find the one you like, the chances are you can use that for years, and get completely mental, different sounds out of it every time.

Yeah, I think especially if you really learn how to program properly.

Yeah, totally. I mean I use 90 percent Logic plugins off Logic 7, they’re old but work really well.

Yeah, I mean that’s the thing: when you think about all we’ve got these days to be able to make stuff, compared tolike, 15, 20 years ago, it’s ridiculous.

There’s too much choice. You listen to seminal old records; they had an eight-track, three seconds of memory per track. And you’re like, “how can I twist this one hi-hat.” You know, “I’ve got three hi-hats to choose from. How can I make this one hi-hat really mental?”

Exactly, whereas now you have 28 different effects on each channel, and all sorts.

Yeah. I think if you really want, and if you do use computers to their full potential, you can get some amazing results, but you can also just have 10 tracks with synced loops.

Yeah. Now you were mentioning before about press releases saying at the moment everyone talking about the analog sound sort of thing. How aware do you feel you have to stay of trends? Obviously, within house music or bass music or whatever, there’s certain things that are really hot right now, and when you start to get your name out there a bit more, people expect a certain thing of you. How much does that weigh on your mind when you go in and start to make something?

Not at all. [laughs] Not at all. I got the press release for my last EP, and it was just this really long track-by-track analysis, and I just was like, “Is it alright if I rewrite this, or can I rewrite this with someone independently, and then we just shortened it down a lot. I just really can’t stand track-by-track press releases. I have nothing against people who use them; I’ve got friends who release records who use them, but it’s just telling people what to expect, you know? I like it when it just says “new record from this person.” Or if it’s like Jus-Ed, you know, and it’s, “Don’t buy the fucking MP3s. You’re taking food out of my son’s mouth and stopping me being able to send him to college.” [laughs] I like that. That’s a press release right there.

Exactly. Or get a German person to write it and then translate it into English. I love that.

Kind of really amusing, but in a really deadpan way. But no, the next couple of releases I’m doing, I have really no plans. I’m just going to write some music, basically. I’m in a very lucky position; I’ve got gigs now so I can relax a bit and pay the rent.

Are you now getting approached by labels who are commissioning releases off you?

Yeah, I mean I’ve had a few offers, but I’ve kind of got a quite specific idea of what and where I want to release.

You seem to have a good relationship with Aus.

Yeah, definitely. I mean Will’s basically said, “We’re always here.” You know, obviously there’s a lot of music coming up over the next few months so in terms of if I want to do another one, it would probably be in December or January. But Will is always there, and I love how he works. It’s just really quality, you know? And I’m so lucky to have basically worked with them since I started releasing music. And also, that I’ve had pretty much everything I’ve ever written released on vinyl, which is not something everyone can say. And it’s something that, if I start my own label, it will be top of the list: the vinyl and how it’s presented. And also, if there is a vinyl and you buy the vinyl, you get a free download code.

I think that’s always good. Yeah, that’s something I’ve really appreciated lately. You know, so then you can just download the stuff to listen to when you want, and then you can keep your vinyl pristine for playing.

I still buy at least 100 pounds worth of vinyl a month. All the vinyl-only stuff, and then I rip it, and I play it through Serato. But the whole ripping process is so lengthy. In our house we’ve got a really nice Rega. David has his Rega, so we got that and a phono pre-amp. So we record it in through that and put it into Logic, edit it, limit it, so you’ve these limited, beautifully recorded WAVs of these records, and that preserves them. There’s a record in there which cost me 12 quid, and it’s like if someone scratches that, and it’s one of 300 copies… It is very funny because you get shit off people who are purist vinyl DJs saying, “Oh, you play on your laptops,” and it’s like, “I’m still playing records that I’ve bought. I’m still buying records; it’s just I like it all in one place,” you know?

That’s very interesting, that you go to that effort to keep your vinyl in good nick.

Yeah, yeah. I’ve probably ripped, like… I mean me and David, both of us do it, but I’ll probably spend about eight hours a month ripping vinyl. It’s so satisfying because that way you’re forced to listen to the music, you know?

That’s true. Because I mean that’s one thing that’s hard now, isn’t it? Like, in the past I knew every single piece of vinyl I had, every track.

Well, when it’s ripping you have as long as it takes to record it, and so you just sit there, headphones on, comfy chair. When I used to play vinyl and Serato, I’d forget to play the vinyl. I’d forget to play the tunes in Serato. But it’s very funny because you have people who don’t buy vinyl anymore leaning over like, “What’s this tune? What’s this tune? What’s this tune?” It’s like if you’d kept up with what’s getting released, you’d know. And it’s digging for those tunes which gives your set an interesting edge. Like, I got asked to do a chart for Beatport recently, and I looked at my chart, and only one of the tunes was released this year.

Or unavailable.

No, I did it all with ones that were on Beatport, but only one that was released this year. I have this really interesting relationship with promos and digital promos, and I kind of like to discover music of my own where you go on those tangents. The other day I knew nothing about Masters At Work so I spent a day just researching. Then you start reading up about them and working out who they worked with and finding all these little nooks and crannies. And that’s one day, and you get to the end and you’re completely rinsed out. I like the idea of playing music in sets that people don’t know if it’s new or old. And I think if something was worth playing four years ago and it’s still worth playing now, then it’s a timeless record. And then obviously you still play records and then [think], “Why did I play that?” But it’s kind of nice to try and limit the amount of times that happens. But sometimes you have gigs where the crowd is just completely not feeling what you’re playing, and you’ve to go a little bit harder or cheesier, and then you get to the end and you feel dirty. [laughs]

With that in mind, what about remixes? You’ve done quite a few remixes. Are there any sort of on the verge of “I’m not sure if I should do this”?

Yeah, there were a couple of ones I did very early on and it was like, “Wow, someone wants me to remix, and they’re going to give me some money, and it’s good and it will pay my rent for three months when I’m really really poor.” But now it’s like, ughhh. Everyone’s a genius in hindsight though and I think now it’s a matter of what’s the label like? What’s the artist like? What’s the tune like? And if that’s cool then… But as of this last one — and I always say this — I do really, really want to limit it because sometimes you finish something and you think, “That could have been a really good track of mine.”

Deetron said a similar thing, that he would only do remixes now with vocals in them because otherwise he felt he was giving away a free track.

That’s very true. I think remixes are a funny because they’re just as important as a really good tune. But I think Levon Vincent put it really well in an interview in RA when he was talking about remixes as a commodity thing. They want a bit of your image, you want a bit of theirs, and it kind of made me think, “Why do they want your remix?” Is it because I fill their edgy UK underground box, and it makes me kind of wonder. But then there are amazing remixes, like the Marcel Dettmann remix of Junior Boys. Man, that’s a remix. Actually I played the Carl Craig remix of that Junior Boys track…

“Like A Child.”

Yeah. And I’d never played it out before and it’s like four minutes until the kick drum comes in and by the time the kick drum comes in people are totally losing their shit. It’s such a good feeling to be able to do a remix like that and know that it’s going to take a DJ with balls to play it. I’m not saying I’m a trailblazing DJ, it was 5am when I played it. But I was talking to my housemates the other day and we were saying how big tunes, often, are the ones that catch you and get you into a groove from the off, you know? They’re not too much for people to process but they’re just enough to get people interested. It’s a simplicity, which I often don’t do. It’s always too complicated I think. You flick into one part of the tune and you’re like, “Errr, that’s OK,” but really you want to be able to tell people to wait because in two minutes that last bit will make sense and the whole thing will have grown. But maybe I’m just jealous because I can’t write stripped back bangers.

It’s a real problem in production in that you’re always trying to pack lots of ideas in rather than just work on a groove.

Yeah, you’ve got to be very militant and really question as to what you need in the track. I think it always gets to that stage where you feel like you need more elements where all you really need is to just work on the parts you already have.

So what’s in your record bag?

This is a Jon Heckle remix of Trackmasta Lou, which is just humungous. Then there’s this new one on the Rawax label. All of the records under this banner are really good. If I ever get asked to play at Panorama Bar, then these records are weird enough and also heavy enough. Then there’s this new one on Voodoo Down, which I didn’t get for the STL track. I do love his stuff but then I have ten of his records and they’re very similar sounding.

He’s one of those guys who just really work on honing a particular sound.

Yeah, I think that’s why it’s quite good to work sometimes with an alias, because people won’t then have preconceptions about what it will sound like. But then every time I try and work under an alias my management always tell me I might as well release it as Midland, or I just end up doing that anyway.

So you haven’t got any secret ones out yet?

No, not yet, but it’s still early days. I just work really slowly. That’s why I’m looking forward to the next few months, because I’m going to finish this remix and then I’m going to write four twelve inches by the end of the year. What’s that? Like one every two months or so, so it’s not that much really.

And how often are you playing gigs?

Pretty much every weekend. This weekend I’m playing Rome on Saturday and then Bristol on Saturday. It’s enough time to recover and be productive. I like to keep the week and the weekend separate. My housemates are always joking with me that I DJ on the weekend and drink too much, but then during the week I’m really militant, eating really well and getting to bed early, just preparing for the next weekend. I mean I’m not one of those people who feels like they can party all weekend, I fell like I’m too old for that now. I mean I’m only 25 but I think I might just be a bit of an old man. All my friends say that about me. I just prefer to do things like get the paper on a Sunday, relaxing, play some darts, I don’t know.

So what can you tell us about the mix that you put together for us? Things you’ve been diggin lately?

Well not necessarily things I’m feeling right at this minute per se, not in the sense of like a Beatport chart or anything, but more perhaps things people haven’t heard before. With a mix, usually I like to start slow and it’s like a dot to dot. It’s not that I have certain tunes and they have to be in the mix, it’s more a case of having a tune and then figuring out what the next one should be, whether it’s something I’ve already got or something I have to go and buy. So there is a theme, from slow and fuzzy sort of disco stuff through to some weird rhythmic stuff before the house comes in. There are different sections… Maybe it’s just really self-indulgent tripe, but I just like it when people say to me, “I really love your mix, I listen to it every day on the way to work or when I’m at the gym, or when I’m going on the train.” When you’re sound-tracking someone’s journey, that’s when you know you’re doing a good job.

I mean it’s a very different thing, isn’t it? You’ve got to approach it from a completely different angle than just putting your records together to go out and play a set.

Yeah, totally. And that’s why when people are asking all the time for podcasts, I say that I only really do one or two a year, max. And they’re like, “Oh, come on. Just 30 minutes of a live set.” But I think if you want your mix to stick out, or if you want your mix to be something people go back to, you’ve got to put in some effort because there are so many mixes these days, and I’m pretty sure that if I put out five mixes a year, people would be less inclined to listen to them properly. But then again, once people start to trust your selection implicitly, like someone like Ben UFO, they just know it.

He could put out five mixes a year, and–

Yeah, and we’d all want to listen to it. He’s a really good mate of mine, and this sounds like such a kiss-ass compliment, but I find the prospect of a new mix from him is almost the same level of excitement as a new Radiohead or Actress album, you know? It’s like, “I have no idea what’s going to be in here, but I’m so looking forward to it, and I need to give it some time.”

You mentioned you want to finish off a few EPs, but have you got sort of any plans over the next year? Things you want to achieve with what you’re doing?

Not really. I mean I just want to write some interesting music, basically. I got closer to it over the last EP, being happy with stuff. But I’m still kind of finding my feet, I think. So I’ve just finished a 12? with Pariah, which is quite banging, quite techno-y. We wrote one of the tunes a year ago, and the flip-side we’ve just written. But we were very conscious about how they sound as a pair. They ended up sort of harder than I think anyone would have heard me and him go. So that will be quite interesting. And it’s quite funny because one of the tunes went up on YouTube, and everyone was like, “No, this is definitely a Karenn tune, this is definitely a Blawan tune. The percussion’s too heavy to be a Midland tune.” [laughs] So again, that’s just how people perceive you.

You’ve said that places like DMZ and FWD>> are big influences for you, but how did you get there? What got you to your first DMZ night, to your first FWD>> night?

Ben Thomson: I would still consider FWD>> and DMZ the real foundations of what we do as a label and what I still try to do as a DJ. I would cite the early dubstep scene as probably the single most important influence which runs through everything that we’ve done in the past four years, really. But I was interested in dance music before that; I was probably about 17 or something when I started listening to jungle and drum and bass. I think my first exposure to that was through a DJ called Bailey, who was affiliated with Metalheadz. He did a show on 1Xtra, which is the BBC’s “urban” music outlet. I found the music he played interesting, he played quite a broad cross-section of stuff but really focused on records which retained the influence of early jungle and the aesthetic of that music, and focused on sort of frenetic breakbeats and broken drum patterns… very sub-bass oriented. Hearing his show got me digging through all of the mid-90s stuff I missed out on.

I don’t know if Bailey is playing that kind of music now, or if he still does radio. I’m not really sure, but through that show I started going out to some nights. There was a night called Technicality that was run by a label called Inperspective and a night called Bassbin, run by the label of the same name. They were both in the same venue, a place called Herbal. I’d go down to these nights — they were mostly, like, mid-week, and I’d be the youngest person there by a stretch. It was mostly slightly older heads who had been into the music since the 90s. I was around all these people who were very knowledgeable about different strains of electronic music, and I really value that as something that helped spark my curiosity. People were starting to document dance music quite thoroughly online, so I was quite lucky in that respect to be able to dig through decades worth of music. Maybe not as easily as I could do now, but far easier than it would have been 15 years ago.

And then it was just a natural progression to end up at FWD>> and DMZ?

I guess — I was first exposed to dubstep through the people I was hanging out with at those nights. There was a point in early 2005, or maybe slightly before, when it was starting to pop up on people’s radars a bit, it was starting to get more coverage online. People were talking about this “interesting new genre.” I checked out a few records — you know, at that point there were maybe one or two releases every couple of weeks or something. I checked out DMZ 002, which included “Horror Show” by Loefah, this sort of seminal half-step track. I remember checking out a couple of the early Tempa releases. But what really sparked my interest were the Toasty Boy records I heard. I can’t remember what the 12? titles were, but I connected to them straight away through of the use of breakbeats and the slightly busier drums — it was an aesthetic that I was more familiar with. So I latched onto that side of things, and I was excited enough to want to go down and check out any nights where those people were playing. And as soon as you get down to FWD>> or DMZ, suddenly those records that didn’t really make much sense to me in my house made perfect sense on a dance floor with a good sound system. Everything suddenly snapped into focus. On a track like “Horror Show,” for example, which in my house just sounded really empty and quite cold, when you hear a bass line like that on a system that’s capable of reproducing it, it sounds alive. Obviously the use of sub-bass doesn’t differentiate dubstep from other forms of UK dance music, but it took listening to the music on big sound systems to lift dubstep out of that sparseness for me. It really made me value that sound system culture that runs through the music.

As a DJ you’ve done festivals and intimate club gigs, podcasts, radio (both internet and FM), commercially available CDs and cassettes: how do you approach each of these situations?

There are loads of differences between those different formats. Even the transition between internet radio and FM radio… there’s a big difference there in terms of the wider significance of playing on FM radio when it comes to UK music.

I first started to DJ regularly on an internet station called Sub FM. I ran a show called the Ruffage Sessions with David [Pearson Sound] and Kev [Pangaea], and we then went on to form the label. It was my first experience of playing regularly anywhere, and my first experience of feeling pressurized into really digging for music that other people weren’t playing. You know, what’s the point of doing radio if you’re just presenting the same material every week? And not only that, but if you’re presenting the same material as everybody else as well. That was a real issue at one point — like I mentioned before there just weren’t that many records being released. So I guess that’s something that carried through to the Rinse shows. I don’t like to repeat myself too much, and I think doing something like radio for two hours regularly is a really good testing experience. It forces you to look slightly harder than you might do otherwise, and to dig slightly deeper than you might do otherwise. So I’ve taken that from radio into playing in clubs. I’ve kind of forged my reputation off the back of being able to draw together loads of disperate styles of music from different territories and different eras. I think it was down to radio that I’ve been able to do that, because that was what got me digging in the first place. That’s why I have those records.

I guess I still think about doing Rinse in the same way that I thought about doing Sub FM, but I see it as something more explicitly tied to what I do now. I mean, Rinse has a really strong presence on the Internet, and that kind of dwarfs their presence on FM radio in London, but there’s such a strong history and such an embedded culture of FM radio transmission in London and that was probably the most crucial in element in shaping dance music here. For a lot of people it was where they experimented and where they formed their ideas about where they wanted music to go. It’s where people bounced ideas off their peers. I don’t know if it’s necessarily to do with the format or if it’s something that just comes with getting a little bit more exposure and having a larger audience, but on FM radio I definitely feel a pressure to live up to the standards of the past.

Club sets are really great and definitely different to radio. I guess primarily because in a club you’re getting constant feedback from people every time you look up. To see a room full of people moving, one way or another you’re always gleaning information about what they like. Every time you look up and see how people react to a certain track, and that feeds back into the set. I really like the immediacy of the response that comes with DJing in that situation. I’m interested to find out how playing out informs what I play on the radio, because I think the more you play in the clubs and the more you play to an audience, the more difficult it is to know the extent to which you’re playing for yourself. If you DJ for a living, which I’m lucky enough to be able to do, you know, people’s self-esteem is tied up in what they do. It’s pleasing to see a room full of people having a really good time, enjoying your music and enjoying what you’re playing. If you see a room full of people having a great time, you’re more likely to have a great time yourself. So I’m interested to try and figure out the extent to which my enjoyment of DJing is bound up with other people’s enjoyment of what I do. I don’t know if it’s possible to separate the two things, and I think that’s something that has only come as a result of club DJing, as opposed to radio DJing. With radio DJing, you’re in a room by yourself playing records and you could have thousands of listeners or you could have 10. In a club, you’re hyper-conscious the people around you and whether they’re having a good time. Or at least I am, anyway.

So would you say that doing the radio show shapes the contents of your record bag?

Yeah, definitely. One hundred percent. All the radio shows are archived permanently, so if people like my DJing — two shows a month isn’t really that much — they could very easily listen to everything that goes up on the Rinse site. I know most people won’t do that, but I would be disappointed in a DJ I rated if I downloaded two radio shows in a month and the selection was largely the same. There will be stuff that I play repeatedly, particularly stuff that I’m in a position to promote, where other people maybe aren’t — so new music from the UK — but generally I won’t play something more than two or three times because at the moment I don’t find it difficult to find music I like enough to want to play. I get bored easily — I like switching it up, and I like the idea that someone could see me play in London in January or whatever, and then come and see me six weeks later and see a completely different set. I want to give people a reason to keep listening to what I do. That doesn’t mean I value the records any less, it just means that I enjoy the spontaneity of DJing with a different record bag from night to night slightly more than sticking with the same thing.

I haven’t messed around with production enough to know whether or not this is true, but what I suspect to be the case is that with production, you spend a long time perfecting something, and it’s presumably hugely satisfying when this thing you’ve worked on for weeks or months gets played out and you get to see people react to it for the first time. But I really love that feedback system in clubs that I was talking about earlier, where you can feel people’s reactions more or less immediately, and constantly, and I think those moments of spontaneity and adaptability which I value so much are facilitated by having different record bags from night to night, and having a wider selection to draw on.

With all these Rinse shows archived, how do you then make something like a podcast or a mix CD stand on its own?

A Rinse set will be totally off the cuff from start to finish. I’ll be a little distracted by trying to interact with my listeners, which is something I think is really important. I think I’ve generated a fairly loyal audience, and I would guess that the level of interaction on the show is a big part of that. People know I’m reading what they say because I shout them out and I try to communicate with them. I like that feeling that anything can happen, and I think a lot of the best mixes come out when you’re just playing records and letting inspiration come to you. But it’s difficult to recreate that with a podcast, so I think quite carefully about each one I record. I try and make sure it flows as perfectly as possible, and I try to just make it something that would stand up to repeated listens. I don’t want to saturate the Internet with studio mixes, so when I record something like this I have to feel like it’s an accurate representation of what I do. I mean, in an ideal world I guess everyone would listen to each radio show really attentively and get really immersed in it, but realistically if someone wants to know whether or not to come and see you at a party, more often than not they’ll just Google your name and check out the first thing that comes to hand — in my case, that’s normally a podcast.

On the Rinse show and with Hessle Audio, you’re able to break a lot of music that gets sent to you, and you’ve also been able to introduce the bigger dubs of the day, such as “Sicko Cell” or “Swims.” How do you see your role in shaping what’s going on in this scene?

Most of the time I’m not able to predict what those big tracks are going to be, so I don’t approach playing a tune like “Getting Me Down” by Blawan or “Sicko Cell” any differently than I would any other unreleased track I get sent. If I like it, I play it. With “Getting Me Down,” I played it on radio and someone ripped it and put it on YouTube immediately. I try not to dwell too much on whether or not a tune is going to blow up like that, because a lot of the time it’s not really in the interest of the tune to get such a huge amount of hype before it’s been released, so I don’t consciously try to generate it. I guess I’m just lucky, because at the moment it feels like I’m still shaping my own personal project rather than any scene in particular. It’s almost like I’ve been able to more or less ignore it completely, and I know that doesn’t sound like a particularly charitable thing to say, especially considering the fact that I am into the scene that surrounds this music: I like the people involved and the people who listen to the music. We have a great audience, but I’m not consciously catering to anyone when I DJ.

On Twitter you’ve made much more explicit remarks about the politics involved in dance music — and in this scene in particular — than others. For example, you remarked on tracks going up on YouTube and the visual being akin to soft porn. Most people turn a blind eye toward these things, but what makes you speak up about it?

I wouldn’t say anything were it not for the fact that a certain amount of people follow me now. I didn’t consciously plan to generate that, but I think given that I’m potentially speaking to large amounts of people it’s worth speaking up about things I feel strongly about, and I don’t think those things are completely disconnected from the way people experience music at all. Music is a really integral part of the way people live, especially now. Dance music is about commonality, in essence, and about the way people interact with each other, so I don’t think it should be a surprise that people involved in that music should be interested in speaking out against things that they think are shit.

I hadn’t seen anyone mention those YouTube rips you’re talking about, and it was something I’d noticed happening more and more regularly. It felt absurd, given the places a lot of this music has borrowed from. It started a bit of discussion, which I think means it was hopefully a worthwhile thing to have done. Of course 140 characters isn’t a lot to express a detailed critique of “gender relations in post-dubstep,” and I definitely wouldn’t be the best person to do that even if it was; but it’s enough of a platform to start a conversation, even if I’m not capable of finishing it.

Do you think those conversations have really happened?

I think they’re in the process of happening. They’re not limited to music, by any means, but things like the article Angus [Finlayson] wrote in The Quietus is a direct result of all that. I’m wary of sounding self-important but it’s so easy to communicate now with the people who are listening to what you do. People are tweeting constantly, they’re on Facebook constantly, and people have access to so much information about the musicians they’re interested in that it doesn’t seem sensible to hold back. I’ll hold back information about what I’m having for lunch or whatever, but if I see examples of harmful, damaging stuff seeping its way into how the music I love is promoted or advertised, then why not talk about it?

Do you think that dance music has lost a bit of the political edge that it used to have?

It’s an interesting time — it seems like people are becoming politicized very quickly. Essentially, I think music’s political implications are shaped by the physical environment the music was made in and listened to and danced to. I think if things carry on going the way that they’re going in the UK at the moment, with massive youth unemployment and austerity cuts hitting education and welfare programs really, really hard… I would be surprised if music didn’t represent an outlet for people.

You’ve spoken before about context in how we digest music. How do you try to shape that for your listeners?

I see that as being the main function of a good DJ, to try and shape the context in which people listen and dance. What I would ideally like to be able to do as a DJ is what my favorite DJs did for me, which is to inform me about the music and to present that music in an exciting way. Like the jungle sets I heard by Randall [McNeil] in the mid-90s — they still blow my mind. With him, it was about the way he would pace his sets and the way he built them up. When I was starting to go out there was a DJ called Equinox who I used to see at Technicality a lot, and the energy with which he used to mix these crazy jungle records was totally infectious — it would help you really lose yourself. The experience of listening to those DJs played a big part in shaping the music I like now and the music I like to play. Maybe the potential DJs have to shape people’s tastes like that might have been lost, to an extent, with things like YouTube becoming such an integral part of the way people consume music. I hope it’s still possible — I still respond better to an exciting DJ than to a good playlist.

Lots of the guys who found their roots at FWD>> and DMZ, like you and your Hessle cohorts, Scuba, Peverelist, have been really embracing house in a big way for the past year or two. Why do you think that is?

This is going to sound funny, but it’s less to do with house music suddenly becoming awesome than it is to do with a desire to get away from what dubstep has become. For me that’s the case, anyway. I still have a lot of love for that music, and it’s still the defining influence in terms of music I play, but by and large it’s lost what it was that I was excited about in the first place. It’s become something quite different. Searching for that same feeling I got from listening to old dubstep records is what led me to play the kind of music I play now. A lot of people who were gradually losing interest in that music leapt quite quickly into listening to the emerging house scene in London and on the pirates around 2008/2009, and like a lot of other people I started listening to the music that people like Marcus Nasty and Mac 10 would DJ. They started playing this bass-heavy, stripped-back house music with MCs, which really felt like a part of the trajectory of London-based dance music, especially given that both of those guys used to DJ with grime crews.

You’ve said before that you see a lot of people around you making house music without much knowledge of the history. It seems like that’s sort of the position that you found yourself in. Can you expand on that a little bit?

I’ve talked about that before in the context of the producers making the sort of early UK funky stuff, people searching for an atmosphere they’d found previously in other musics and weren’t currently hearing, whether they’d been into grime or garage or whatever. For me, what made a lot of it exciting was the lack of reverence, I guess. Those producers revered other styles, but not necessarily house music, and I think it resulted in a lot of interesting ideas which might not have occurred to people who were so totally and completely immersed in house music.

That’s one of the great things about house; it’s this huge thing with an immense, enormous, rich history that it’s possible to get immersed in and consumed by. But when music inspires that kind of passion, it has the potential to kind of blinker you at the same time — to narrow your vision a bit. I would back that up by pointing towards the perfectly acceptable, but kind of unambitious, tributes to old Chicago house and Detroit house I see popping up in record shops every week. And so I guess that’s kind of what I was trying to get at: the fact that people were making exciting, interesting music, and the only perceived restriction they had was tempo.

I guess that comment was more relevant a few years ago because since then, a lot has changed. The connections to the house scene have strengthened a bit, and you can see that in the kind of line-ups I’m playing on now. I think it probably was more the case a few years ago because people were making music I would consider house music, but without any connection to the established scene at all — you know, without even the idea that DJs in that scene might play it, because there was community in London that was supporting the music. But yeah, things have definitely changed.

What’s your digging process like? Unlike older DJs, you’ve grown up with the Internet; how does that influence how you’re looking for records?

It just means I’m able to do it more or less constantly. I use Discogs and YouTube a lot, and that’s awesome, but I’m a shameless trainspotter at the same time — I’m always paying attention, trying to find the tracks I love that I’ve heard DJs playing. By and large that’s a lot more fun than using Discogs and YouTube. Interacting with other DJs I respect and having that level of personal interaction is really fun. I’m in the immensely privileged position that I get to travel a lot to play, and when I’m in a place for slightly longer, my go-to method for wasting a few hours is trying to find a record shop in town. I guess the only difference is that even when I don’t have a record shop to go to, I still feel able to just go onto the Internet and listen to tracks. And it never stops. Now that DJing is, like, a full-time thing, it means I can always be working. I can always be digging. I definitely feel like I should continue doing it as much as possible — I still have a lot to learn. There’s hundreds and thousands of records I’ve not heard yet.

Where is Hessle’s A&R mind at? For the most part, it seems kind of like a family affair, but the most recent 12?s by Peverelist and Objekt have been label debutst. Are you guys generally looking to expand your roster or expand the sonic identity of the label?

We’re not planning any radical changes in the way that we work. The release with Peverelist was something we’d been wanting to do for a really long time, and we’d actually asked to release a couple of tracks by him that ended up on his album. We’ve always loved what he’s done, and we felt a connection to what he does with Punch Drunk and what he does as a producer and DJ. It just felt like a natural thing to do, especially when those tracks came along, because they’re just so great. I’m really proud of that one. And with TJ [Hertz, aka Objekt], it was similar in that we got to know him a bit first. I think I met him in Berlin when me and Jackmaster played for Modeselektor, and he’d sent me the first couple of the white labels, which I was really, really into. It felt like a good thing to pick up “Cactus,” just because there wasn’t any obvious place for it other than Hessle.

By and large with the label we’ve always been keen to release stuff that might not have a comfortable home elsewhere, which is why, I guess, we’ve ended up releasing a lot of debut records. That is something I’m definitely keen to continue. I think the individuality of a record label comes through doing things that other labels might not want to do, or things that might not come naturally to other labels. I think the way the label works will remain constant. I hope so, anyway.

I can remember two periods where Hessle was pretty silent: late 2010 between Hessle 09 and 10, and then after 116 and Rising. Is it fair to say that you guys don’t really care a whole lot about release schedules?

Yeah, I think it’s probably fair to say that. We don’t really have a release schedule — we’ve never announced a release without first having a good test pressing for that release. The only exception to that being the compilation, because it was such a big project and we needed a slightly longer lead-in to do it justice. But it always wound me up immensely that labels would announce reams of really exciting-sounding stuff and then completely fail to follow through. That was a real problem in drum and bass. I remember labels announcing, like, seven releases over the course of an 18 month period, and then maybe getting around to releasing one of them. So we probably overcompensate for that by being fairly quiet. I think it’s worked in our favor.

The reason for the periods of silence that you mentioned would be that in 2009 we were planning double-packs by Kev and David, the first projects like that that we’d done, and we wanted to get them right. Similarly, in the second half of last year we had just released 116 & Rising, which was a huge project for us — putting it together, sorting out the artwork, trying to get it the attention that we felt it deserved.

I think as a label, because none of us rely on it for our income, we’re in a position to have a pause like that if we feel like it’s worth doing. I think it tends to have a negative effect on the way that music is consumed when labels have such a high turnover that things don’t get the attention they deserve. It’s a shame, but unfortunately the way music is presented does have an impact on the way it’s listened to. If single “xyz” on a label is released at the same time as two albums and three other singles, or in the same six week period or whatever, then it’s not going to be an event in the same way. That’s another thing that’s carried through from the days of going to FWD>> and DMZ I think. I remember the excitement of going to DMZ in three days but still not knowing what the line-up was going to be, or the thought that a new DMZ record was coming out in one day still having no idea what the tracks were going to be. It’s the same with all kinds of music, like, I get excited when a new Sound Signature record comes out and I’m not expecting it. Or when Honest Jon’s put something out and takes everyone by surprise. It’s amazing; it’s great, and it has an impact.

I think that all of the Hessle records are still in print except the first two. Is there a reason behind that?

I think that’s right, yeah. The main reason is that the metalwork for the first two records has been lost. We used to use a pressing plant based in Nottingham, and when they shut down in huge amounts of debt all of the metalwork that they had at the plant was sold for scrap — that’s what we were told anyway. We’d have to re-cut those records to get them repressed, and we just haven’t got around to doing it. It doesn’t really feel like a priority.

Having said that, you’re right; we do tend to keep most of our records available and in print, because it feels like a cop-out to me, running a vinyl record label and not making things available for the people who want to buy them. These days, when record buyers are few and far between, it feels like a mistake to press up a limited 200-copy record and then tell the Internet all about it, you know? To deliberately under-press a record seems so contrived and ungrateful given that there are comparatively so few people willing to spend money on a record now –- those who are left really care about it, so they deserve to be catered for I think. The first two Hessle records may not be available at the moment, but at the time, they were available to everyone that wanted them.

Skrillex won a Grammy; thoughts?

[laughs] Good for him. Yeah, I feel absolutely no connection to that music anymore. That’s just a successful musician winning an award. It’s cool.

What about him shouting out Croydon?

[laughs] That was really cool. That was really nice. I watched the video; it was pretty surreal. I don’t know how I’d feel if I was from Croydon, but probably pretty hyped. That’s probably the first time Croydon has been shouted out at an awards ceremony ever, so yeah, big up Skrillex.

You’re primarily known as one of the foremost exponents of dub techno, though you’ve also released highly acclaimed ambient albums and further back than that I understand you were involved in more industrial sounds. Can you give us an idea of how you got involved in music in the first place and some of the artists who influenced you?

Rod Modell: Ever since I was a child, I was always unhappy with mainstream sounds. As long as I can remember, I hated everything on the radio. In fact, sometimes I wonder if I’m a music lover or a music hater. I’m still really not sure, because I can’t stand music that is too musical [or] structured. I think I like listening to sounds better than songs. One well-designed sound can be more emotive than 100 songs. When we hear musical structure, the brain understands it is music and processes it as such, but a good sound bypasses this analytical module of the brain and plugs directly into the psyche. We hear it, but don’t have to listen. So I like to design sounds rather than music. I don’t really view what I do as songs. So because of that, I’m not really too influenced by musicians much. I think I’m more influenced by nature, air, water, and the night sky more than any music. I can go out into the woods at 3:00 AM, and be inspired to record new sounds. I haven’t heard music that inspired me like that in years.

I view what I make as a textural smear of sonic events that all bleed together and cause aliasing where they overlap. The actual “art form” for me is creating interesting forms of aliasing by choosing the correct textures to overlap. I was probably more influenced by the Environments series (a collection of field recordings issued by Syntonic Research, Inc. between 1970 and 1979) more than any artist. When I was a child, I would sleep to an AM radio tuned between stations. There was so much to hear in the static. Solar activity, earth noises, storms, cosmic occurrences. The static has a grain, like different wood surfaces have unique grain. This AM static was far more influential than any musical artist.

I understand you have been a big fan of field recordings. What sort of environments are your favorite to record and how do you typically apply them to a piece of music (i.e. are they left unadulterated or do you play around with them a lot)?

Big time. Actually, I haven’t really played much music in my house over the past few years. My recent in-home playlist is practically all field recordings. Music is too one-dimensional. I like field recordings made in places that I like to be. I don’t really like “middle-of-the-day beach recordings.” I like something dark, but not evil. A “soothing dark” rather than one that makes you depressed or on edge. Like hearing a night rainstorm recorded at 2:00 AM outside the apartment window in Amsterdam. Or sitting in a courtyard in Barcelona at midnight recording wind in the trees and distant voices. These recordings are erotic. The degree of processing applied depends on the situation. Sometimes they’re drenched with processing, and sometimes raw. Lately I’ve been favoring unprocessed. More pure.

You’ve recorded some amazing material with Michael Mantra. How did you first meet, and how long was it before you were making music together?

I was/am big fan of Mike’s musique concrète. He creates alien sonic landscapes with field recordings that he captured. In the mid 1990s, I was really inspired by old musique concrète, and thought Mike was producing a modern variant. I was talking to Kim Cascone on the phone around this time, and expressed my enthusiasm for Mike’s work, not realizing that Kim and Mike occasionally run into each other. On one of these run-ins, Kim informed Mike about how much I like his work, and gave Mike my phone number and address, so Mike started writing and calling, and we forged a nice friendship. Maybe after a year or so of talking, we decided to try recording something, and it worked out great (Sonic Continuum on Hypnos).

What can you tell us about your Plays Michael Mantra album?

That was a funny one. Mike released a CD called A/B on Silentes, and I was contacted about remixing this one for an A/B Remixed release. I’m not sure if Mike contacted me or Stefano [Gentile] at Silentes. I started working on this remake ofA/B, and a month later, I had music that was so drastically different from the original that it couldn’t really be viewed as a remix [or] remake. It was a totally new life form. Stefano at the label suggested we call it something other than A/B Remix since there was almost zero semblance of the original, but since Mike’s A/B influenced what I made, it seemed appropriate to credit Mike also. So Stefano suggested thePlays Michael Mantra title, and I liked it. There were other influences on that one too — trains and weather come to mind.

When did you start becoming interested in more dance floor-oriented rhythms?

I think it was when I noticed a problem with dance music that I was hearing in the mid 90s. I remember Mike Schommer and I were in a club in Detroit, and we noticed that every song started out really nice. Just a simple rhythm and bass line with some noises floating in and out. Perfect! Then some other element would fade in, then another, then another, then… the music was totally ruined at this point. We couldn’t figure out why these artists didn’t just leave well enough alone. They had a nice thing going and totally convoluted it every time. They destroyed it with too much complexity. Mike and I were interested in “trying to make a whole record sound like that beginning 45 seconds” of these other records. We wanted simple tracks that weren’t convoluted. I think this was the core premise for our experiments. Also, around this time, there were a couple records from a band called Psychick Warriors Ov Gaia (PWOG) that I thought were fascinating. I was in a record store, and picked up one of their CD’s and noticed a warning on the back saying, “This CD doesn’t contain finished songs, but rather structures for DJs,” or something similar to this effect. This was profound for me. Making sound without actually making songs? I thought this was great. So I thought, “Yes, maybe it is possible to do what I want.” Also, around this time (early 1990s), I was fascinated with the way Bandulu (from UK) were introducing dub influences into techno. I thought that when you combined dub with techno, you got something stronger than dub or techno on their own. They temper each other well.

What do you feel that making tracks in this nature offered you that your ambient material did not?

I always thought beats opened up my ambient music to a bigger, different audience. I really always considered my music to be ambient, even if it had dance beats. It was just ambient music with a pulse rather than free-form without a pulse. Not much difference to me. In fact, if you drop the kicks and hats from a DeepChord record, you still have a pretty good track. Sometimes better than with them. The beats are purely incidental. As a matter of fact, many times I made alternate versions of DC records without the beats for listening to at home. I remember a show that Steve and I did in Ghent, Belgium. It was at a club called Limonada, and was during the Resonance Festival in March 2009. We were doing a sound check before the show, and the music that we were playing was relatively “pounding,” dance-oriented material. Someone from the club came over and asked us, “Is this what you’re playing tonight? Because we asked your booking agent for a more atmospheric set.” I was totally overjoyed! I told them “no problem,” and turned down channels one through six on our mixing console (the channels containing all the rhythmic elements), and we did one of the most amazing sets ever. We used the channels containing atmospheric elements with effects and filters, and produced a soundscape of huge, weightless, billowing clouds of sound. It was religious. I mean seriously amazing without the distraction of the beats. Something happened during that set that I still can’t explain today. I think the sounds induced some sort of (positive) psychological reaction in the audience. No joke. Numerous people commented after the show, and via email later also.

How did you first meet Stephen Hitchell?

Steve was sending demos to me when I was running DC (the label) with Mike Schommer. I thought Steve’s demos were the best I got, and thought if we were to release someone other than our stuff, this would be the guy. Unfortunately, we never branched out and released music of other artists. There were plans to start a sub-label, but it never materialized. But Steve and I became friends, and talked often. At one point, the suggestion of trying to work on something together arose, and the outcome was The Coldest Season. Mike was extremely preoccupied at the time with refinishing an older home and starting a family. I tried to get him re-inspired to make music for about a year, but he had too much going on to consider it. It was around this time that Steve and I were discussing a collaboration, so the timing was perfect. One thing led to another.

Is there any difference in theory between your Echospace and cv313 monikers?

Actually, we’ve never released any information regarding the members behind cv313. It was always intended to be undisclosed. All accounts to that end are extraneous, but one night while walking around Barcelona (El Raval), Steve and I met two strung-out “characters,” and they gave us an extraordinary demo CD-R, and those guys might somehow be involved.

To some people a genre-like dub techno can end up sounding very “samey.” How do you keep things moving and interesting for both you and your listeners?

Good question. Not really sure. I think it’s intuitive rather than something clearly contrived. We try to do things a little different from album to album, but I found that any time you go into a studio with a preconceived notion of how you want things to sound, it never happens that way. I think you have to just get in there and start working, and what happens happens. Sometimes good, sometimes bad. But I think it’s important to take chances with the sound. Playing it safe, and merely repeating a tested formula over and over gets you nowhere. I’d rather take a chance and bomb rather [than] do the same thing over and over.

Many times, a reviewer will say a new release sucks because they had preconceived notions, and you were different enough to disturb what they anticipated. Half the negative reviews out there are the result of bad reviewers, not bad albums. I never read reviews anyway. I can’t be concerned why some guy doesn’t have the mental scope to comprehend someone’s art (or not). I’d rather hear a description of the work from the artist. The whole premise of music reviews is insulting anyway. It’s art, and in art, there are works that speak to you and ones that don’t. The ones that don’t are equally valid to someone else, maybe just not for the person reviewing it. I take reviews more seriously, where a reviewer describes what they’re hearing without bias, and doesn’t assign the artwork a point value.

When you’re in your studio do you ever explore music outside of the genres you’re known for?

Recently, yes. Hip-hop music a little. I think I have a unique take on hip-hop. I think a huge hip-hop artist should let me produce their next album. I’d give them something no one has ever heard before.

Are there any artists you’ve recently discovered who have really excited you?

I really haven’t been overly excited about any new releases for years. I wish I could say differently. I desperately want to be, but am having a difficult time. I guess the most interesting thing I’ve heard recently was the Mordant Music releases. I really think they are great, and have loved all of their output. Also, some Hyperdub releases. Even the Hyperdub releases that don’t move me immediately are still obviously brilliant and unique. Some of their releases are unlike anything I’ve ever heard, and that seems an impossible accomplishment in 2012.

There’s an obvious debt to the likes of Maurizio in your Echospace and Deepchord productions, but are there some less obvious influences in these records too?

I think influence seeps out in mysterious ways. No artist with integrity consciously copies another artist, but we all tend to regurgitate things that have influenced us over the years. It’s a natural process. I don’t think there is a single artist who hasn’t. It’s never ending. People always say, “It sounds like this,” or, “It sounds like that.” Most of the time, they are showing their ignorance when they do that. I remember when Nitzer Ebb released That Total Age in the 80s. I bought a copy and thought it was good, but I had a few friends that said it sucked because it was a blatant DAF ripoff. It never ends. People have to liken new music to something that already exists or else they can’t wrap their head around it. To me all rock and roll sounds the same. But to someone who’s really intelligent about rock, there are vast differences from release to release. I can’t comprehend the differences because I don’t understand rock. Likewise, people who say one electronic artist sounds like another electronic artist maybe doesn’t comprehend the subtleties in the music.

I really don’t see myself as a musician, so I’m not really influenced by music or musicians. When I’m sitting with a bunch of musicians, even electronic musicians in Berlin or whatever, I think, “What the fuck am I doing with these people? We have nothing in common, and really don’t have anything to discuss with these guys.” Probably my least favorite subject to talk about in the universe is synthesizers and studio gear. But if I’m sitting with a sculptor, painter or glass blower, I can talk for hours and feel like I’m in the correct company. I just use audio material to create my art rather than paint or clay. But it’s strange how I feel more a part of this group rather than a group of musicians. Maybe because I went to art school after high school. But I find that my soundscapes are much more interesting when an “arrangement” is influenced by a photograph or statue rather than other recorded media. These sort of non-musical influences are more inspirational to me than any recorded sounds.

What can you tell us about your most recent DeepChord album, Hash-Bar Loops? What relevance does the loops in the title have?

“Loops” refers to audio loops. For the most part, all electronic music is composed of loops that are created by the artist using drum machines, and sequencers (or audio loopers like Oberheim Digital Echoplex and Electrix Repeaters, in my case). I called the loops on this project “Hash-Bar Loops” mainly because I was staying in Amsterdam for several weeks, and recorded this album in that environment. I had a couple friends that enjoyed hash, and spent a lot of time with them. When I was trying to name the project, I kept thinking back to Amsterdam, my friends, the craziness going on etc, and “Hash-Bar Loops” just seemed appropriate. I liked the sound of it. These were the loops that were continuously repeating in my apartment during those several weeks in Amsterdam. I was making atmospheric backdrops to relax to rather than consciously recording an album. Then at some point, I collected all the fragments [and] loops, and thought they all flowed nicely, and decided to make them a unified whole. Maybe that album sounds differently because of this.

For me, it’s a sonic photo album. It’s the place that I feel the most comfortable of anywhere I’ve been. I feel like I’m home when in Amsterdam. Ten times more than Michigan. I had an apartment there in the center, on the Singel Canal. I would often put a small WAV recorder on the windowsill of my apartment, and record out the window, almost exclusively during the middle of the night. Voices, bikes passing, boats going down the canal. These “windowsill recordings” are in the background of Hash-Bar Loops almost start to finish. Sometimes quite low, but almost always there.

What can you tell us about the mix you’ve put together for us?

I think I pay more attention to the atmosphere in a mix rather than the beats. I just like a laid-back groove rather than danceability, I think. Maybe more “head music” rather than “feet music.” I just start picking out tracks that seem important to me at the time I start a mix, and it can vary greatly from day to day. This one, though, is spacious and relaxed, I think.

What can we expect from the many sides of Rod Modell over the next year?

Actually, lots going on, but too soon to really discuss some of it. Some new DeepChord material is nearly done, and Steve and I have been working on some new Echospace material also. Also, I’ve been preoccupied with video lately. I’ve filled up several hard drives with high-def video in the last couple years. I will be presenting a massive video installation piece, projected on ten video screens in Naut Humon’s (touring) CineChamber sometime in 2012 also.

Interview

Growing up in Bern, Switzerland, what were sort of some of your first either clubbing experiences or experiences with electronic music that got you really interested in it?

We used to hang out at this little spot in our, like — I grew up in this village just outside of Bern and there was this youth club sort of thing, and we used to play hip-hop there in the beginning. There was this one guy who would always travel to London and stuff and get the new records. So he played me some of that Todd Terry stuff, some early hip-house stuff. I guess that was the first time when I heard something electronic or 4/4 beats-oriented. Yeah, but it wasn’t until this E-Dancer track that I always quote, the “Pump The Move” thing. That really, that won me over totally. That’s so good.

Yeah, and sort of how old were you at this stage?

I’m always trying to recall, but I must have been, like — it must have been ’93 or ’92. I’m not too sure about that. So I would have been 16? Roughly. 15, 16, yeah.

Cool, so did you get into DJing fairly soon after that?

Yeah, yeah. I was kind of a bedroom DJ for a while, and trying to imitate my hip-hop idols and stuff, trying to scratch. But I only had one MK1200, and had to do with the — first I just had a tape deck as a second leg, and then later on I got a belt drive, but the second one only got in when I was 16 or 17 or something like that.

Looking back, are you glad to have come up in that time where DJing back then, especially, was quite different than it is now in terms of everything was vinyl based and there was such an emphasis on learning how to mix and become a DJ in that sense?

Yeah. First of all, you had to learn the basics of how to beat match, and it was a technical approach in the beginning, you know? So I think that’s really helped me to go through that sort of school, and I find it rather — I find it too bad that these days, anyone can just start DJing and can match records, without having any experience or anything like that. I also think that in terms of music selection and stuff, that doesn’t really help because, you know, it’s just too easy. You don’t have to work on it, you don’t have to practice. You can just get started on the fly, and I think that sort of experience, it shows that that’s really missing for some of the DJs that are starting out.

So when you started to produce records, was that a natural evolution for you? Were you thinking at all in terms of having a career as a DJ and perhaps as a producer, that had to be the next step?

It wasn’t really like a business plan or anything like that. It’s more like I was just intrigued by the idea that I could do this sort of music that I liked so much myself; and because a friend of mine had some equipment the obstacles weren’t so high because I didn’t have to buy equipment and stuff. So yeah, I could use his equipment and he taught me some basics of Cubase, and we had a Juno-106 as well. So that was pretty much it, though. We just started fooling around with it, and later on when I opened a record shop, I also made some money, finally, and was able to buy some equipment for myself: a sampler and a little mixing table. It kind of took off from there and also through the record shop that I used to own, I got to know this guy Stefan Riesen, who used to run Axodya Records back in the day, and he runs Morris/Audio now. You might have heard of that?

Yeah, yeah.

Yeah. But him and Marco Repetto were kind of the pioneers of techno in Bern, and so he gave me the opportunity to release a track on his label. So that was the beginning, pretty much.

Oh, cool. What was the name of the record store that you owned?

It was called Tronix.

OK, cool. Excellent. And how long did you have that for?

Just two years, I’m afraid. We didn’t go bankrupt, but it just didn’t pay off anymore. We had to close.

Okay, so in terms of your own productions, I know a lot of your earlier material was hard looped techno. What equipment were you using?

It was mainly this setup: the Juno-106, I actually could take it over from my friend because he eventually became a, how do you say? A PC pro. Like, he got hired by a company and got this major job and stuff. So he gave me the Juno-106 and I bought this sampler I told you about, the Yamaha A3000. And so it was mainly samples and then a bit of the Juno-106, and that was it.

So I noticed through your discography that, obviously there’s been a growth and evolution in your sound and that sort of thing, but also distinct changes in the way you’ve made music. Is that just you growing as a producer, or is that an equipment-based thing as you got better equipment?

Well, I think the equipment’s always just a second step. You can do anything with any equipment, pretty much. You kind of need some sort of basics, but you can do so much with just a sampler, or just a Juno, or whatever you have at hand. I think the music evolution is more a sort of natural progression, if you want to say that, because over the years, you’re always into different sorts of music and I think it’s normal that you are influenced by anything that you listen to, that you’re exposed to. And yeah, so I think the musical evolution more comes from outside factors, whereas the equipment, it’s just a way to enable you to make what you have in your head. I always try to get as close as possible to what I have in my head. But sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t, you know?

Yeah, yeah. Because having heard your records over the years, there’s definitely been shifts in your styles and that sort of thing, and you know, in the last few years especially, you’re really embracing house music more, I guess as you’re getting a little bit older, maybe…

[laughs] Maybe that reason too.

Maybe it is, you know you feel like making something a little bit more mellowed out sometimes. And even on your EP for Jerome Derradji’s label, Stilove4Music, making really deep-house records.

But I used to make kind of jazz-influenced stuff ages ago already on Compost Records, I don’t know if you know that.

Oh, no.

I had another project that’s called Procreation.

Oh, OK. I didn’t know that.

So yeah, I always had that side as well, but I think these two production approaches, like, the more musical side and the more heavy, beat-oriented, loop-style techno kind of stuff, kind of came closer together, and yeah, you can maybe, sometimes you can hear it in my beats still. There’s still a lot of pumping beats, but now it’s more melodic and slower in tempo and stuff. So I guess the two projects just came closer together over the years. When you release a record, there’s always one or two years before that in terms of, you’ve already been in the process of changing over, but the people then think, “Oh wow, this record is so different,” because they didn’t really realize the evolution that you go through in your studio. Because, yeah, they only see when it’s released.

And I guess especially when you have — like a few years ago you had some huge tracks that did really well, almost crossing over, and I guess for a lot of people, there will be these spikes where people suddenly take notice of you again if they haven’t heard from you in a while.

That’s true, yeah. They might have been unaware of me for two, three years of whatever, and then my record is doing well again, they are surprised that it’s changed so much.

Yeah. With that in mind, have you ever thought, you’ve been using the name Deetron for so long and people change their names so they’re not always associated with their past, have you ever thought that that would help you in terms of certain releases so people don’t think, “Oh, this is a Deetron track; it’s going to sound like something I may have heard five, or six, 10 years ago”?

Yeah. I mean it could be to get people to listen to the tracks without, like, a pre-mindset or something like that because they expect the Deetron-whatever sound, or whatever it might be. But I think in recent years, definitely since the release of the album [Twisted] in 2006, I kind of went left and right in terms of styles. Like you said, the Jerome Derradji release and lots of vocal remixes for Osunlade and stuff like that. Tt’s also like [when] I listen to music, I can’t really just listen to one genre or I couldn’t make music in just one style, you know. It wouldn’t really be attractive for me so I think people have to get used to not expecting too many similar things coming from me.

Yeah. I know a lot of producers I’ve spoken to, no matter how they start out, whether they are making very hard techno or whatever sort of style, at some point it seems they want to embrace more of, I guess, the musicianship behind production. Do you ever use organic instruments or anything like that?

Yeah, just guest musicians, really, and my father plays the double bass; he’s a classical musician in the Bernese Symphony Orchestra, and he plays some jazz also so sometimes I sample him. I had Paul Randolph from Detroit, who you might know of, I had him play the bass line for a new track, which is coming out soon. So it’s just guest musicians. I’m working with a clarinetist at the moment as well. I find it really exciting to work with other people, also with vocalists and musicians and stuff. It kind of broadens my horizon, and gives a lot of input as well.

So when you’re working with other musicians like this, have you already thought about the part that they’ll play? Or are you just asking them to jam on top of what you’ve got already?

It really depends. Like in the case of this bass line track, I had the bass line written already, like the basic sort of bass line, I wrote it on — well, I played it on my piano — but I just needed a good bass sound so I sent this over [to Paul Randolph], and he played it for me. Pretty much similar, but then he did some licks and adds and stuff. He made it much more lively. But in other cases, I just send the track over and tell the people to do whatever they want to. And then when I get the stuff back, I edit it. I edit the stuff and add effects or whatever.

In terms of your career to date, I’m sure it’s gone through many different points of growth and things like that, but for you, with your understanding of music and your abilities as a producer, what would you say have been some of the defining moments for you in your career?

That’s a bit tough to say, but the first EP that also worked really well for me and I think finally I had found the sort of style and sound was the EP I released on Intec, and that was in 2001, I think. There’s this track on there, “Don’t You Know Why,” that Derrick [May] picked up on, and Jeff [Mills] and stuff so it got played by a lot of people, and that was really good for my profile as well. So I think that was kind of the first step that I made. And then in 2006, the Twisted album, that for sure. I was really working a long time on that, and when it finally got finished, I was happy. It did considerably — it did pretty well. And in recent times, there’s been remixes that I’ve been particularly happy with. Like the one I did for Ezel, I don’t know if you’re aware of that. It’s on a sub-label of Yoruba. A guy called Carlos Mena runs it. And yeah, that’s pretty much it.

I actually just discovered your remix you did for Miguel Migs recently, which is really incredible. How did you come to do that or how did he approach you?

Well, he must have heard some of my remixes and just sent me an email. I really like the vocals because they’re really sweet and soft and soulful. I really wanted to add a bit of a kick to it so I did this rather rough bass line with a Roland JX-8P that I have. I think some people were surprised by the really heavy kick drum, but I made a point to do a really, really heavy kick drum, just to give an, kind of an anti… antidote? To the really mellow vocal kind of things.

With remixes like that, when you’ve got someone who’s produced a straight-up house record, knowing that you can make a house track or a techno track, do they come to you and just give you free reign to do whatever you like, or does the original artist ever say, “This is kind of the thing we’re looking for”?

They kind of try to give you instructions and stuff sometimes, but I ignore it, pretty much, because they kind of know what sort of remixes I do, so they sort of know what to expect, in a way. And I found it funny that they mention certain tracks that they really like and stuff. They try to push you in a certain direction, but I don’t get influenced by that at all. So far no remixes have been turned down so I’m lucky from that point of view. [laughs]

Oh, that’s good. Can you tell us a little bit about your Balance mix that you did, incorporating digital and vinyl into one?

At my gigs, I always play vinyl and I also bring CDs, and the thing is I make a lot of edits of tracks at home and vocals and a cappellas and stuff, so I really wanted to show that side of DJing as well. It’s like almost sort of a production sort of approach to DJing, and I really wanted to showcase that on one of the CDs. With the two-CD format it was just perfect to have a strictly analog mix and a digital mix, you know? And then for the vinyl mix, I even cut the exclusive tracks on dubplates so that it’s really vinyl only, and that was really fun to do, as well.

So basically, when you play CDs is that because of these edits you’ve made and perhaps new promos and things like that that you’ve got?

Yeah, because I think the last time I got a promo on vinyl was, like, five years ago or something.

Yeah, it’s sad; you don’t get them anymore.

[laughs] Yeah, it’s really sad, but I’m happy to buy any vinyl, and usually when I get stuff on promo and it’s really good stuff, I play it, as long as it’s not released on vinyl, from CD, and then I usually buy the vinyl as well. The advantage of playing vinyl, as well, is that nowadays lots of releases are coming out just vinyl exclusive, and lots of people who are playing digital are not really aware of these things. I find that a really big advantage as well. But the main point about me, the reason why I play vinyl is the kind of physical approach of vinyl. You can grab it, you have a cover and everything. It’s just because I DJ quite quickly, I change songs quickly and stuff. It’s easier for me to find the right records to play and stuff. Even with the CDs I get confused sometimes, finding the right tracks.

Yeah, definitely. There’s just that thing of flicking through the records and knowing which track you’ve got.

Yeah, it’s amazing. I’m trying to think if someone could come up with an iPad app for Serato or something that could have the record box feel, but it could never the same.

Yeah, not quite. At the moment are there any really interesting projects you’ve got on the go? I mean I know you’re saying you’re working with a clarinetist at the moment. But yeah, have you got any other — ?

Like more concrete stuff that’s about to release, you mean?

Yeah.

I actually finished this track with Andy Butler, finally, which I was working on for a long time. It just took much longer than I expected because it took a long time for him to send the vocals, and then I kind of had them sit around on my computer for a while because I was working on so many remixes last year. And I finally got to finish it two weeks ago. That should be released fairly soon. I got Jamie Jones for a remix as well and Ripperton. But that’s going to be, I don’t know how and when exactly, but it should be before the summer and on Music Man. And other than that, not too much concrete stuff. There’s remixes coming out this week, I think on Hot Creations for an act called PBR Streetgang. And another one, I’m working on one for Candi Staton, if you remember her.

Oh, yeah.

Yeah, Defective licensed a track of hers so I was quite surprised. And I’m doing a remix for that.

So is this a new track of hers?

I think it’s an old-ish track. It’s a house track, basically, and yeah, I can’t really find it on the internet. It’s called “Hallelujah Anyway.” In terms of lyrics, it’s pretty gospel-ish, as a lot of her stuff is. But the vocals are so good. I really had to do that one, and I’m doing another one for this act called Noir from Norway. He had this big Solomun remix last year you might have heard of. And other than that, that’s pretty much it.

Well hey, that’s quite a lot to have on your plate. What about album-wise? Is that something that interests you, to do another album?

Yeah, for sure. I just keep, I kept announcing it and delaying it so I’m really careful with that right now. I just don’t say anything about any album anymore. It will be released at some point, but I really can’t say when.

When it happens, it happens.

That’s it, yeah.

Actually, you’ve got so many remixes you’ve done and I’m sure you must get hit up to do remix work so often, do you ever find that that gets in the way of doing your own tracks? I’m not sure how producers generally feel about it, if they’re happier doing their own music or if they’re quite happy doing a hell of a lot more remixes.

Yeah. Well, it definitely gets in the way for your own productions because it’s always like you give a track away, sort of. Most of the times, anyway. You have a starting point, that’s why I almost only accept vocal remixes right now, because I need something to work with. If you give me a techno track to remix, it’s like there’s not even a point, really, to do a remix. I’m more tempted to do stuff that has vocals or like Candi Staton or anything like that that’s a little bit more across other genres, so to speak. I did so many remixes last year I did hardly any of my own tracks. So I really want to change that this year, and that’s why I just — I get remix requests on a daily basis, but I can’t do any more. Because I still have two to finish right now, or three. And at the same time I want to finish another single and stuff. You know, I don’t work extremely fast.

In general how long will it take you to produce a track?

It really depends. Maybe, I would say between one and two weeks until it’s really finished. Because I start with something and then it doesn’t really work out, and I change things, and I let it sit for a while, take it back, and then finish the arrangement, or I keep adding stuff. And then I mix down still with an analog mixer so every time I change the settings I sort of have to start over again. It’s a long process.

So sometimes you end up scrapping everything that you’ve got just because you’ve got one new sound coming in or something as well.

Yeah, that’s totally how it is. I make a new sort of bass line, and everything else doesn’t fit anymore so it has to go.

Nice. Now what can you tell us about the mix that you’ve done for us?

Yeah, well, there’s quite a lot of this sort of — I don’t know how to describe it, but there’s a lot of UK stuff on there. Like Scuba and Floating Points and that sort of stuff, but it’s essentially, it’s techno and house, I think, but with this sort of influence that I’m really interested in — this stuff coming from the UK. Really like Joy Orbison and all these people. It’s just sort of a fresh sort of touch to techno, I think, which is really welcome.

2011 seemed like a really big year for you guys.

Eamon Harkin: Yeah, it was a big year for us. I think a big part of that is the fact that we returned to this spot in Gowanus [Grove] for our outdoor party. And we had a really great run of 16 parties. Well, maybe 13 or 14 because we lost a few with rain. And that was great; we got a lot of momentum from that. A lot of people really loved that party and came out. One of the big themes for us this year was doing parties by ourselves and not having guest DJs. That was a purposeful strategy because that’s how we want to grow and develop the party, but also ourselves as DJs. That’s where we want to take the party. And it really worked.

Justin Carter: Yeah, because parties that are all about a guest are often really just vehicles for a guest. And of course we appreciate all the people who come and play with us, and we still bring in guests, and were not going to stop doing that — at least any time soon. When a party has a guest every single time, though, it can become a stage for someone else. And the whole reason we started the party in the first place was because we’re DJs, and we wanted to play records. And so we saw that there was an appreciation for us as DJs when we were playing alongside guests, and we also saw that we needed to start using this thing that we developed as a stage. We had this mission to really make the party into a party. Something that had it’s own identity, instead of having the identity of the guest. Mister Saturday Night has become this thing that has an identity in and of itself and isn’t about who’s playing — it isn’t even necessarily about Eamon or me. It’s just this thing that happens, that now it has a life of it’s own.

EH: And that’s the goal of the party: for it to be a party, to be a community. To be a thing in itself, to have a life of it’s own. So if there’s a guest there, the guest is a guest, rather than a headliner. He, or she, adds musical variety. There are some parties across the globe that do that well, and I think we achieved something similar this year. That’s been the most satisfying thing.

Is there any party in particular that stood out to you?

JC: You know, it’s funny because it was probably the least-attended party of the whole year. There was a string of crazy rain that happened in August, and there was one day where the party got cancelled because it looked like it was going to be torrential. And then it wasn’t torrential. So we were sitting at home looking outside at a beautiful sky, and then the next Sunday we were like, “We’ve got to do the party no matter what.” The weather forecast was awful, and ended up being awful just like it said it was going to be. I think maybe 150 to 200 people came. That was one of those moments where we realized that there are still people that will come out to see us in a crazy downpour and have an amazing time. It was an incredible party.

The party has taken place in a handful of venues. What do you look for in potential spaces?

EH: First and foremost we look for something that’s comfortable. The commonality among all the spaces is that they all have wooden floors. That’s really important for a dance floor, for us. We want it to feel warm, we don’t want it to feel like a reverberating warehouse. We want it to be a kind of place where you would want to hang out. And you can be social, but you can also just get on the dance floor and get on with it. 12-turn-13 definitely has that; it’s almost a legendary venue in New York at this point. House of Yes definitely has it, and the place on Scholes Street had it as well, to a certain degree.

JC: I think another thing that we look for is a positive relationship with whoever is in charge of a space. We continue to have a very good relationship with all three of those places. The people who run those spaces are reasonable, smart, creative people who are not trying to angle on you at all. They’re just really good people to work with.

EH: Which kind of comes back to what we’re all about in the first place, which is an experience, you know? And a community-based experience that is about people interacting and music. You don’t get that unless every person involved is in line with that vision, and unless you’re in a space that facilitates that.

What parties in the past have influenced the way you approach the Mister Saturday Night parties?

JC: Well, the first party that I went to in New York, period — before I knew anything about parties or DJs at all — was Body and Soul. I just went there because a guy on the hall in my dorm, he had an older boyfriend who was part of this old-time club scene, so literally the first Sunday that I was in New York City I went to Body and Soul. The elements that made that party so good were, of course, the music and the sound system, but really there was this great cross section of people. It felt like a real community, so that’s definitely an influence. It’s not like every time we think about our party we’re thinking about how we can make it more like Body and Soul or whatever Eamon’s influences are. That’s just what my original experience of a party was, and what a great experience for that to be. I don’t really have any nostalgia for raves or that side of dance music. I don’t really have any nostalgia at all. The only thing that I really knew in the beginning was Body and Soul, and so I think that probably just naturally has an influence on me.

EH: Years ago I was living in London, and my entry point into DJ culture was through post punk and indie music, basically. I think that the initial influences on me, and really what turned me on to DJs, were people like Optimo and Erol Alkan, when he was doing his Trash party in London. My sister was living in Glasgow at the time, so I’d go and see her and go to Optimo, and then when I was student I’d go to Trash. And those, for me, were great because it was the kind of music that I was more accustomed to at the time, and they were also communities — that’s the thing I’ll always come back to. It’s kind of rising above and beyond just the music or the club.

JC: Was Trash heavily focused on guests?

EH: No. Well, they were parties. That’s the thing: a party can’t become a party if it’s always about guests. Because you have no continuity. Right? And so the continuity comes from people pushing their vision on a continual basis. At Trash you’d hear Erol Alkan play great obscure indie records at the time. I’ve become slightly disillusioned with where Erol Alkan’s taken his aesthetic since then, but I really respect where he came from and what he did. And similarly for Optimo, and Optimo continued to be a huge influence. We’re going to play there at the end of the month in Glasgow. And we played last year, and that was just a really exciting moment, to be asked to go out there and play. So I wasn’t, like, in the rave scene in the UK or Ireland, so the influences from a party perspective kind of finish there, to be honest.

How did you guys get into house music and start DJing?

EH: Well, for me it was one of my oldest friends at college; we were in London, right? There are lots and lots of record stores, lots of parties, just lots of music going on. We were living together, so we just started buying tons of records. We used to play these fairly small little hip-hop parties; we just kind of fueled our love of music doing that. And that was around the same time I was going up to Glasgow and going to Trash and all that — I was still kind of an indie guy. Then I moved to New York. Do you remember a party called Motherfucker?

No

EH: So there was lots of parties downtown in New York which were based around rock and roll, and Justine D was a big figure. I was operating in those circles, and I got — Motherfucker was actually would another party that would be some sort of inspiration. What attracted me to that was the fact that it was downtown New York. I was besotted with the history of downtown New York, and I wanted to follow it, whatever the current version of it was. It was a really interesting party. They had Hot Chip play there, they had ESG play there, they had The Cramps and the New York Dolls play there. I got to play Motherfucker three times, which was pretty amazing as the party was huge and a true New York melting point of different types of people. But you know, I started to get bored of hearing guitar music at these parties, and wanted to hear more beat-driven stuff, so I started to seek out house and techno parties. Justine D, who was running those parties, became the musical director at Studio B and brought me on board as a resident, and we were doing parties there that were quite wide ranging in music. That was around the time that Justin and I met for the first time and started working together.

JC: For me, I just grew up with a dad who was really into music. He was a musician, he continues to be a musician, he plays the guitar, he’s been playing guitar for, I don’t know, 45 years or something like that at this point. And he also had a big record collection. So I spent a lot of time in the car with him, growing up. He had a big tape collection as well, and so we’d just listen to music all the time. It was just a natural progression for me to grow a record collection (it was a CD collection at first). I also was playing music a lot. I was a guitar player and a singer and a songwriter through junior high school and high school and into college. And after college, I kind of stopped playing music as much and writing my own music as much. Around the same time I found myself saying something along the lines of “There’s no good new music,” and as I said it I knew that it wasn’t true. I decided that I would start to go to Other Music and a few other stores in the city and just educate myself, or let the record store clerks educate me because I knew that there was a ton of music out there that I didn’t know anything about. So I just started buying records, and I just bough my own turntables and played records in my bedroom for six months. It wasn’t long before I started DJing out.

How did you two start working together?

JC: Eamon just sent me an email, because Eamon’s very proactive, and he was like, “Hey, we should meet.” And we went and met for a donut at Peter Pan up in Greenpoint, and we just became friends through that — fast-forward a little while and we were doing Sunday Best together. And… well — actually, you tell the story about APT.

EH: So Justin was organizing a residency for Afrika Bambaataa. So he asked me and Lindsey Caldwell to be the other DJs. So we did this weekly party with Bambaataa where I would open, Bambaataa would arrive with is entourage, and I would quickly get out of the DJ booth before Bambaataa came in because APT had this tiny little DJ booth, and if Bambaataa came in, there’s no way you were getting out — he was a big man. The party didn’t last very long because Bambaataa had a touring schedule, and –

JC: Honestly, it just wasn’t that successful; it was on a Tuesday night, and nobody in New York can draw every Tuesday night.

EH: But it was fun, you know? It was pretty awesome to be playing with Bambaataa. Around the same time we started Sunday Best, which was kind of the original incarnation of what Mister Sunday was this summer.

JC: I realized in working with Eamon that there was somebody who took it as seriously as I did. Like, Eamon would respond to emails and respond to phone calls, and he treated the business of throwing parties seriously. And not to say that you’ve got to be all spreadsheet about it, but I feel like nightlife in general is something that a lot of people are drawn to because it’s so loose. But I think it’s really important when you’re running a party to be serious about presenting people with a good experience. That’s something that I saw that Eamon was committed to, so it was a very natural draw to each other once we actually started working together.

How did Mister Saturday Night start?

EH: Well, Santos Party House had opened downtown, and I think there was a genuine excitement about this club because it was a good club to begin with, and it had creative, interesting people behind it, and it portrayed itself as alternative and different. We ended up signing a deal with Santos to program every Saturday night, both floors. Justin and I would program it and run it and be residents, and then we’d also have James Friedman as a resident and Twilite Tone, who Justin had been DJing with as well. Justin came up with the name “Mister Saturday Night,” and that’s how we started.

JC: Which Eamon wasn’t so excited about in the beginning.

EH: No, I felt it was a little too jazz hands. But so we did it from January to May. However, our dreams of having this really great relationship with the people at Santos were dashed, to be honest. And at the point, you know, I’d worked at Studio B, I’d worked at Love, Justin had worked at APT, we’d worked at Santos, Water Taxi Beach. We’d all kind of had these experiences of having to work with people who didn’t share our vision. And frankly, to be honest, didn’t really have any vision for nightlife — who just seemed to be business people who were in a business that they didn’t understand. Which to me — it’s kind of like opening a restaurant and not having any vision for what you’re putting on the menu.

JC: Or not having any real passion for it at all. I would like to say, though, that there are so many people involved in Santos that I don’t want it to seem to anybody that we’re bashing all the people that are involved in Santos. There are some really, really great people that are still involved with that place as owners, as partners, and they still have a good vision for that place. But there are forces that are larger than the ambitions of a few creative people in a big organization that made that place untenable for us to do parties.

EH: So we had to leave. Oh no, to be fair, they kicked us out.

JC: Because we weren’t drawing more than 800 people a night.

EH: They needed substantial crowds to pay rent. After that we just wanted to take the entire operation experience into our own hands and start afresh, and that was really the beginnings of the party as we know it now.

JC: We really said, “Alright, enough with clubs, enough with these places that don’t have the same vision that we have. We need to go to other kinds of places.” And around that time, we found out that Todd P at Market Hotel was willing to host dance parties and appeared to appreciate what we did. So we started to do Mister Saturday Night there. And that was really the beginning of Mister Saturday Night as it exists now.

How has it changed since then?

EH: We’ve developed a community. You see the same faces coming through, you see those faces interacting with each other, as a result of being at the party, and we interact with them as well. We’ve seen it grow and evolve. We’ve seen groups of people come for, like, nine months at a time and move on. We’ve all got busy lives and we’re moving around, but seeing that evolve is really satisfying.

JC: I feel like we’ve gotten a little bit tighter in our execution of things. You know, we — in the beginning when we were at Market Hotel, we did –

EH: Ugh, everything. We were bringing subwoofers upstairs at like six o’ clock before the party, and killing our backs.

You guys bought all the beer and all that?

JC: Yeah, yeah. Everything.

EH: Everything. Now we can show up at, like, 9:30, and it’s all set because we’ve got a team of people.

JC: A great sound team, a great lighting team, a great bar team. It’s all set up. This is something else that’s really satisfying — it’s not like we’ve handed these things off, and we hope that it goes well. We’ve handed these things off in a way where everything fits in with our vision. That’s a huge, huge thing to be able to say. Our sound guys are just, like, so on it. And Jeff, who does our lighting — every time we show up, it’s simple, but it’s special, and it’s warm feeling. He does such a good job. And our bar staff tells us when something needs to be changed or when something needs to be ordered.

EH: And our security guy tells everybody that walks through the door, “Welcome to Mister Saturday Night.” You know? He gets it. We’ve worked with him the entire time. It takes time to build that, but it’s quite amazing that we’ve gotten to that point in two and a half years.

Do you guys think you would ever consider going back to a club?

JC: Yes.

EH: Yeah. I still have a very soft part of my heart for, like, the clubs, you know? Like, there are the places that are the kind of “cathedrals” in the world where people go to. It pains me that New York has lost those. It really does.

JC: It’s not that a good club can’t exist. We’re going to play at Plastic People at the end of this month, and that is a club that totally gets it right. They have great security people at the door. I was talking to somebody Plastic People the other day, and they said to me, “You know, the first time I was there, I paid too much money at the bar, and I walked away and I didn’t know it, and a couple of minutes later, one of the bartenders had walked through the crowd over to me and tapped me on the shoulder to hand me my change.” Which amounted to, like, two pounds or something like that. It wasn’t a big thing, but they care so much. The people who run the place care, and the sound system is good — not because they want to be show-off-y about it, but because they actually care about how good it sounds. If somebody opened a place like that in New York, we would be there in a second because there are a lot of things that are a real pain about doing what we do in the way that we do. So if we could move it into a regular club, no doubt about it, we would do it.

EH: I admire Berghain, I admire Panorama Bar, I admire Fabric. I admire those clubs that have a vision from the top down, and then everything else is just putting the components in place to make it happen. That’s not what I’ve ever experienced in New York. The people that own the clubs, the people that are signing the checks are people that don’t know anything about music.

JC: And there are exceptions to that. I mean Cielo was started by Nicolas Matar, who’s a DJ, and there’s still good stuff that happens there. The tragic thing about that place is that it’s in the meatpacking district.

EH: That kind of proves my point: the reason it’s been successful is it had that consistent vision the entire time. Not a guy that’s sitting there that doesn’t understand what’s happening in his club, beating people up because they’re not bringing people in.

Eamon, tell me a little bit about your productions.

EH: Well, Steve [Raney] and I started working together about — I’d say about two years ago. Up until that point, I’d done some edits, and I released a 12? on Wurst, just when they were an edit label. We started sending stuff to James [Friedman] because he was an old friend, as James was kind of reinvigorating Throne of Blood. And it kind of went from there. The nice reaction we got was just really satisfying. The process of writing something yourself from scratch and putting it out there is actually quite frightening, because you live with it and you have no idea whether it’s good or bad. I mean you have an inkling, but even, like, playing those tracks was kind of a bit of a leap of faith. But to be able to dip into your bag and pull out a record that you’ve made, just as natural as your pulling out another record because you’ve built that confidence, was really satisfying this year.

Or to see Levon Vincent pull it.

EH: Yes. Yeah. That was pretty awesome it’s well. I really want to spend more on it — I’ve got an EP coming out in a month on Throne of Blood as well. Justin and I are starting a label this year. We’ve got our first 12? signed, possibly our second.

JC: Not “signed,” but we just got an email last night from this guy, who sent us a really, really nice track.

EH: So we’re working on a remix for the first 12? together, a Mister Saturday Night remix. And I have about half a dozen tracks that I just need to get mixed and get out there. So yeah, it’s a completely different thing trying to create music. We’re really keen to get the label up and running this year as well and see where that goes. We want to get more into production and putting music out and contributing something to the musical landscape above and beyond events.

JC: I think it’s a natural progression from us throwing parties, to release music. Eamon is fully immersed in producing music. I am not a producer, but I write music, and it’s a really important thing to me. I think both of us kind of want a potential vehicle for ourselves and a potential vehicle for the people that we have relationships with, whether that’s the people who are coming to the party, who are sending us music because they like the party and what it’s about, or if it’s people who are coming to DJ the party. We haven’t decided exactly what it’s going to look like — all we know at this point is that we’ve got two people who are sending us music that we are really excited about, who haven’t sent music to anybody else that we know of, and we’ll see where it goes after that.

Justin, you alluded to your own productions. How is that going?

JC: Yeah, so I co-wrote and sang on a Great Weekend track that was released on Wurst. But other than that, I grew up writing music, like I said before, and it’s funny: as I started to DJ, I stopped writing and stopped playing my guitar and singing as much. I always kind of assumed that at some point there would be this bolt of lightning that would strike, and it would inspire me to write that album’s worth of material that I always wanted to write. About a year and a half ago that I realized that that wasn’t going to happen, that I just needed to sit down and work, and create a schedule for myself that says, “You will write music five times a week for an hour a day.” That’s what I’m doing right now. I just sat down two days ago and wrote down my goals for 2012, and one of those goals is to finish writing and record a full album’s worth of material that may be released this year, but will definitely be released by next year. Cross your fingers that I can realize that, but it’s a real ambition of mine.

Where do you guys diverge as DJs?

JC: Let’s do it like this: I will tell you what I think Eamon’s style is, and I’ll let Eamon tell you what he thinks my style is. I think Eamon is very informed by where he grew up and where his formative years learning about music were spent. There is a much more austere quality to the dance music that took hold in Europe. You know, when I think of the origins of dance music in Europe, I think of bands like New Order, I think of clubs like Ministry of Sound. I think of, like, a dance music that’s less rooted in the black American experience. Even if it was inspired by that in one way or another, it’s certainly less influenced by that. When I hear Eamon play, it’s much more beat-driven music than the music that I feel like I play. I don’t know, what do you think? Feel free to disagree with me too.

EH: Ha! I think I probably would disagree. I think there’s a lot of overlap because we’ve been doing parties together for so long. I mean you’ll often find a lot of the same records in both our bags. I think where you kind of see differences is at the fringes of the party. Like, at the start of the night, Justin will often play a lot slower and play hip-hop. I love hip-hop, but I just never really choose to play it. I’d like to play, like, Philip Glass or Steve Reich — I guess that’s that austere sort of element that Justin mentioned. I definitely like things a little darker sometimes. So maybe that’s part of it. But Justin will play his dark, moody techno set often at the end of the night, you know? I think we were further apart when we started the party, and we’ve come closer together as a result.

JC: Yeah, I don’t think Eamon would have ever played, like, vocal versions of some of the house tracks that he has, but he definitely plays the vocal versions now, which is great.

EH: Yeah, possibly. I’d have played the dub or just played techno. But that’s the benefit of having a partner, and that fact that you can both grow musically by being exposed to each other’s tastes is great.

JC: How you would describe the way I play?

EH: Well, I think that you’ll sometimes play a particularly dark, moody set. Like, he was playing Tin Man records this year. I don’t even know if I would go that dark. But then he’ll play a particular type of disco that I wouldn’t necessarily reach for. It’s not like I don’t have that part of my spectrum, but there’s a happiness that sometimes comes through Justin’s set and I don’t go to that emotional part of the spectrum. I think that’s how I would best describe the difference in our styles – we both reach for certain moods which are unique to ourselves. Maybe I’m a slightly darker personality. Maybe it’s the Irish or something, I don’t know.

How do you guys keep playing together exciting?

EH: Well, Justin keeps buying all my records!!

JC: Yeah, I make Eamon have to work extra hard because I buy all of his records. It was funny — earlier this year I sent him an email, and I was like, “Dude, what was that record that you played that was black and white?” He sent me back an email saying, “I think we need to go on our own musical journeys.”

EH: I think that what’s great about a partnership where you respect each other’s musical taste is that you can learn from each other and you can challenge each other. I’ve learned a lot over the last three years because of the types of music that Justin has exposed me to, as well as the bookings. Booking is another kind of curatorial thing where I’ll bring an idea and Justin’s like, “Well, I’ve never heard of him, but let me have a look,” and vice versa. Justin was totally on the Floating Points tip way before me, and I was pretty gung-ho about bringing Rolando in. You’re on your own journeys, and you rub off on each other, so you absorb more as a partnership.

JC: Eamon is really good about how to make tracks work together; how to build a particular energy in the room. I still feel like I’m learning how to do that. That’s one way where I feel he’s influenced me in a really positive way — to think about how to build energy and not just play a good song and then another good song and then another good song. I mean I’ve always known that that was an important thing as a DJ, but hearing Eamon do that has been a real learning experience for me.

Is the fact that you guys play almost all vinyl at the party important?

JC: You know, was I thinking about this a couple of days ago. I try to be responsible about the choices that I make in general. I’m mostly a vegetarian, I try to buy things that are made in the States, for the most part, but vinyl is one way where I feel like my choices could totally be irresponsible. Because there’s a much less polluting way to do it. Vinyl is pretty toxic, and it’s creating these big plastic discs that are going to be around well beyond myself. So I was thinking the other day, “Is this the most responsible thing?” Vinyl is important for me because I have these big, physical things that I can turn around and look through. They’re like visual cues that remind me of a feeling or of what that song sounds like. That makes it easy for me to pick what my next record is going to be in a very basic way.

EH: The whole thing’s such a tactile process, and I’ve been buying records for so long that it’s just — I’ve tried Serato, I’ve tried more CDs, and it just doesn’t feel right. We don’t do it as any big statement, as part of the party. We don’t try to make a big deal out of the fact that we play vinyl; that’s just the way we started doing it. It’s a pain in the ass. Every single venue we’ve been at we’ve had to hang the DJ booth from the ceiling, and that’s a pain. But I think we’re better DJs as a result of it.

JC: Yeah, it’s just what we started with and what we continue to do. There’s definitely this nerdy kind of club that you get to be in when you play vinyl. You get to go to record stores, you get to talk to the other people who collect vinyl, and talk about how much better vinyl sounds than everything else. There’s something that’s really, really fun about that. And you know, it’s not like we are calling our party “Mister Saturday Night Plays Vinyl,” but we mention it. It’s part of what we do.

EH: I try not to be so prejudiced about it because I also try to look forward. We want to do things differently, and there is an element of vinyl culture that’s just a little bit nostalgic. I don’t want to be that. We don’t have any rule about guests not having laptops or whatever, but I think we’ve only had, like, three laptops in the booth the entire time. The guests we book tend to roll up with records. There’s a certain sensibility there.

How do you guys approach the booking?

JC: In the same way that we approach buying records. It’s purely based on who we’re excited about at a moment in time, whose music we’re playing a lot at the party. That’s really it.

EH: For the Sundays, where we book everybody in advance and we look at it as a 15-week thing, we want the entire summer to have a flow and momentum of its own.

JC: It’s kind of like programming a DJ set, in a way.

Are there any defining records of your party? Records that either always seem to find themselves getting played, or records that maybe only got played once, but produced a particularly special moment?

EH: Well, there’s a record that will be on the podcast because it was a big record for us this year. It’s “Lap The Music” by Alfabet, which is by Tom Trago [and Awanto 3]. I swear to god, every time our crowd just keels over for it. They absolutely love it.

JC: Yeah. That’s one that Eamon bought, and I was like, “What is that?” And next party I was like, “Check this record out!”

EH: Next party I’m at the bar, and there it goes, and Justin’s hands in air — “Look at my new record.” Another one is the third one of the Oni Ayhun, which is a big record for me. We played that the first Mister Sunday this year, right at the very end, and it just went bananas.

JC: Well, it kind of goes in cycles. At any given moment there could be one record that means a lot. But I’d say in 2011, for me, this Cece Peniston, with a Steve “Silk” Hurley remix on the back that I play all the time. And there’s one that I play a lot by San Soda called “Doorsnee.” It’s a little bit on that UK bass music tip. It’s got these big, crazy sub-bass melodies in it.

EH: You also played — I don’t know who did it, but it was on Philpot.

JC: Oh, that Arttu record? He released three records this year, and all of them were outstanding. Yeah, and I would play that first one every single set. Every, every single set. It’s very, like, very, very raw. Very Detroit-sounding. Very Detroit- [or] Chicago-sounding, like, you know, kind of big analog drums, very, like, spacious in its production. I don’t know.

EH: I mean there’s other ones that come to mind, like there’s a Martin Buttrich Carl Craig remix, anything by Roman Flügel, like “How To Spread Lies.” Cobblestone Jazz’s “Dump Truck,” Levon Vincent’s “Solemn Days,” the Frankie Knuckles remix of Chaka Khan’s “Ain’t Nobody,” quite a few Junior Boy’s Own records. And then there’s always a lot of Omar-S knocking around as well.

JC: Not to be forgotten: Floating Points. Every single time he comes out with a record, it gets put on regular rotation at the party. I’ve been playing “Myrtle Avenue” like crazy. When we were in London last year playing with him, after the party was over we went back to Sam [Shepherd]‘s house. We were just listening to music, and he was like, “Hey, check this out; it’s called ‘Myrtle Avenue.’ You know, like Market Hotel,” where he came and played the first gig with us. It’s such a good record.

What’s coming up in 2012?

EH: More parties — maintain the schedule. Two Mister Saturday Night’s a month. One with a guest, one without, roughly. Hopefully Mister Sunday again. There’s always — there’s probably a lot more heartache that goes in to producing Mister Sunday than most people would know, in terms of permitting and politics.

EH: That’s New York, you know? So that, and we’ll be in Chicago, London, Glasgow, Stuttgart, and Berlin. I think we’ll be out and about more this year. Also the label — just contributing to the musical landscape beyond doing events is definitely the next goal, and I think we do that through our own musical endeavors and the label.

What do you think about New York as a party-throwing city? It’s got such a history, and yet nowadays so many people have this sort of love/hate relationship with it.

JC: I love New York. I think that New York is a place where, when a party goes off, it goes off better than anywhere else that I’ve ever been. You know, people like to talk about Berlin as this dance music Mecca, but I was there for three months, and I feel like I got a pretty good lay of the land. I heard a lot of really great producers and DJs at very important venues, and I never enjoyed them as much as I have when I’ve heard them in New York. In Berlin things never close — parties can just kind of go on indefinitely. There is no beginning and no end. Michael Mayer came and played with us last year at the beginning of the Sunday series, and he said something that I think is so important: “I really love to play your party because there’s an end to it, and that’s really, really nice.” On Sundays, we’ve got a hard cut at nine o’ clock. That’s such an important part of that party. A lot of people stay, and the energy is so amazing because people know that in one hour this party is going to be done. People don’t stay even till the end on our Saturday night parties, at least not a huge group of people. We’ve got a crew — a good, like, 50 to 75 people, and it’s got it’s own specialness about it. But on Sundays it’s really amazing because people who might leave a party before it was done won’t leave because they know there’s only an hour left. You get a full-on dance floor at nine o’ clock at night, and you get to play those end-of-the-night songs to a super receptive and excited crowd.

Even though we go until six o’ clock in the morning on Saturdays, it’s different than in Berlin where you could just go on forever and ever and ever. Even if it’s just 50 to 75 people there, it still feels like, “Oh, it’s ending so there’s something special about this. We better squeeze every bit that we can out of this moment because it’s going to be done soon.” It’s kind of like when people talk about how they hate the weather in New York if they live in Florida, but the people who live in New York and have been here for a long time, will always say, “Well, I really like the seasons. I really like the fact that you get to see the seasons.” And I feel like that’s kind of what makes parties good in New York: you know that there’s something that’s finite about it. You know that it’s not always this good. You know it’s not always going to be this warm, or it’s not always going to be this cold. You know it’s not always going to be like this so you try to draw as much as you can from that particular moment because it’s going to change at some point. There are a ton of bad clubs here, and you’ve been to those bad clubs before so when you go to a good party, and it’s really, really awesome, it becomes even more awesome because in New York it doesn’t happen all the time.

EH: I mean, I’ve got a European passport; I don’t have to be here. I choose to be here because it’s rewarding. What we’ve created is really rewarding, and I really believe in it, and that’s because of what New York gives back to us. It really bums me out when I hear people talk disparagingly about the scene in New York. I actually read an interview with Juan MacLean, which angered me because he was just talking really adamantly about how bad the parties were in New York. And it was coming from a limited perspective. I don’t know what his experience is, but I know he hasn’t been to some of the parties that are great in New York. And I love Kieran Hebden to bits, and we’re friends through having booked him and stuff, but there’s this little Twitter thing that was going on this summer, and I actually kind of challenged him back. “Alright, so you had one bad gig at Public Assembly because you were booked by somebody who doesn’t give a shit about sound systems. That doesn’t mean there’s nothing good in New York.” To be fair to him, he said nice things about us, but there’s that limited perspective thing again.

JC: Well, but I think Kieran had a point. I thought what he was saying was, “Until Brooklyn gets a proper venue that can support the people who are doing the things that are vital in the community, it’s going to be an uphill battle.”

EH: I think that the people of New York who come out to the parties, really, really make the parties. I had a little bit of a residency at a place called Tape in Berlin, and I had some great gigs there, but none of them compared to the best gigs I’ve had in New York. And having lived in Europe and gone to Fabric a lot as well, there’s a real sort of dilution of energy that comes from being popular. It’s a little bit like New Year’s Eve.

JC: Yeah, that’s it, man.

EH: We benefit a little from being a bit removed from that and not having that club. It just makes for good vibes. The one thing I actually think about New York is that it’s a little fragmented sometimes. I sometimes wish there was a greater sense of community between some of the parties, but I don’t know if that’s just being too hippie of me, or whatever.

JC: You’re not going to get me complaining about people coming together and loving one another.

Tells us a bit about who you are and what you do for Smallville Records on a day-to-day basis.

Smallville is run by Julius Steinhoff and Just von Ahlefeld, also known as Smallpeople, and Pete Kersten, also known as Lawrence. Basically the Smallpeople run the everyday life at the Smallville record store: we sit in the shop to sell records, do the orders at the distributors, plan our parties and label projects from the store and pack orders from our online store. The shop is a place to hang out and meet people, to listen to and talk about music or start a track. But around Smallville is also a great gang of people who are part of it, working and helping out. It’s really a good bunch of people, like Stefan Marx, who is responsible for the complete visual side of Smallville; Jacques from Smallville Paris, who lives in Hamburg for some years now; Richard aka RVDS, who is running It’s and releasing good music, recently on Laid; Wiebke (aka Elin), who runs the party series Dear in Hamburg, Christian (aka Blessing) works in the store with us plus does the artwork for Laid; Helena Hauff is also working sometimes and is a great DJ. It also includes people like Christopher Rau and Tilman tausendfreund, who are friends and also help out if needed; and last but not least Stella, who lives in Berlin now but opened the store with us in 2005 and is a initiator and member since the very first thought about the store.

How did the Smallville record shop come about? When did you branch out with the Paris shop? And what spurred you to start releasing records?

Actually we just wanted a good spot in Hamburg, a shop and hangout. We didn’t really think about whether it would work or not, more just did it. And it worked, we’re doing good — actually better then ever before now. After six years of doing the shop, we know a bit more how everything works. We cannot offer every record that is out there and we don’t want to. We would rather take a large number of one record that we believe in to offer it in the store for a long time. We just made two people really happy a minute ago, because we still had Workshop 9.2 on stock. I guess it’s very good for the store to have a certain sound that we stand for and offer. It’s always the music we love the most, that we sell the most, even if it’s a wide range between deepest house and techno. But that is a good thing and a very important point for our good feeling in the store. The plan to release records and do a label, too, was there from the beginning — it just took a while to set up everything.

The Smallville shop in paris is run by Jacques who lives in Hamburg, but he’s doing the orders from here and visits Paris regularly. The Smallville shop there was originally initiated by Pantha Du Prince, who just stocked a lot of Dial stuff and some good records in a shop for clothes; and he found Jacques to help him out with the daily work in the shop. But meanwhile Smallville paris is integrated in another record store called ground Zero, which is cool. If you are in Paris, you should check it out at 23 Rue Sainte-Marthe, 75010 Paris — it’s nice and cosy.

For a while the label was very closely affiliated with Dial, to the point De:Bug felt it necessary to say “Smallville nicht Dial ist.” Was it difficult to establish the label as its own entity?

Well, actually not. Dial and Smallville are close together due to Pete, who co-owns both imprints, but Dial is 11 years old and smallville only six. The Smallville record store is kind of a Dial shop now, too, as we have the Dial/Laid warehouse in here. Maybe Dial and Smallville are like brother and sister in a way, but in the end still two different labels run by different people. We were not looking to divide it music-wise — this comes naturally — and it’s also natural that it’s still close together, working well with each other. But yeah, there are things in common — artists, sounds and everything — but mostly also the way we look at running a label: without any need to be functional or to fullfil any commercial purposes.

Smallville’s records are synonymous with the artwork of Stefan Marx. How was he first involved with the label and why was he chosen to visually represent the label?

Stefan is a fixed part of the Smallville family and a long-term friend of ours. He was working for Smallville since the very beginning — his first work was our small village logo and text. He’s responsible for every part of our visual body — record covers, party posters and the windows of our record store. Stella actually introduced us to Stefan before we opened the store and we were amazed by his stuff. Stefan also likes the freedom he has to do things. He also released on Smallville; Smallville 25 is from him, it’s called The Dead Sea, a three poster collection in a gatefold record sleeve. All in all, we believe it’s the best thing that could have happened to Smallville. we are very thankful to have him.

What is your A&R policy like these days? Are you mainly seeking out music from people close to you or are you open to demos? How did the Melchior & Pronsato record about?

The Melchior & Pronsato record actually just happened. We knew Bruno and Thomas before and Bruno once just told me they had two unreleased tracks and if I’d be interested to listen, as they like Smallville. Of course I was interested. We all liked the tracks, so we released them — it’s not a long story. But besides, that we must admit, we are not really listening to a lot of demos. There are just too many and unfortunately a lot of bad music that doesn’t fit at all. We got to listen to so much music every day and during the week, so we find it hard sometimes. Most of the Smallville releases came naturally through friendship and people around we knew and like or find interesting. For us it’s important to have a good feeling with the artist, too, and to be on the same wave length, doing it from the heart.

The label’s releases can generally be described as deep house music, but there have been some outliers — perhaps most notably STL’s “Silent State.” Are you looking for specific aesthetic choices to align with the Smallville sound or is it more a certain vibe you’re aiming for? Is there anything specific you won’t put out?

There is no certain aestethic we are looking for, or at least nothing that is verbalised. It’s really more the vibe, the feeling. If something fits Smallville, we will realize it quite fast.

Smallville has been around since 2006, and obviously the musical climate in house has changed a lot since then. How much do you feel the need — or even pressure — to respond to what’s popular at the moment or that year?

We don’t feel the need to respond to anything. I guess that’s important. Of course we are influenced in a way by what is around because we go to parties, clubs, places and cities, and play a lot, so that’s an influence. But not in a way to react on something “popular.”

How much input does the artists themselves have in the final product?

You mean the artwork? It is always an important step to visit Stefan Marx in his studio and to have a look at his works. After that the process comes naturally as there is a lot of inspiring stuff at Stefan’s studio. So artists can definitely take part in the process as long as they don’t want a surprise.

What is one of your favorite releases on Smallville? Why?

It’s a good feeling that we are still feeling all the releases, from the beginning until now. Standouts in terms of the label might have been the album by Move D & Benjamin Brunn, as it was out first album on Smallville. It’s really a timeless piece of music and we got a lot of so nice feedback from around the world. That was amazing to realize and it still makes us happy to see it on Smallville. We won’t forget when we first listened to it in the store. And the same with the “Silent State” track. This also got so much love from so many different camps. I still carrying it in my case wherever I play.

What are some labels, past and present, that have influenced how Smallville is run, and why?

Dial, Emphasis Recordings and FXHE! The first Omar-S records on FXHE were just coming out when we opened the record shop. We loved them a lot and also invited Omar-S to play in Hamburg a short while after. There are a lot of timeless tracks on these labels. Emphasis is the label from Steven Tang. Every record is great and these are always a good hint for people digging for records in the store. We bought a lot of these, so we can offer them as long as possible. Steven was also guest at our Smallville party series and it was great to finally meet him.

Is there anyone Smallville wants to release who it has not yet released? What are your plans for 2012?

The release of a Steven Tang record would be something truly great for Smallville. We are big fans. As for 2012, we are working on a Smallpeople album, hopefully for the first half of 2012. There is some really good stuff in the pipeline for the Smallville label.

Interview

You’re famously in possession of one of the most saliva-inducing array of analogue music equipment known to mankind. Can you remember the first piece you ever bought?

Danny Wolfers: Well there are a lot of people and studios that have way more stuff, I just have a bunch of synthesizers and I really don’t care if it’s analogue or digital. You know, people call everything that has a knob or slider analogue these days or probably even if it’s just hardware. Last week this guy told me he heard someone praising the great, real analogue sound of the AKAI MPC! The first piece I got was a Commodore AMIGA computer; that thing has been more important than any synthesizer I bought. With a copy of the OCTAMED sequencer and a sampler cartridge you basically had a pretty good sampler sequencer workstation. A lot of my stuff, like from The Nomium Syndrome EP to Beyond the Congo, under the names Gladio and Polarius, that’s all made on an Amiga 1200.

Are there pieces you particularly favor over others, that will more often end up being used on your tracks?

Sure, the Roland Alpha Juno 2 synthesizer’s a real workhorse and the Yamaha RM1X sequencer, a cheap synthesizer/drum-machine/sequencer box but one of the best hardware sequencers ever made.

Did you always have a fascination with technology, or did this gear-fetish come to you once you started making music?

I guess boys always like technological stuff, right?

Do any of the newer retro styled synths interest you, for the ease of not having to keep them serviced regularly?

Yeah, they are way more interesting than old ones because most of the time they can do a lot more and are way cheaper, too. Like those Microkorgs, I’ve got three of those. They are pretty battered and falling apart from all the live gigging but they can stand their ground against something like a Jupiter 8, exotic sound-wise.

Your Astro Unicorn Radio show ran for a good four years, though you stopped doing that this year. Why did you choose to stop doing the show?

It just took too much time to do it every week. I spent two or 3three days a week on a show and after doing it for a couple of years I just got fed up with it and wanted to do something fresh and new.

You had some great specials on the show over the years. What were some of your personal highlights?

I think the documentary type shows were the most interesting, I guess. With the background atmosphere sounds, the Lomax-esque This American Life-style docos on FrequeNC Records, when we went into the forests of the deep south, or the one with Ron Morelli when we are eating pastries in a Mexican restaurant in Queens while you hear the rain outside, stuff like that.

I’m interested in your Unreleased America 1976-1992compilation. How did you come across these tracks and was it hard to track down the artists to get them to license them?

I basically had nothing to do with it, it was all the work of Will Burnett aka DJ Speculator. He found all those guys and licensed it, I just released it. That guy could be like a detective librarian or something.

Also I’m interested in how the video for “Equestrian 707? came about. The Weta people are very high-profile and I’m assuming not very cheap.

There was this guy Adam Larkin from New Zealand and he was doing some movie stuff in Holland and wanted to do a video for me. I said sure and I made the “Equestrian 707 trac”k for the video especially. So like one or two years later I was touring in New Zealand and the video was finished and he showed it to me at the Weta HQ. I didn’t have to pay anything for it because he did it for fun. It’s a crazy video with green pastures, horses, paranormal investigation centers, demonic creatures, etc. Pretty cool. There are two versions, one more explicit and the TV version. I think the one on Youtube is the TV version. I think they showed it on the New Zealand news after an item about Dolphin Trainers if I remember correctly.

Trawling through your discography and website I gather that apart from an obvious predilection for nature and animals you have some love also for aircraft. Any favorites you’d like to share with us, and have you ever flown on some more exotic craft than your stock standard air-planes?

Yeah, my favorite plane is the Dehavilland DHC-6 Twin otter. I also like Russian air planes like the Tupolevs and Illushins. I know Tupolevs always crash but they just look so cool. Actually for that matter the Illushin IL86 and IL96 are considered the safest planes in the world and didn’t crash once.

You’ve been making music for quite a while now but even so, the sheer amount that you have released is incredibly impressive. How often are you in the studio?

Every day from early in the morning ’till late in the evening.

How do you generally go about writing your albums? Are they concept based or loosely based around a series of studio sessions?

Well I just make tracks, basically. I really hate the word concept album, that sounds so fucking cheesey and toe-bending prog rock style. I would rather call them exploitation albums, like “The Rise and Fall of Manual Noriega” or “Phalangius,” etc. There was just this story or movie in my head and those albums were made in a couple of days in one flow. Nowadays the albums are just a collection of tracks I guess.. I don’t know, man.

What sort of music do you like to listen to in your spare time?

I guess mostly old soul music and African stuff, Detroit house too, 90s ambient stuff like Mixmaster Morris and The Orb.

The press release you wrote to accompany your The TEAC Life album was not just brilliantly original but also refreshingly funny. Ever considered a side career writing press releases or reviews?

Sure, hit me up.

What was your decision behind giving the album away for free/donation?

From the moment I started making those tracks I knew I had to give it away for free. I dunno exactly why or what but I didn’t want the music to be imprisoned on a piece of vinyl, these tracks needed to be free in cyberspace.

Have the donations actually financed you buying some more crap synthesizers or fixing your Juno 106?

Yes, the people have been quite generous, thank you very much for that again. The Juno has been fixed and I bought some crap keyboards from the rest of the money like a Casio MT520 and MT540 and MT640 which I already did a few projects with. They are like really ghetto house machines, like the drums are even cheaper versions of the RZ1 (Steve Pointdexter’s “Work That MF” drums) and they have really lo-fi house organs and strings and stuff.

What can we expect from Danny Wolfers and his many aliases in the next year?

I really don’t know, I hope to further advance my music with something fresh and new. I am working on some new material that pushes it a little bit further. Also, I started a software company called Pacific Micro International, it will release mainly audio applications and paranormal software. One of the products is called PACIFIC TAPE STATION and this will simulate the artifacts of cassette tape on your tracks, you can really push it far and make it sound all fucked up and saturated like half of your track has been disintegrated from the tape. You can also do E.V.P Electronic Voice Phenomena stuff with it because its emulates Germanium crystal diodes. Another product will be the PACIFIC LAGOON SYNTHESIZER which will be an easy to use VST plug-in synthesizer which can emulate very raw and organic analogue synthesis.

Interview

How did you two meet and begin producing together?

This must have been in the early 90s when we met as young kids in a record shop. Soon we became colleagues in that same record shop and worked there for many years. During this period, 1994 to late 2006 (when the shop went bankrupt ), we were part of a collective of like-minded souls and co-hosted numerous parties. Carl Craig, I-F, Erol Alkan, The Glimmers, Freddy Fresh, Charles Webster and the DMX Krew were just a few names on the long list of great artists we as part of this collective had the pleasure to invite and DJ with.

Anecdote: It seems that Francesco Tristano met Carl Craig for the first time at one of our parties. Francesco and a friend of his were there (we never met them though), which is quite funny in retrospect because this must have been one of the last parties we organized, in autumn 2005. Carl played an excellent set (still with vinyl in those years) and showed not only to be a pro but also a very warm and friendly person.

Actually, we never really had the urge to produce and we were quite happy working in the record shop, being part of this party collective and DJing ourselves all those years. But after the shop went bankrupt the crew slowly but surely fell apart with people choosing different paths in life. We got together and soon came to the conclusion that we could never live without electronic music and decided we were ready and up for a next challenge, and so a new chapter began.

Do either of you make solo productions as well?

Yes, although not for official output. Maybe someday we might, who knows? And if so, we will always hook up and ask each other for an opinion or advise. However all this is not a serious topic for us as our main focus is Morning Factory.

Is there a division of labor between you two in the studio? What does each of you bring to Morning Factory?

Joep is more the technical guy and makes the first sketches and we take it from there. JP gives the input to compliment the production process. From there we work on the tracks until we have a piece of music that we feel comfortable with, as we agreed not to release music which is not up to our own satisfaction.

Morning Factory is by all accounts a reference to the Ron Trent/Chez Damier track of the same name. How did that end up as the name for your project?

In our opinion Ron and Chez are among those few who truly can call themselves legends. Simply because they created honest and original music, not a style, not a genre, no hypes, no trends. You still feel that today. Their track “Morning Factory” was and still is a firm favorite of ours; that is why we choose the name. Mind, we don’t compare ourselves with Ron and Chez, neither do we want to copy their sound, which would be impossible anyway. What we do is follow our heart, try to aim for the best we can possibly be, listen, learn, love and enjoy all this great music which is still around, old and new.

Earlier this year you posted a photo of your studio which was quite crowded with gear. With all that gear and only two years of releases, how long have you been producing?

Oh yes, that one! Haha, we have to be honest here, it’s not ours! Both the picture and the gear belong to Jean-Michel Jarre (another legend). Our studio is not like that. We use software technology which can be at your fingertips nowadays as a substitute to all that great vintage equipment, which we still love.

How much sampling do you guys do?

Every now and than we sample some things out of old records, not too much though.

How did you first get connected with Yore and 20:20 Vision? What about Clone?

Yore began by sending a friendly e-mail through Myspace to Gerd Janson from Running Back, which is a favorite label of ours. He almost immediately responded and said there wasn’t any room for us at RB (as we expected) but that we should try Yore. So we did, rest is history.

20:20 Vision is a label we started to follow from day one. We did send them some tracks after we noticed Ralph Lawson charted our first EP (Forgotten Moments on Yore). Ralph Lawson and Andy Whittaker personally replied within 24 hours. Together we compiled the Dazin’ EP, a double pack. Ralph and the whole 20:20/FINA crew are great people, they don’t push us or tell us what to do. Music-wise we are free to do what we feel. Hope we can give them some fresh music soon.

Serge from Clone, a man we didn’t knew in person but respected deeply for his Clone achievements, sent us an e-mail to congratulate us on the aforementionedDazin’ EP. We were quite surprised as we never dared to send our music to Clone, thinking it wasn’t good enough for the label quality-wise. So when we had some new tracks we were bold and just sent them to Serge and that’s how the edit for Reggie Dokes’ “Once Again” and Fantasy Check on Clone/Royal Oak came about. It speaks for itself that we are very proud to be a little part of that big Clone history. We would love to stick around Clone.

The Dutch house/techno scene of which you are a part has been particularly strong over the last few years. Why do you think it’s been fertile ground for so much good dance music? What are your favorite parts of the scene?

True, the Dutch house/techno scene seems to be blossoming. In a way it always has, from the late 80s up to now, but not always in a true and cutting edge way. It was either very clubby or gabber, nothing in-between. Now people take notice of producers who have been ignored for many years. However, as strange as it may sound, we don’t consider us a part of this so this called Dutch scene. We both live in a small town all the way down the south of Holland, tucked in between Belgium and German borders, which are both literally a 10-minute car drive from our homes. Of course we did and still follow what is happening “up there.” Clone, Rush Hour and Delsin are true innovators, but when it comes to influences we have say that they came and for the bigger part still come from Germany, Belgium, France and the UK rather than Holland. Besides that, foreign countries were picking us up from almost scratch and up. Until now, Serge was the only one in Holland who was giving us faith and props.

Who are some some of your production contemporaries you admire and why?

Always tricky to namedrop because you always forget the ones who deserve a big shout out, respect and love too. In Holland we really dig I-F, Duplex, Newworldaquarium, Alden Tyrell, Conforce, Delta Funktionen, Gerd, Tom Trago and Dexter. Outside our country the list is almost endless: Cosmin TRG, Lone, Kassem Mosse, Jacob Korn, Omar-S, Benjamin Brunn, Vakula, Ripperton, Gavin Russom, Space Diminsion Controller, Wbeeza, Actress, Linkwood, Untold…

What is the best advice you’ve received with regards to making music? What advice of your would you give to up-and-coming producers?

Simply that there are no rules in making music, just do as you feel like, make mistakes and don’t be scared making them. Music was never meant to be perfect or sound like this or that. Go with whatever happens in making a track — it’s a small journey, enjoy it! When you are too focused on a certain sound or goal on what the track should sound like you can miss all the nice and spontaneous things that happen in a production process. We noticed all the times that we want to create a smooth track it can turn out raw and nasty. So, we just go with the flow and things can just fall into place. We try to keep an open mind about the whole process.

What’s coming up from you two over the next 12 months?

We just finished a remix for Gerd’s 4 Lux label and really looking forward to continue our work with Clone/Royal Oak. The rest is open and we’ll see what the future has in store, no master plan here.

When you’re away from the gear and turntables, what do you do for fun?

We love to cook and eat, catch some movies with a preference for the lesser known and more obscure, read a good book, wine tasting (not connoisseurs though), going on a bike ride or a run in the hilly countryside, architecture, and browsing Discogs :)

A lot, of course, has been written about your legend and the legend of techno, how it came about and everything, but for you personally, can you tell us a little bit about your sort of first brushes with music, perhaps some of the earlier stuff you remember hearing that made you want to be interested in music on a deeper level?

Juan Atkins: Well, I mean I’ve been interested in music probably ever since I’ve been born. I pretty much always knew that I wanted to make music or make a record, you know? I mean even from a very young age. I guess the first time it came very serious [was when] my father bought me an electric guitar for my 10th birthday, and it’s one of those with the built — I think it was a Slingerland — with the built-in amp to amp, and the guitar case was the same thing. You know, the amp was built into the guitar case. So I guess you could say that that would be the defining moment when I was getting serious about a career in music.

So who were the artists for you who made you want to be a guitarist?

Oh man, definitely from my whole music listening career there’s probably been Sly and The Family Stone and P-Funk. Sly and The Family Stone’s “Family Affair” was the first record that I ever bought with money out of my own pocket and going into the store myself. Before that my grandmother used to buy us The Jackson 5 Christmas albums. But I think probably Sly Stone and P-Funk, which [there are] a lot of similarities in those two acts.

I understand that when it came to getting into electronic stuff your first synth was a Korg MS-10. Was there a particular thing about that machine that made you want it? Had you heard it being used in records or anything like that?

No, I actually used to — there was a music store, a piano store called Grinnell’s, which is… actually my grandmother raised me from most of my young, younger pre-school era. And she had a Hammond B-3 organ, and she used to go into Grinnell’s and buy sheet music and get it serviced and everything at the store. And then this store had a back room for all the electronic keyboards, for the synthesizers that were just being introduced to the public at the time. I mean, man, this had to be, like, mid to early 70?s.

Wow.

Yeah. I was, of course, a very young child at the time and she used to take me in there, and I would go back in to the back room and play around, and the synthesizers they had there were a Korg MS-10 and a Minimoog, and these were the first affordable synthesizers that were available to the general public. They were monophonic, you know, nothing fancy, but these were the first small synthesizers that were available to the youth I guess.

And so did you play around on that and it just sounded really cool so you wanted to get that one?

Yeah, we used to go in the store and play, that’s the one they had in the store, so eventually when I was able to get one that was the one I got.

Yeah, cool. So your first documented music was with Rick Davis as Cybotron, but had you been playing in bands before that?

No, that was my first real authentic move, I guess you could say. I mean anything else was just when guys in the neighborhood, we would get together and, during this time, it was playing in the garage in the neighborhood, playing in the garage was a big thing. So we didn’t play, we didn’t have any I guess you could say professional bookings or anything like that or recordings or anything. It was just messing around. So Cybotron was the first real group.

At that point in music, things were definitely band oriented, even if you were making electronic music like Cybotron or Kraftwerk or something. When did you start to realize that things could be entirely self sufficient and perhaps also completely instrumental?

Well, you know actually I started — my first demos were done by myself entirely. So I was always with the concept even though I wasn’t using any drums machines or sequencers, I was using methods that were enabling me to record my own fully, I guess, produced demo. And I would use the record — they had a record at the time called Drum Props, and it was basically just a rhythm track record with just different drum beats on it. Like a live drummer playing out different patterns on this record. It was maybe 10 to 12 different tracks with just drum beats on it. And I would play this record, into — I had two cassette decks and a little mixer, a little PA mixer, and I would play this record through the PA mixer and then record a bass line and drums on one cassette and then bounce it back to the other cassette and keep adding tracks onto it until I had a full track.

Awesome.

So I guess you could say that was my first “one-man band” situation.

Did you see that, at that stage, you know, as a viable sort of thing?

No, actually the reason why I did that [was] because I used to get this magazine called Songwriter Magazine. I don’t know if they’re still around, but they had a contest, every year they had a contest. This magazine would sponsor a contest, and if you won, you won some recording time and a record contract and blah blah blah. So I wanted to enter this contest, but I didn’t have any band members to play with so I had to make my own track to get into this contest. I mean I didn’t win, but at least I was able to enter.

Thatt must have been really strange because nowadays, I know for myself personally and so many other people, have decided to start, you know, on a career in music, they’re influenced by what had come before them, and you’ve cited people like Funkadelic and Giorgio Moroder as helping to influence you. But in terms of actually making electronic music, there must have been very few people at the time where you were growing up who were doing it.

No, nobody in the neighborhood was doing electronic music. I don’t even think anybody owned a synthesizer. At this time, when these synthesizers came out, nobody really knew what to do. You had a couple of people like Rick Davis, who I met in college, that even knew what to do. The only people who had synthesizers, like you say, were Giorgio Moroder, Stevie Wonder, Bernie Worrell from P-Funk and he is who peaked most of my interest in it because of course it was part of P-Funk. But tracks like “Flash Light” and “One Nation Under a Groove” were almost totally electronic, you know?

Yeah, it must be so strange to have not had that help, in a way, of anyone showing you what to do. Nowadays you’ve got, you know, kids can go onto YouTube and see how to play the chords, even. They can see how to program, but I guess it was all complete discovery, wasn’t it?

Yeah, for sure.

And breaking all the rules.

Yep.

I guess from the era, in terms of things being quite band oriented, it seems like you’ve always liked to keep that human element in your music, sort of through vocals, and you can always hear that funk in there.

Uh huh.

Is that important to you to, as far as you can take the machines to always still have a human element in your music?

I don’t think that it is so much as a conscious decision as opposed to, you know, more of a subconscious thing. I mean I think that for me, for making music, I like a lot of my personality to come out in the music, and that’s part of, I guess, the beauty or the fun of actually making tracks or making songs is to see how much of your subconscious thoughts or subconscious creativity can come out in your work. So you know, by me being human, I guess by default there’s going to be a human element to come out in the tracks. But what’s fun is to make these machines, I guess, more organic. But being electronic and still being technologically driven and organic all at the same time, there’s sort of an art to that. Yeah, I think that’s probably what makes Detroit music, myself and Detroit artists stand out. Because a lot of people here, a lot of the other artists, a lot of producers kind of took that as the standard. You know, so when you listen to a lot of next generation techno artists they kind of took cues from what we was doing when me and Kevin [Saunderson] and Derrick [May] and Eddie [Fowlkes] did it. And you know, I think that’s why Detroit still remains popular.

Were you producing first or were you DJing?

It probably all happened at the same time. I mean like I said, my father bought me an electric guitar for my 10th birthday, and I don’t even think mixing records was even conceived at that time. The closest thing that you had to that, I think, during that time was the DJ on the radio that could segue a record into another record. But actually matching beats — actually disco kind of kicked that thing off because of the disco, the four-on-the-floor thing made it very easy to match beats. And I think disco probably created the whole DJ culture.

So when you started doing stuff with Rick, were you playing records?

Yeah, I mean I heard, you know, the disco era came in and a lot of the radio stations changed their format to disco and then they brought — the first DJ that I heard on the radio, his name was Ken Collier, he’s deceased now. But he was on a station called, they called it Disco WDRQ, and he was their house mix DJ, and the first time I heard him blend records — I mean I think he blended something like “One Nation Under a Groove” with “I Just Want To Be” by Cameo, or something. And it was just like, ‘Hey man, I got to learn how to do that.’ But that wasn’t ’til, like, late ’70s, like ’79 or something like that.

Now while you were making music with Rick, were you sort of amassing more and more studio equipment of your own?

Yeah. I mean the first demos — like I said, I was doing these demos, and by this time I was just graduating from high school. And I went to a community college called Washtenaw Community College, and that’s where I met Rick Davis. Now Rick was what you call a quote unquote “electronic musician.” But he was very isolated, I guess you could say. I graduated in 1980 so this was, like, the latter part of 1980 when the funk to disco thing was still kind of huge. So we were still under the concept of, you know, the whole thing was when you were around other musicians [you'd say], ‘Hey let’s get together and have a jam session.’ That’s the only way that you could actually still make music.

A lot of people weren’t aware of trying to do things with drum tracks or doing tracks on their own, other than Rick Davis. So when we met he told me, ‘Yeah, I been doing tracks.’ He was very advanced, way more advanced than I was. He had a DR-55 rhythm composer, which was the first Roland drum machine. Also an MSQ-100 sequencer, it was like an early Roland sequencer. And these things, I didn’t know anything about. I read the back of Giorgio Moroder’s album covers, and I thought that you had to be a computer technician to do this stuff, you know? But Rick really broadened my horizons and introduced me to a lot of the equipment, and he had all of this gear. He had ARP Axxe, ARP Odyssey. He had these sequencers and drum machines, I mean when I walked into his room, he had all this stuff situated in his bedroom, and it was like walking into a spaceship. Because he was keepin’ it dark, he would keep his blinds closed. So all you could see was these LED lights. [laughs] And the way the ARP synthesizers worked, they had lights all the way across — that was the setup on the board. And they had lights just kind of on across this thing so it looked like an airplane cockpit or something. Yeah.

[laughs] Awesome. When you guys kind of parted your ways, you formed Metroplex. Tell us a little bit about that. There can’t have kind of been too many small, independent record labels at this time, especially, you know, dealing in electronic music, or solely electronic music.

No, there was no other labels. And especially in Detroit, that was the only independent label, I mean, you know, Motown was considered an independent label.

But that was also huge.

Yeah. But I mean, yeah, but we used the same distribution. You know, we used independent distributors so you had other independent labels, but they were huge labels, still on independent networks. So I guess you could say this was the first electronic techno label.

So that must have been pretty scary because, I mean, as much of an un-financially viable option as that is today, to start an independent record label, it must have been harder then.

No, it wasn’t scary. Not at all, because basically we just had to have enough money to press the record. I mean it was because the record was popular because [The Electrifying] Mojo played the record, man, and it was an instant hit. So it wasn’t — we didn’t have any doubt about selling records, man, the records stores were beating our door down to get the record.

Oh, okay.

So there wasn’t nothing scary about that.

So was Metroplex kind of influenced from having had a brush with Fantasy Records?

Well, Fantasy, no, what happened was Fantasy picked us up. We started Deep Space Records, which was the label that we started to put out the first record, which was “Alleys of Your Mind” on the A-Side and “Cosmic Raindance” on the B-side. OK, that was the first record, and we came out with our follow-up, which was “Cosmic Cars,” and we used an independent distributor. I forgot the name of the company, but it was run by a guy named Bob Schwartz, and he was also distributing Motown and Fantasy and other independent labels. So he just called up Fantasy and said, ‘Hey man, I’ve got some guys here who are selling records hand over fist. You need to take a look at them.’ And next thing I knew, there was a contract in the mail.

Wow, excellent.

Yeah, so we signed with them.

Okay, so you had a positive experience with them, then.

Yeah, pretty much.

So there wasn’t anything to leave a bad taste in your mouth.

Yeah, no. That was great times. I mean the only… we got caught up in Detroit music politics between stores, like some stores were wondering why they had the record and this store didn’t have the record. And you know, we actually got threatened by rival distributors, like ‘Hey, if you sell to this guy, we’re not going to sell your record.’ You know, that kind of stuff. One distributor was in control of the one radio station and the other distributor was in control of the other radio station. So if you sell to this distributor and the other distributor doesn’t want to stock your record, therefore the radio station they are affiliated with doesn’t want to play your music. So we never was able to really have our music played on all the stations at the same time.

Oh okay. So when did you start playing around with sort of more 4/4 beats, what’s, you know, generally seen as techno now?

Well, I mean, you know, if you listen to the Cybotron album, there was a track on there called “The Line,” which was actually the B-side of “Cosmic Cars,” which was kind of a 4/4 track, 4/4 rhythm. It’s always been kind of — you know I’ve always been interested in that because disco, it was a big influence for me as well. Because it was the late 70?s, man; I was graduating back in ’80, so kind of like my whole high school existence was disco. Well, funk. Mid 70?s disco and funk was kind of intertwined, although disco was a little later. I don’t know if you can remember, a lot of funk groups started doing disco records as well. Yeah, that disco rhythm was always there, but, you know, the funk was there as well.

Yeah, sort of more syncopated.

Yeah.

So did you and Rick play live as Cybotron?

No, we never actually played live together. We did as — there was a festival in Ypsilanti, Michigan called the Ypsilanti Art Fair. And it was sort of the same thing as, just like a festival, but it was in a big open field, and they would do this thing every year at the end of August. And so we got up there and did a little thing. But we was up there with some other musicians so it wasn’t actually Cybotron.

But when did you first do a Model 500 gig?

The first Model 500 gig, I guess you could say, was probably 1995 when I did the 10 year anniversary of Metroplex. And we did a live show in an art gallery, which was in the warehouse district of Detroit, right down east of the Renaissance Center, maybe two or three blocks off the Renaissance. It was Mike Banks, Keith Tucker, and Tommy — I forgot Tommy’s last name. But the other half of Aux 88.

Oh right, Tommy Hamilton.

Yeah.

Okay, cool. Can you tell me a little about the different names you’ve used? Most prolifically, it’s been Model 500 and Infiniti, but some of the other names, your one-off few releases, Triple XXX, Channel One, Frequency. Did these others have a distinct flavor as well, or were they just kind of thrown in?

In a way it was like, when this technology came down it enabled you to do a lot of different things with all these different sounds and stuff. So I thought that, well hey, Cybotron had a distinct sound, Model 500 had its sound, so then also a lot of things that were done for collaborations with other people. Like Channel One was a collaboration with me and a guy named Doug Craig.

One thing I was kind of wondering about, I mean I know you guys all had your own lives and your careers were going in different directions, but it’s always seemed kind of strange, like, you and Kevin and Derrick are always cited as being sort of the birth of, or responsible for techno blowing up like it did, but you guys didn’t really ever collaborate that much did you, actually, on record?

Not really. I mean there were a couple of things, but we never really followed through for all three of us to do it. I mean and the funny thing is that in actuality we did collaborate a lot in the early days. I mean, like, records like “Let’s Go,” everybody was on that record. “Big Fun,” everybody was on that record. But we never really just sat down and credited everybody that was in the session.

Yeah. And I guess you all had your different directions, as well, didn’t you?

Yeah.

So when things really started blowing up and, you know, you all of a sudden get asked to DJ halfway across the world in Europe. Seeing the way that things were there, did that open up new avenues of inspiration for you and your music?

I guess you could say that, yeah, for sure. Nobody really anticipated traveling like that around the world, but definitely seeing different places and going to different cultures and things like that, it influenced you probably more subconsciously than anything. And then the spin that the UK and Germany and other places put when they started producing music and the artists came up, you know, there was a definite different spin put on the music. Like when the people in London kind of took things a different way. You had the jungle element that kind of came in, to me which was a continuation of hip house, which a lot of people kind of forget about. But there were a lot of house artists in Chicago putting hip-hop tracks on their house tracks, which to me was the palette for early jungle music.

Tell me about the first time you heard drum and bass, and how that made you feel, I mean did that sort of open up new areas?

Well, no, to me a lot of people come up with different titles for stuff and different categories for things that they just have to name it something, but to me drum and bass was jungle. I mean the first time I heard the term jungle was — I guess there was a time where Shut Up And Dance was doing — that was what I equated with that next step from hip house to, I guess it was kind of hardcore music, in a way. It was like rave, but then when the Jamaican kind of dub element came into it, it became jungle. And to me, drum and bass was kind of a stripped-down version of jungle.

Yeah. You know, I guess for a lot of Detroit guys, I can’t think of too many other people who have actually embraced that sound. I think from what I can figure, you and, I think, Sean Deason has played around with sort of jungle and drum and bass a bit. Was it seen any differently there? Like, it wasn’t such a good thing?

No, in the U.S. it was something that was kind of unheard of, and there was no audience, really, for it. There was no audience here really even for techno, for our brand of techno, much less the sort of evolution of it. So it was kind of like it was something totally new here. Even just a few years ago I would ride around and listen to this stuff, and people was like, ‘Damn, what is that?’

Wow, yeah. So has there been sort of other moments for you more recently where you’ve sort of re-evaluated music like that again? Like, there’s a lot of bass music coming out of England now has gone from half tempo drum and bass to dubstep, and now it’s gone very experimental. Is that an interesting thing for you?

Yeah, anything new or any evolution in music, especially when it comes to electronic dance music is interesting for me, on one hand. On the other hand, you have good and bad of everything, you know what I’m saying? You’ve got a lot more people dabbling and doing productions and doing music than ever before, I think, in the history of making music. So of course you’re going to have the amateur aspect to things, and just everybody that turns on a drum machine and a sequencer and a synthesizer I guess I should say should not be turning on a drum machine, a sequencer, and a synthesizer. [laughs]

Did it feel back when you guys started travelling more, and I mean this is probably more a question for Derrick because he was sort of a victim of it more, but when some of these English groups started sampling you guys early on and that started blowing up, I mean did you guys take offense to that?

No, I mean it was kind of flattering in a way to hear your stuff come back, that somebody would take the time to take your music and use it on one hand. But then on the other hand, the next reaction was, like, ‘Well, damn, am I going to get paid? That’s my music.’ [laughs] So it was kind of a bittersweet thing.

Yeah, yeah. What was it like working with the German guys like Thomas Fehlmann and Moritz von Oswald? Did they have a really different approach to music?

It wasn’t really that different. The thing about that was that they were really — this was at the time when a lot of digital, the really digital thing kind of came and swept in. You had sort of a backlash in a way where you had a lot of people that wanted to still use analog gear or prided themselves on digging up these old analog synthesizers and gear. And they were big on that. So as a matter of fact, like Moritz, his studio, Love Park Studio, was the first time when I’d seen an 808 and a 909 with MIDI on it, and so they had this interface, a box that turned control and CB gate and gate voltage into MIDI. So it was nice to work with them and the fact that you could MIDI up all these different old keyboards like Prophets and Junos and stuff like that.

And your personal studio, has that kind of always evolved with the times, in terms of what technology offers?

Pretty much, yeah.

So when did you sort of start using computers for sequencing?

We had one of the first systems, one of the first software-based sequencers was called Dr. T, which was run on a Commodore 64. I mean it had its glitches. It definitely had its bugs in it, and as a matter of fact, I went back to sort of a hardware sequencer because of all of the hiccups that software had. I mean of course they’ve ironed it out now, but that early stuff had a lot of hiccups in it. But the concept was good, though, because it had a lot of power. Because if you use the computer, of course you had unlimited memory, basically. And so it was a different thing to be able to use the computer with your sequencing. It was like, ‘Aw, man, we’ve got thousands of notes that you can record.’ This was at the time when we were first recording that there’s notes because each note took up so much memory. So the thing was, the selling point was that you can record 1,000 notes. A 1,000-note recording capability, this was the selling point of the early software stuff.

I know throughout your music, science fiction and the concept of space, things like that have been recurring themes in your music. What sort of other ideas have you liked to reflect on?

Nothing else, actually that I guess peaks my interest. Other than just thinking forward and moving forward.

I mean have there been incredible books that you’ve read, you know, that you’ve sort of thought about and made music because you’ve read them?

Not really. I mean, I’m kind of a spiritual person. There’s one book I read called The Game of Life and How to Play It. I forgot who the author was, but it’s sort of a spiritual sort of self-help thing. You know, it talks about thinking positive and being positive, and you know, you have to see yourself in positive situations before they can actually happen sometimes, you know?

Yeah, I remember hearing “Ocean to Ocean” for the first time and really figuring that must be quite a driving force for you.

Yeah.

Are there any aspects of your career that you perhaps don’t enjoy so much now as you used to?

Well, the major record companies have always presented a sort of a crazy approach to stuff. Because sometimes I think a major company, major companies are kind of too big for their own good, and they kind of lose touch with what is really out here or what really the people want. Commercialization comes in and radio controls it, and advertisers control radio, and it’s just a vicious cycle. So that has always created sort of a, I guess a dynamic to getting music to the people that want your music. Because I mean major companies, like, the whole CD thing — record companies are always promoting a progressing thing to of course help the major companies, and the CD kind of killed vinyl, but the independent companies and small labels thrived on vinyl. But it kind of upset the major marketing vehicle because the records– I’ll give you an example: Our record “Cosmic Cars,” when we came out with “Cosmic Cars,” we came out right out at the same time as Prince’s “Little Red Corvette” came out. And in the Detroit charts, there was a radio station that kind of had a chart, and it kind of controlled what Detroit was representing. Like, each city had a major station that had a chart. “Cosmic Cars” was number one on this chart. “Little Red Corvette” was number two. And, man, the record companies and the promoters went crazy because they were like, ‘Who is this? Who are these guys? Who is this Cybotron? We got millions of dollars of promotion behind this Prince, and these guys are beating us out in the charts.’ [laughs]

That’s crazy.

Yeah. So you know, when they came with the CD, that format kind of scrolled out the independent things so things like that didn’t happen. So we figured out how to make it cost effective to start making CDs. And then I guess it kind of changed, but there was a moment when the CDs kind of scrolled out all the independents. A lot of distributors, a lot of vinyl distributors, that was the reason that a lot of them folded, because the major companies killed it with the CD format.

I guess especially when you’re dealing with a format that’s good for DJs, CDs are just aimed at being albums.

Yeah.

So tell me about Model 500 now. When did you decide to re-form in the current line-up?

Well, you know, most of all the Model 500 recordings are me. I did [them] mostly as all just me, Juan Atkins. No collaborations with anybody, and when it came time to play live, I wanted to create a group. I wanted a band, I just always wanted the entity. That’s why I didn’t just go out as Juan Atkins, I called it Model 500. Because that was just something that, because Submerge, which is Mike Banks’ distribution company, was distributing a lot of Metroplex stuff, he would come to me and say, ‘Hey, man, I’ve got a lot of inquiries about a Model 500 show. Why don’t we get together and do it?’ And I said, ‘OK.’ So we just got together, me and him, and we recruited a couple other other guys, Mark Taylor and Milton Baldwin, and just hit it.

Cool. And so you guys recently released a new single, or earlier in the year. Was that a complete collaboration between everybody?

That was a collaboration. That was the first Model 500 collaboration. That was me, Mark, and Mike Banks. Yeah, “OFI,” “Object Flying Identified.”

And can we expect more?

Oh yeah. Well, I don’t know if it’s collaborative. There’s a new Model 500 that I’m just finishing up, the main track on this EP is called “Control.” And from all indications of early feedback that I’m getting, people are loving this track. So it’s like an electro track, something with my new kind of thoughts and ideas, my new sound on it. So it should be coming before the end of the year.

Excellent. Is that going to be on R&S as well?

I think so, yeah.

Do you still release on Metroplex?

Yeah, we may even release — this next single may have a joint Metroplex/R&S release.

Great, well thank you so much for talking to us and thanks for all the years of music.

Thank you.

Interview

First of all can you tell us a little bit about how you first came to be interested in music and more specifically electronic music?

René Breitbarth: As a kid I was buying 80?s pop singles and as a result of that I wanted a keyboard. My father said he would buy me an expensive one if I’d take lessons. I ended up with a cheap one.

How old were you when you started DJing and then producing?

I started producing before DJing. I must have been around 15 when I started to compose with my Amiga home computer back then. I tried out mixing on turntables probably when I was 20.

Who were the DJ’s and producers you aspired to when you were getting into clubbing and listening to this music?

They are all mentioned in Scooter’s “Hyper Hyper.” Seriously, too many to mention.

So I understand you first appeared on the Cologne Sound Waves compilation. What were you making back then?

This compilation was a project of a bunch of people hanging out at a studio above the Space Club Cologne, later Warehouse. I was mostly spending my time there producing.

What were the first pieces of production gear that you bought?

That was an EMU ESI-32 sampler. But mostly I used the gear of friends.

Were your friends doing the same thing? Did you have people who were also starting out so you could help each other out?

Before digital production I always had studios together with friends, for example we ran a Treibstoff Studio once.

Tell us about the Treibstoff label, how you and Marcel Janovsky came to start the label and what the mission statement behind the label was.

Me and a friend made a 12-inch by ourselves with no distributor at first, then Marcel and his partner joined to go more professional, thus Treibstoff was born. We were just a bunch of artists who were fed up by sending demos to labels.

When you started the label people were definitely still playing vinyl and hadn’t yet moved to playing CDs or mp3s. How much of an impact did these new mediums have on the sales of the releases?

Of course the vinyl sales got less. But I’m not involved in doing Treibstoff anymore other than releasing an EP once in a while for many years now. So I’m not the right person to ask.

Since then you’ve also started your own label, Deep Data, which I notice is almost purely digital. Tell us a bit about the label and your reasons for going digital.

Mainly, the idea for Deep Data came from playing at Club der Visionaere in Berlin. My vision of club sound changed there a little. It was already different from the Treibstoff sound at that time so I launched Deep Data. I was already DJing digitally for four years and so it was clear that I would go for digital. Besides lower costs and effort it also brought the chance to finally release more of my tracks.

There are a lot of DJs now who have gone back to playing vinyl exclusively. Can you see Deep Data releasing on a physical format in the future or does it seem financially unsustainable?

Actually three vinyl releases were made around 2010. It IS financially unsustainable. However, it’s not my focus or desire to release on vinyl.

Most of the Deep Data releases have been your own, though I notice you are now having other artists contribute more. Are you planning to continue in this way and open the label up further to other artists?

Right now I am getting back to releasing on my own again because I simply have enough material, so it makes no sense to invest more effort, earn less and be dependent.

How would you say your own personal tastes have changed over the years in terms of music you like to listen to and also music you like to produce?

Hard one… in terms of dance stuff I would say in the past I was more into techno than house. Now it’s the opposite.

I’ve read another interview with you where you have professed to playing incredibly long sets at Club der Visionaere. What has been the longest set you’ve played? It must be very fulfilling, though incredibly tiring as well.

With my partner Toby Deschamps I played there 15 hours sets for four years. We would also invite guest DJs once in a while. It was very inspirational and surprisingly not too exhausting. DJing can give you much energy. Club der Visionaere is a very special place for that, but still after this time I needed a break from these marathon sets this summer.

Tell us about your live set up and what a Rene Breitbarth live set consists of.

I didn’t play live for some years and now I’m preparing a new set. I will do live drumming/sample triggering with the Alesis pad.

What can you tell us about the set you’ve put together for us?

Smooth and deep home recording.

And what can we expect from you in the next year?

Besides continuing to release on Deep Data and DJing I hopefully will play more live shows. Further, I will continue my monthly Deep Data radio show on RTS.fm which I just have started.

Interview

I feel like I sort of have to throw this out there: is your name really Milton Bradley? if not, any particular reason for naming yourself after a toy company/notoriously crazy baseball player? If so, no offense intended!

My real name is not Milton Bradley. The games publisher MB part of my youth and stayed in my mind. While I was searching for a pseudonym I was playing the the MB game Vectrex from 1982 and all of a sudden a name was found.

How did you get started producing music; what made you want to start making tracks? You were a DJ for a long time prior, right?‘

In the 90s I already had the idea to release my own records and bought several machines, but I never was convinced of my output back then. I would have needed much more equipment to reach the sound in my mind, but I spend a lot of my money on records so I couldn’t afford more equipment. For me it was also more interesting to present myself through DJ sets and so I postponed my record releases. In the beginning of 2008 the time was right to work on new stuff. The modern software made it possible to combine remaining gear and modern sounds. I didn’t take long to produce the first tracks and in January 2009 I released the first Do Not Resist The Beat!

You produce as Milton Bradley, The End Of All Existence, and K209. How do you approach these projects with respect to their differences?

Milton Bradley does not focus on only one sound or style. Milton Bradley stands for my current moods and sounds. At the beginning, The End Of All Existence was only a track title. I was working on the track and the result was that I had several tracks I was able to combine under this alter ego. It is the soundtrack to the down of the world. No club music. It is more an album type of music, but I prefer the DJ friendly 12? format so I decided to release the music as EPs. K209 is my project together with Henning Baer who is the one part of Grounded Theory Berlin. K209 is the name of the label and the artist when we both produce together. K209 stands for raw club tracks.

Is there any difference between a track on Do Not Resist The Beat! and, say, one on Prologue? What makes you save certain material for your own label?

Every Do Not Resist The Beat! release follows a certain concept. Always three tracks. The A-side track is always broken beats. The B-side 4 to the floor. The broken beat tracks rules the whole release. The track titles are very important. They express what I was feeling while I was making the track. I try to transport the feeling with the track itself and the title. With my release on Prologue I tried to stick to my concept. The only difference is that the A-side track is 4 to the floor with a little more melancholic mood.

What is your production setup like? Do you constantly look for new gear or do you keep more of a fixed studio?

At the moment I use only software. I try to reach the limits I have with what I am using. I think too many possibilities would limit myself. I use a lot of effects to fuck up sounds. I like to do experiments on sounds. I spend more money on vinyl. Maybe I start buying hardware again.

For me, one of the things that sets your sound apart is its bassy undercurrent and sort of swung trippiness. I was wondering if you could pinpoint where you got that rhythmic influence from, as it sounds fairly unique to me?

I am not aware of a certain influence. I listen to many different kinds of music that eventually determine what I am doing. I don’t try to sound like xyz. I do what I do, trying to express what I am feeling. Transport myself through the music to your ears. I think it is not good to try to follow a current style or trying to copy someone or his/her sound. Just let it run and see what happens. That is authentic and will bring you further. Many things happen during playing with sounds and samples. The rhythm in my tracks are always connected to the main sounds. It has to fit together. This is what I am working on the most, making it fit together.

In a recent interview you said the grounded theory party — as well as your own production — is based on idealism. What is that ideal? Could you talk a little bit about the party?

Idealism to me means having a very exact idea of the reality I’m try to follow determinedly. In terms of music this means to me that the music is in the center, not the person. That is also why my name is not on my releases. That also pertains to my researching new sounds and not copying yourself over and over again. Too many tracks nowadays sound too much the same. The good old 12? is also part of my idealism. Due to it’s material character it give the music a certain value. The music becomes listenable, viewable and touchable. The medium vinyl also brings a needed pre-selection due to limit space. With the Grounded Theory nights it is the same regarding idealism. They do it for a reason and not for the profit. I can identify myself and my idea of idealism with them. This is also the reason why we work together also regarding my bookings and management. We share the same vision. We are on the same page.

Can you give us some background on the set you’ve given us? What kind of setup did you use here, and is it a “typical” live set for you?

The set I gave you was recorded at Boys Club Stockholm, a party in Sweden’s capital run by very nice guys. I played there live on May 22nd together with Henning Baer, who was DJing. I used my laptop and a controller. Pretty simple setup. It is the current Milton Bradley sound with a little bit of The End Of All Existence. I played also some unreleased material.

How often do you perform live compared to DJing these days? Do you enjoy one more than the other?

I don’t play live that much. I prefer DJing cause you can play tracks you like from other artists. I keep my gigs rare in general. I want to keep my fire burning. Live performances are always special because no set is like the one before. When I DJ I play all kinds of stuff.

Have you found the ideal live setup for yourself, or do you plan to/are you tweaking it at all?

I think a setup can never be perfect. You could always change something to make things work better or different. It is the same with making music: Is a track somewhat perfect? I try to take the experience of making one to the next one to improve myself.

Judging by the set I think your stuff really works in a longer, maybe more narrative format. Do you have any interest in doing an album?

As I mentioned above, I am not a friend of the album format. As a DJ I think it is less effective. I think it works as EPs as well as I noticed with doing The End Of All Existence.

What’s coming up for you?

Currently my track on the new Zooloft EP is out. The third End Of All Existence is to be released by the end of the year. Many tracks are in the pipeline but nothing is confirmed yet. I keep myself flexible. I don’t like long planned release schedules.

Interview

I understand you first started out as a singer before you became interested in electronic music. Were you in a band?

Michaela Dippel: From the age of 18 I was playing/singing in several bands. The first one was a rock band — I remember our guitarist could play the full solo of Dire Straits’ “Sultans of Swing.” The second one was a bossa nova/jazz band I started after I got vocal lessons from a jazz singer. Everybody but me was sight-reading mostly songs from The Real Book. The first musical project that involved samplers and sequencers I had in the late 90?s. Me and some friends rented a studio, an old bunker located in Frankfurt. We recorded some sessions there — more just for us than for releasing. As it was a huge space, each one of us could have our own studios to record our ideas and later we would get together to finish the songs.

So what were the things that lead you to become interested in making electronic music?

It was my friends from Areal Records who brought me into electronic music. They started their label in the year 2000 subtitled “Advanced Tech-Electronic Minimalism.” I had no clue of what this might be before I moved to Cologne. They also introduced me to Kompakt’s music. Songs like Jürgen Paape’s “So Weit Wie Noch Nie” or Michael Mayer’s “Hush Hush Baby” remind me of the time when I moved to Cologne in 2001.

What were some of the things you had to consider in going from writing songs with a traditional verse/chorus/verse structure to writing instrumental tracks?

Assuming my musical history it was a new experience for me to write instrumental tracks. My first tracks for Areal Records were about three minutes long and my colleagues asked me to stretch them a bit, because no DJ would play them. The bending and stretching of my tracks seemed very unnatural to me, so unwillingly I extended them towards five minutes but it was a hard-bitten process and it bored me. It took me a while to discover the beauty of building a track up slowly, introduce new sounds in between and give them space to unfold. Now my longest track is about 10:44 — quite something.

Your first release was the Blindhouse/Luckycharm 12? on Areal. How did you come to know Metope and Basteroid?

We’ve known each other a long time before I started making music on my own. Michael (Metope) and me grew up in the same district nearby Frankfurt. We hung out quite a lot at a studio in Frankfurt with some other friends making music all day and playing computer games at night.

You’ve recently released your second album, Meine Zarten Pfoten. Tell us about the album and how you feel you’ve grown or changed since your first album, Blondie.

By the time I made Blondie I was totally overwhelmed by the new possibilities of using sequencers/samplers and creating music and especially beats on my own. Some songs might sound well structured and harmless but most of them are very playful with lots of uncontrolled noises and bleeps, and the recklessness that comes to light when I hear those sometimes makes me laugh nowadays. I wouldn’t say Meine Zarten Pfoten sounds more grown up. I could have bought dozens more machines and play around with them, but in the end this is just a sport and has nothing to do with creating music. Actually using guitars, flutes and my own voice brought me closer to making music that pleases me than arpeggiating weird noises.

I read an interview with you where you said Blondiewas largely made on headphones out of consideration for your neighbors. What can you tell us about the recording of Meine Zarten Pfoten, was the process a bit more free and without constraint?

I remember my neighbors knocking on my door from time to time when I recorded,Blondie but in the end we made our peace. For recording “Meine Meine Zarten Pfoten I mainly used headphones because I wanted to create intimacy. There are some songs on the album I can only listen to with headphones because in my opinion they need to be this close to the ear to unfold completely.

Blondie also included a cover of Yeah Yeah Yeah’s “Maps.”

There’s also two cover versions on my new album. I like the idea of putting a song into a new robe without losing its spirit.

And you’ve released the album on Pampa, did you feel it was a better fit with the label than with Areal?

If not Pampa I would have released it on my own label IRR (sub-label of Areal Records). But I also was linked to Pampa since they started the label and had constant interchange about the album with Koze. In the end I found that Pampa is the perfect home for “Meine Zarten Pfoten.” But surely I will go on working with Areal and IRR. We just released my new 12? called “Me and the Three.”

Do you feel you get to explore different sides of yourself when releasing an album more so than with releasing singles?

I think lots of people who like my first album don’t know about the singles and remixes I have done later on. It’s people who probably don’t go to a record shop every week, they want something they can listen to at home. The same for me — at least once a week I enjoy listening to music on headphones and concentrating just on this.

How do you typically go about writing a track? Do you find you think of vocal melodies a lot whether you use them in a track or not?

It’s usually a longer process. Before I write a single note or work on a sample there’s a lot happening. I take some time for thinking about the idea of the track — it’s shape, mood, instrumentation, color. When these things are clear to me (weeks might pass in between and meanwhile I might start writing another song) I start searching for the beginning of the track. The first tunes, harmonies, timbres. Then I would work on it for weeks sometimes months until one certain moment I think about another song. Back and forth…

You put out the Kompakt Adaptations mix a couple of years ago. Do you DJ much or do you mainly play live sets?

I mainly play live sets. The DJing is more like a gratification for myself.

What does your live set consist of?

My live set consists of stripped down versions of old and new songs as well as unreleased stuff.

What can you tell us about the mix you’ve put together for us?

The mix is entitled “Nightime,” like one of the tracks by Greg Paulus. Opened by Bibio’s wonderful “Saint Christopher.” It’s how I imagine an early night’s set in June.

And what can we expect from you over the next year?

Besides performing myself I’m hoping to have lots of performances with my new band project, Cologne Tape.

Your introduction to electronic music sounds fateful. Is the bio about your father finding a cassette tape filled with techno true?

Boris Bunnik:: It’s a fact, yes. It’s not only to romanticize my educative background when it comes to electronic music. I should dig that tape up one time, thanks for reminding me!

Where there any other events or major moments of inspiration that played a pivotal role in your introduction or education of electronic music?

An old friend of mine from the Terschelling island insisted that I should take over his turntables because he was convinced of the fact that I had the talent to do something with music. (He once saw me play around with some CD players in a local dance café). The next thing was to get some records and a tape deck to record mixes. The owner of a local dance café lent me his tape deck and gave me the opportunity to do some crate digging in his techno archive. There I learned that an old techno record could be as good as a new one or sometimes even better. So I learned to mix with a various set of mid and end of 90?s techno records; I guess that set of records influenced me a lot when it comes to electronic music. The dance café where I started to DJ was mainly focused on entertaining tourists and play feel-good music during the summer holidays. It was difficult to do your thing 100%, but at home I really got into the deeper electronic stuff and broadened my view. At that time Internet had just become fully functional at our home and I started to order records as well via web-shops. Also, DJs from the urban city came over to play here during some legal and illegal parties and this somehow influenced me as well.

Most people who get involved in creative pursuits usually have the type of personality where they are almost obsessively interested in all types of things. Would it be fair to say this of you too?

A bit. I think you also mention a 20th century problem here. I think all creative persons have a hard time dealing with this “time of options” sometimes. There’s just too many possibilities these days. The best thing is to follow you heart and intuition. I recognize it, but there is more focus now on what I’m doing. I’m a very multi-disciplinary minded person. I am happy with the fact that I have a strong interest in other mediums as well; I actually have the degree of “audiovisual designer.” There are parallels when it comes to photography and the electronic music I make. It just gives you more possibilities if you want to create a total concept. Sometimes the other project delivers inspiration for the other.

Looking at the electronic music only it all started in a very intuitive way, it’s like shifting phases. I’m able to focus more and more by releasing stuff under different monikers and it gives me more freedom and space to express my creative and musical ideas. I’m doing this for doing it, but I just have the urge and feeling that there is more inside me that I have to express. The focus has become pretty clear now what I want with my projects. They should be an addition to what is out there and was created, but with a fresh vision from the present and with respect to the past of course (each with it’s own identity). This diversity is also one of the characteristics of the Gemini, my zodiac sign. They simply can’t focus on one thing. Ha.

How long did it take for you to find like minded people and friends who shared this love for techno?

On Terschelling it was very difficult because there was mainly interest in club, house and other mainstream music. There was a small group of people who also liked techno and we listened to it after-hours, during illegal parties and stuff like that. But there the interest and passion for this genre was not as deeply rooted as it was for me. In the city I live in now, this group of people is also very small and it took quite some time to get in touch with like-minded people. It was at small scarce techno parties in town where I got in contact with that small handful of techno lovers. I still meet new people that share the same passion, approach and interest to electronic music in general. It’s very universal, the people and friends I share my passion with are basically from everywhere now.

Leaving the Island and moving to the city was probably also one of the best moves because I was able to meet like minded people via school and and record stores etc. All the connections I made there certainly influenced me and inspired me to do what I do. There simply was no progression on the island. Yes, there was Internet, but I did not have the social connection with people about music they way I do nowadays. There also is a lack of educational possibilities so you are actually forced to move if you want to do something with your creativity.

At what stage did you decide to start making music yourself? Was that always the plan or did you start out just wanting to DJ?

I started to produce tracks at the age of 15. The owner of the dance café I was DJing at had a small studio set-up and at a certain moment it just triggered me to start and experiment with all the kinds of software programs that were available. I had been learning on crappy hi-fi speakers with various software. I’ve spend a lot of time on it without having with real ambitions. It was just for fun. Eventually it became more serious and you come to a point where you create tracks and you can say, “Yeah this is me.”

New producers seemingly just appear out of nowhere for the majority of people, but there is usually a lot of unseen work that has been done to get there. How long were you making music for before your first release, and what was been the hardest part of getting to that point?

I did some stuff back in the beginning on web labels and I was spotted by a sort of forum that did digital releases. That was in the very beginning and there still wasn’t a signature and an identity in my tracks. The focus was very wide and I guess i was just trying to get my technique better and better. I guess I spent a lot of years experimenting and fucking around before my first vinyl release on Rush Hour came out. It gave me focus and an idea of what was a good direction for me. The hardest part is just not to stop — to swim through a sea of possibilities. Back in the early days of techno and house it was totally different I guess. We are confronted with loads of different styles, genres and artists. You can basically do everything, you can make everything. Finding something that is a real personal reflection is the most difficult part. For that you just have to produce a lot of crap and ideas I guess before getting a proper mix and track. Produce, produce! The technique is not the problem any more, but to find the self, that is what is important and takes a longer time.

Your debut album, Machine Conspiracy, was critically very well received. Did you plan the album out much or was it more a case of just assembling tracks from a similar period of production?

It was a bit of a combination: I had a few tracks that fit well together, but when I was on the road first established contact with Meanwhile the idea for an album became more and more of a concrete idea. Eventually that is what an album is, a representation of a certain period. I did not start out with the whole idea of making an album, I just was there at a certain moment. Of course I had some ideas behind it though, but it just fell together.

You’ve been releasing records for about four years now. What changes and areas of growth can you hear in your tracks?

Especially the biggest growth was the adaption of hardware equipment to my studio. I just couldn’t get any of the sounds I wanted with plugins so I started off with some cool budget machines and they gave me really good results. I needed to have hands on stuff. I also believe that with a real synthesizer it becomes a part of yourself and you feel the urge to do something good with it, treat it with respect and get the best out of it. So in that case I really tend to create my own sounds for all the tracks that I make, that’s the technical side of things. My reference of how a record should sound becomes better and better, I’m learning. Good references are early techno and house records that still have that enormous frequency impact. Sometimes it’s good to let go of all control a bit, and when I do I surprise myself. It’s apparent on the State of Mind EP on Clone, I think. The tracks have less detail but are more effective for the floor. Those tracks were mainly recorded as takes.

I have read in a bio of yours about your need to constantly push yourself into exploring new styles of music. Please discuss.

I feel that I have a lot more to express, techno in general is a very wide genre and I am willing to continue to do some more excursions into that. I just have love for various deeper forms of music. If I’m stuck with the Conforce thing I just go to another project. I see it as totally different identities. You’re capable of switching between both. There is so much more to discover and to be made. It keeps you going.

You now have a few different names you go by. Can you tell us the ideas and feeling behind the music of each different name?

With Conforce I mainly tend to focus on the deep atmospheric techno side. Sometimes it’s more for the floor, sometimes more for at home. It will remain my main thing but if I’m bored there are plenty of other ideas beside this that I want to work out. Versalife is a more conceptual project (though the focus is clear): my main goal was to push the machines to the limit and get cool atmospheric electro tracks each with a story inside itself that speaks to the imagination of the listener. The tracks all are pure flows of inspiration and mainly created with four pieces of gear. So there is a limitation to that moniker. It’s all about imagination and visualization with that project. In the first place I did it all for fun and eventually Clone wanted to release it as three separate EPs so it worked out a little more seriously. It became better than I expected myself. I got fascinated by the genre over the last three years and I can’t imagine a life without it any more. Let’s just say I dug deeper into myself last year to create this, so in that case it’s very pure. I hope people can hear that. It’s very personal.

Can you feel some other pseudonyms in you waiting to get out too?

Last year I also did some techno projects that were released as untitled records. It’s for the people to find out what it is. It’s about the music, that’s the most important. A name is just a name.

When did you start playing live sets and have they changed/enhanced/altered the way you make tracks now?

I guess my first set was in 2008 at the Sonar festival during an RA party. My set is constantly changing and evolving. It’s never the same, not a single time. It’s a personal reflection of that moment and it has become a bit more focused to the dance floor over the years. Getting yourself in front of a crowd who wants a party techno night definitely changed my view not just on production, but on the idea of a set in general. Especially when I do a live set I tend to take the energetic tracks with me. I could just do a set for myself but that is not what is rewarding. What’s rewarding is to see people go crazy on the music and giving them some positive energy trough the music. They have to enjoy it as much as I do. I really want to give something and not be the home producer boy who is only making nice records. My sets should be something on their own and they need something extra.

You seem to be keeping up a pretty constant succession of releases. How much time to devote to making new tracks and also to performing?

At the moment my life is all about production of electronic music. I have enough time to work on various projects. I quit a very stressful job as an educator in video production last year so I decided to go for my own creativity, mainly music. Still I would never want to see it as a job, it’s just a hobby that expanded into something bigger. From time to time I also work as a freelance video producer.

What can you tell us about the mix you put together for us?

It’s a selection of the records I have at home. I did not specifically want to make a techno podcast but just a various mix of tunes I really love. It is actually the first mix in years I have made. It’s a mixture between some techno, ambient, pure electronic tracks and some house. It’s a one hour impression. Also I’ve added tracks from myself and fellow producers.

And what can we expect from you in the next year?

A few remixes for Skudge on Echocord, Jarred Wilson on Dolly. Also a Versalife remix for the new imprint Dieptepunt. Furthermore, Night Time Activities part 2 and 3 will see the light of day to complete the series.

You’ve been DJing for quite awhile here in Montreal, right?

Tazz: Well I’ve been doing it for about… maybe fifteen years?

I’d say that’s pretty extensive. How did you get into DJing and dance music in the first place?

I pretty much started like everybody else, you know, as a young kid with records. My dad was a mobile DJ, you could say… it wasn’t anything serious, but it caught onto me in a way. I pretty much grew up in a pop, commercial environment, where I was even listening to the Saturday night radio show with MC Mario, and then somehow I got into the more underground thing. I started off with pretty banging techno — Luke Slater, stuff like that — and somehow it morphed into the whole deep house thing, with guys like JoJo Flores and the Soul Mecca Parties. Now I’ve started veering back towards the techno side, but still [with the] deep, soulful [influence].

How do you think Montreal’s scene has changed since you started DJing?

Compared to the rest of the world, it’s a very small scene, but it’s vibrant. There are little groups of people everywhere. Right now, Montreal is basically Le Salon Daomé, which is very happening on the weekends, and down in the Old Port we have Club U.N. That’s the house scene, [but] of course there are random parties here and there. From there it spawns out to Mutek and Piknic Electronik, which are some of the same people anyway. Montreal, for the longest time, was stuck in a tribal phase… now there’s a lot of tech-house. But last year, MUTEK had Theo Parrish, Pépé Bradock, Dixon and Henrik, Move D… people I know were sitting there with their arms crossed, meanwhile we’re going mad. The fact that that group of people, who are mostly into tech house, started to bring back the deep stuff is pretty cool. The guys at Velvet were doing a good thing with that too, but unfortunately they stopped.

Yeah, last year they were booking Floating Points, Soul Clap…

Kyle Hall.

Yeah, that’s too bad.

And now, everybody’s in the booking mode.

This month is crazy… Ramadanman, Lone, Mary Anne Hobbs, all within a week of each other.

Yeah, even in deep house there’s Karizma, DJ Qu, Delano Smith, Ben Klock. It’s kind of a shame — there’s kind of a stable scene, but everyone’s just talking about who they’re booking.

It seems like it comes in waves, people will spend all their money and then it’ll be dry for a few months. OK, so you’ve had this long DJ career, but your first record came out last year. How long have you been producing, and why the wait?

[Laughs] I’m a computer geek, that’s what I do for work. I had been dabbling with software… I started with Rebirth, [laughs] who hasn’t touched Rebirth? Some of my friends were getting into it, but up until last year there was always a little something. There are hundreds of songs on my hard drive right now, waiting for something to happen. One day I decided to book Jus-Ed, because I was buying his records at InBeat [now-defunct record store and relative hub of the community] and thought, “Might as well book him.” We kept in touch and then one day I randomly sent him some stuff; he liked it and picked it up.

You mentioned using some software. Are hardware or any other specific gear items important to the process?

Mostly software, but I went out and bought a [Dave Smith] Mopho synthesizer. It was on the whim, retail therapy. I was talking about it for the longest time with my friend Giovanni, who I’m currently working on some records with, and he was hyping it up. I was going to get a Korg, but when I walked into the store, the guy was like, “You don’t want the Korg, you want that one!” Giovanni got his Roland 505 refurbished, so recently we’ve been incorporating a lot of hardware. To me, it’s just another avenue of creativity. It’s a new toy; it’s not plug-ins and plug-ins.

You’re not just staring at a screen.

Yeah, you’ve got the hardware right in front of you, you’re pressing buttons and twisting knobs, you get stuff done with it.

Is your stuff becoming more jam-out based with the new hardware?

Well, I take a lot of time EQing stuff. I’m not a traditional musician. My friend Bacanito, who worked with me on the first and second records, he’s basically my music man. He comes over to my place and I tell him what we want. He’s more into deep house in the traditional, soulful sense, and likes the challenge of doing something edgier, techier. We battle it out until we get something we like.

I definitely hear the balance between the propulsive and looser, soulful ends.

Yeah. I’ll give him the idea and we’ll argue about it and at some point we’re happy with it, and then I’ll put the rest of the track together. I do the layouts. Some guys release a track every week, and I have those tracks on my hard drive, but I don’t think they’re going to be coming out. Carl Craig is basically my favorite producer.World of Techno was produced based on me [studying] his records, a lot of 69 and Paperclip People, and I also like the stuff he did with Martin Buttrich, and “Caya,” “Angel.” My productions are kind of naive, not the fanciest tracks.

Were you collaborating with Bacanito and Giovanni from the beginning?

Bacanito, I met him through a friend, and she met him through Craigslist. [laughs] It wasn’t for dating! He’s a musician doing mostly keys and guitar, and she introduced us at Club Cherry, rest in peace, and we hit it off. And that’s how Acid Love came about. Giovanni, I met through clubbing.

Do you prefer collaborating?

Not being a musician, you have to get crafty — the tracks are trackier. If you get a musician, the track has a bit more to it. It’s good to have those guys around, I give them full credit. I’m the more traditional sense of producer/arranger.

Do you consider performing live at all?

Yes… no… I’m kicking myself over the head on this one, because it’s been kicked around a few times, some people have asked me if I wanted to do a live set, but it’s not there yet.

Would you want to do a whole hardware thing or…

It would probably be hardware and a DJ set. I can’t see myself clicking on a screen in Ableton.

Do you often run your tracks by friends or play them out before you release them?

Yeah, Ed helps me out with that, and the guys from Underground Quality; we all help each other, we’re all family.

What’s next for you?

Underground Quality recently released a fundraiser CD for Japan. Also, there’s a second record coming out on Tsuba, around the end of summer, with a Patrice Scott remix. It’s psychedelic, on drugs, colors. I made it with Giovanni… I haven’t heard Patrice’s mix yet. There’s an album coming out, too, on my label, Infected Rhythms, but the label name is still [up in the air]. It’s maybe techier, influenced by Model 500 and Underground Resistance, and it’s going to be released in parts later in the year.

Interview

First up how did the two of you meet?

We were both playing at the same club in Bari, Italy.

I understand you are a couple. What came first? The music or the romance?

Bruno: Actually the friendship came first. After we met in Bari we sort of hung out for a while. I was off on a tour for a while and when I came back we started to hang out more. The romance developed and then we slowly started to think about doing the music thing. I think we decided to just do a remix together and when that went well we decided to do a single… and now, well, we have an album.

Ninca: Romance came first. No, actually music. [smiles] We met playing at a party in Bari (south Italy) and I ended up jamming/singing on Bruno’s set. I have to say I hadn’t seen such a live set in ages and got tremendously excited. I remember his hook “Nobody Calls” haunting me for months after.

How do you typically work together? Are the lyrics added to the music or is the music made to fit the lyrics? Do you collaborate on both or do you have defined roles on who does what?

Bruno: I think it goes either way as far as the lyric/music thing goes. We both have some little note books around with lyrics. But sometimes the music sort of brings the lyrics. So far it’s really been both of us bringing something to the table. I’d say it’s very equal; however, Ninca does a bring a bit more of the hooks and I bring a bit more of the bass lines.

Ninca: We sometimes come up with ideas (chords, small progression, loops etc.) separately and then get together to work on it. Or we start from scratch, usually with the keyboard/Rhodes part. I think we do a 50/50 thing. Probably I write most of the melodies and I think Bruno comes up with the percussion side of things and the bass lines. But he can also come up with melodies here and there and when I’m allowed [smiles], I write a bass line! There is no special structure in the way we work. I think we are both quite free-minded persons so it wouldn’t work to have too many rules. Lyrics are most of the time added to the music, as I am also doing in my own work. We both write lines here and there on our small notebooks, and we do as well collaborate on the lyrics. I mean, Bruno’s English is quite better than mine. [laughs]

Your two releases so far have featured the behind the scenes out-takes as it were of the recordings. What has been the decision to include this in the tracks and is this a theme that will run through future Public Lover material?

Bruno: Well, we sort of wanted to add a since of transparency to the music. Our whole thing has been about intimacy, so bringing the listener in on our music makes it a sort of documentary almost. A lot of people have had problems with it, and I get it, but to me there is nothing more incredible than having a little dirtiness in the mix to make it that much more human. We both discussed the sort of over-produced music these days and how we have been a part of that. Maybe it’s our personal revolt to our own productions. As far as the future Public Lover material goes, I think there are a couple of tracks on the new album that have a little bit of room noise. We tried to keep it a bit balanced for those who like it and those who don’t.

Ninca, can you please tell us a bit about your background with singing (influences, any bands you have been in etc) and also some info on how and when you started producing.

Ninca: I’ve always been singing as far as I can remember; I studied piano and music theory at the conservatory of a regional capital in North-Western France since I was seven and we had choir lessons every week. I would make it to the next year thanks to the singing exam. After listening to New Order’s Substance andLoveless by My Bloody Valentine (two albums that were emblematic of my emotional life at the time), I did what I had to do: I ended my affair with classical music and joined a band. I played the bass and started singing “ethereal melodies” [laughs] in an indie-noise Slowdive/MBV style band. We were so impressed back then in the early 90?s with the abundance of amazing indie bands coming out. There was such an overwhelming passion for this music in our teenage time. That’s something I strongly share with Bruno, and it was hard to find someone to share it with when I moved from my hometown, either in Amsterdam or in Berlin. One can say, the fact that he told me he knew Pale Saints on our first official date made me fall in love immediately with him!

With my coming of age came my first keyboard, a second-hand Korg M1 I bought myself at 18 (following the advices of my boyfriend back then), and a move to Amsterdam, then I started voice & music production studies at the Rotterdam Conservatory. It was with the boys of a house band from Amsterdam that I had my first gigs at the Melkweg and the Paradiso in Holland. At the same time, I would always work on my own stuff at Laboratoires Leece. I started to take classical singing lessons when I was 17 and never stopped with that. Jazz and Brazilian singing came later, in my early 20?s. I studied both more deeply at the Rotterdam Conservatory. I’ve been obsessed with bands like The Smiths (Morrissey’s voice and lyrics were strongly triggering in my teenage time), New Order (Technique is one of my favorite albums) etc. Some of my strong influences as singers would obviously be Björk (though I insist we have totally different ways of singing, but I appreciate that people bring the comparison often and take it as a compliment), Kate Bush, Ella Fitzgerald, Sarah Vaughan, Maria Creuza (one of my all time favorite Brazilian singers), Chico Buarque. I still work on classical singing; it’s a very different instrument than the pop one.

Another for Ninca: You released your first 12? on your combined label last year but also a promo album on Bureau B. Tell us about the album. How long had you been working on it and what are the differences in the sound between the Bureau B release and the single for Thesongsays?

Ninca: My first album is a collection of my experiments in sound and emotions in the past 10 years — lots of funny little things, brokenhearted sounds and melodies. It’s about quirkiness, sexiness. I tried to explore with it the facets of electronic pop music in all their variations. I tried to mix a resolute pop approach to an experimental sound process, with different textures and noises, dreamlike melodies and fairy elements, using voices, synthesizing, sound design, layering, and acoustic instruments along with electronic sounds/devices and field recordings. I have been working on it on and off for five years. It was kind of a long time more or less ready when I started to look for a label. It took me a long time to finish it because besides my studies at the Conservatory and part-time jobs, I produced it all by myself with some occasional help from friends (on that song, a friend helped with mixing the bass, or on the voice mixing etc). I am a perfectionist so it was a hard job! I won’t spend hopefully so much time on my next one. I hope I can make faster decisions on sounds/arrangements etc. Bruno’s influence on that is great. He has such fast way of working, he makes very fast decisions. I can spent hours on the tiniest change of sound… nightmare!

The difference in sound between my album and the “Feed Me Rainbows” release on Thesongsays would be that “Feed Me Rainbows” is a more experimental process, has a more open structure (which you can already find on my album with tracks such as “The Beast” or “Up To You”) and don’t have so much of a pop influence in it. As much as I love working in a songwriting form, I need to keep the freedom to explore music without a clear structure. I have no problem with having a pop element/influence in my work, but I don’t want to be restricted to it, and working on stuff like “Feed Me Rainbows” is very important to me. But in my opinion both sound dreamy, warmly emotive with surreal fantasy; elements which belong strongly to my music. Also I’m already using those droning guitars on few tracks on my debut album. Right now I’m working on my new EP and new material for my second album, with both more open structure and more songs-like stuff.

What is your set-up like for your live shows? And did you always see the Public Lover project as a live act or was it originally just going to be a studio thing?

Bruno: Our live set up is pretty simple. Ninca plays a couple of synths that we built in Logic and a couple of Rhodes pianos. We run those in Logic and rewiring into Live where we have a pretty hefty amount of loops that we trigger. Ninca also runs her vocals through Ableton Live with a handful of effects she is controls on a 16 channel mixer. In addition we use a Jomox888 for some analog percussion and a Jomox Mbase01 for our kick drums.

There is a wonderful chemistry that is shared between real life and musical partners that can be amazing (White Stripes in the early days, Sonny & Cher) or not so amazing (John & Oko, Sonny & Cher again). Please discuss.

So far our chemistry has been better than expected. Usually after a bit of collaborating somebody gets bored or upset or both. I think we have been pretty good about knowing our limits. If we have a bad day in the studio, we tend to politely decide to end the session and wait for another day rather then continue to try to trudge through and create bigger problems. Live is great as well. I think we really shine in that environment because we both pretty much have the same ideas of how we want to treat a crowd and what kind of music to make to get us there.

As you are both solo artists as well, do you need to implement strict control over your collaborations and time in the studio together so that your own productions don’t bleed into your Public Lover material?

No, not at all. We discuss when we want to work. It has never really been a problem when one wants to work and the other has solo work to tend to. When both of us need solo work to finish then the other pretty much works on solo work.

Can you tell us about the set that you have made for us.

Bruno: This mix was done over a fragmented two week period. We really wanted to add a sense of improvisation to this one. we woke up everyday and dedicated our time to making 10 minutes of new, usable material. For the most part this is all material we came up with just for this podcast. We do use a couple of pieces from old live sets and a track that are already released, but in general these are sketches of tracks to come. Thanks for putting that fire under our ass!

What can we expect from Public Lover in the next year?

We have an album done now, give or take a track or two. So now we are pretty much tightening up mixes and deciding on which tracks and in what order. We also are planning a tour of Europe this summer and the U.S. in the fall.

Interview

How long have you been producing? I think I read that the name FaltyDL dates back to when you were 12 or 13…

Drew Lustman: The name comes from when I had an AOL email account, so that must have been the mid-90?s, or whenever AOL was big. I literally just picked out of the blue “FaltyDL,” and I didn’t spell it right. And naturally I was thinking of a producer name in 2004 or 2005, when I was just starting to make music, and I was like, “Fuck it, go with FaltyDL, try it.”

Were you in New York when you started making music?

No, I was still in New Haven, Connecticut.

… because one of the things I wanted to ask you about was that your music, to me, sounds unmistakably New York in a number of ways. There’s this level in which you’re pulling from all of these classic New York sounds — the garage influence, house. There’s also something of the cosmopolitan nature of New York, because you’re bringing in a lot of sounds from other places like the UK. And then there’s the workaholic nature of your output: you have this sort of “i-banker”-style release schedule. All these things add up to something that’s unmistakably New York. What do you see as the influence of this city on your sound? Did you come here to make this music, or did you get here and this music just happened?

That’s a great question. That’s a great analogy too, with the i-banker thing. One of the biggest influences, I think, of being in New York for me, or any major metropolitan city, is just — the rate at which people create and work in the city is incredible. Everything is so fast, and everyone is so prolific at whatever they do. But yeah, I basically feel like if I spend a day and I don’t do something towards my musical output or whatever, I feel like I’ve wasted a whole day. And it’s really tough. I’ve had to sort of relax and chill out and be okay with not making music all the time, because no one wants to hang out with someone who can only talk about one thing, you know what I mean?

So no, I didn’t come here to make music; I came to New York to go to City College. I did about a semester and a half, maybe two semesters at City College. I was 24 when I moved to New York, or 25? 24, 23… I don’t remember. It was my third attempt to try to go to school, and I was like, “Nah.” I thought I could do it, but really I just wanted to come to New York. And as far as talking to my folks and my friends in New Haven, I was like, “I bet I could go there and go to school,” and they were like, “Yeah, that’s great, go to school.” So I moved to New York and was like, “Eh, screw it, I’m not into the school thing.” But I was going for a sonic arts degree, and I was in these really boring, dry classes just talking about sine waves and partials, which is super interesting, but I’d rather just play with that and experiment and figure it out on my own. I sort of hate being in a classroom, although I love learning and I love teaching, and I respect teachers so much. I have taught in my life, and I respect learning, and I respect passing down knowledge. But [this school experience] was so boring and dry for me. I’d get home at night and be like, “Ahhh, I gotta make some music!”

[From there,] FaltyDL just took off and in 2007, 2008 I started making a lot of tracks. Part of that was just living in New York, too, and having friends that were busy in the arts scene. I have a friend who’s a sculptor who was always taking me to all these shows. And I was seeing how much stuff was actually happening here, and it was incredible. So New York was a catalyst, but I wouldn’t say I came here specifically to do [FaltyDL]. It was a pleasant surprise, coming here and finding out that I could do that.

So you do have some formal training in music?

Yes.

… but not in production.

Not in production, no. I mean, again, a semester and a half of sleeping in classes was pretty much my [education]. Like, I basically taught myself all the programs that I use, just by trial and error over the years. I probably do some things the long way, and I probably do some things the short way, I’m not sure. But yeah, I grew up taking the Suzuki method [music lessons where ear training is emphasized before music reading, the idea being that music is learned similarly to how language is learned]—

Me too, actually, with piano.

I did that with flute at first and then with the bass. I’m so glad I did that, because it developed my ear really well. And I still definitely use that.

You say you do some things the short way and some things the long way. I mean, whatever you’re doing is working, so let’s talk about your workflow. How do you get started on a track?

I get started with any number of things. The big thing, usually, is just the motivation to create, like, “I need to be making something.” So that’s what gets me to the computer. And then it’s a sample: I’ll find a sample I really love, or a part of a song, and I’ll say, “I really want to use that!” So I’ll start [in earnest] with a sample. I used to start with drums, and I used to start with synths and bass and stuff like that, but now I start with samples, and I think my music has become a lot more organic in the sense that there’s a lot more sampling going on. I’m not into [doing] all that much synthesis, I’m not really into that aspect anymore.

So I’ll sit down with a sample, and I’ll start playing with it on my keyboard: I’ll start messing with a filter, I’ll start messing with the pitch, I’ll find a point that sort of loops it, I’ll find the BPM where I can get a tight loop with it, I’ll find parts of the sample that I want to accentuate with a drum hit here and there, then I’ll find another sample. Honestly, and I’ve said this before, at the point at which I start and am happy with the sample I’m working with, I almost have this sort of artistic blackout, like I don’t really know exactly — I feel like I’m almost possessed, like it’s just happening and I’m like sitting there watching myself make this beat. Hours can go by, and I’ll be done with the track later that afternoon. Or, it can be really frustrating and I’ll get nowhere, and I’ll just end up looking on the Internet and answering emails and talking shit with friends, you know what I mean? But for the most part, I’ve been able to be really focused.

Where do you go to look for samples?

Everywhere. I mean, someone will link me to a YouTube thing, and it’ll sound great. And then I’ll be looking on the side of YouTube, and I’ll find another thing. I’ll go somewhere, and then I’ll go somewhere else, and then I’ll go to another link, and I’ll find something. My iTunes library is — I don’t know how many songs I have in here [starts clicking around on his computer], I think I have probably… 160 gigabytes of music, which is a lot of music. I used to have more, actually, but my last computer crashed. So I’ll go into my own library. I recycle a lot of samples, too. Because I write so much music, a lot of it doesn’t come out, so I’ll go back to a song that I started one day, and I’ll be like, “Oh, I still like that sample, but the rest of the track is crap,” and I’ll work from there.

You’re just producing music now, right?

Yeah, I’m just producing and playing gigs. That’s been pretty much the last eight months or so. I’ve been really lucky to go on a lot of tours that have been incredibly life-changing musically and also financially; it’s been able to help me do this.

Let’s go back, then, and talk about how You Stand Uncertain first came together. When did you start working on it?

Start and stop point is really difficult, because… I’m making tracks right now that may get released in four years. The way that I’ve done the two albums with Planet Mu is that I’ve just sent as much stuff as possible over to [label head] Mike Paradinas. When he starts to feel like there’s enough tracks to get together for a release, whether it’s a single, an EP, or an album, we’ll start the email conversation. He’ll say, “I want to release this, this, and this, maybe we can do this,” and usually they grow into larger projects like albums. That’s how the first album started: one track grew into a single grew into an EP grew into an album pretty quickly. Some of those tracks were made months before it was released, and some were made years before it was released.

So when you started working on the tracks that eventually became You Stand Uncertain, you didn’t yet have an album in mind?

I try not to — well you know, actually, about halfway through, I did. You know, my sound is always changing, so I start to get a bigger picture of, “Oh, these tracks actually go together. These are album tracks, not singles; this isn’t just a dance floor thing.” So yeah, at one point, I started to feel like these [six or seven tracks] were actually gelling together, and then I get into that mode where I want to make a lot of things like that. But I try not to focus too much on working towards an album or anything else, because I don’t want to stress myself out too much with worrying about where it’s going to land.

That said, I really wanted You Stand Uncertain to sound like an album. I enjoy an album that you can just put on the record player and walk away and listen to the whole side and then flip it, you know what I mean? I didn’t want it to be a collection of dance tracks, and I think we really did a good job of curating it this way.

With the new record, though, you managed to make something that is really cohesive. When I listen to it, I hear something that thematically totally goes together, that makes sense as a unit. And from a production sense, it seems like a real step forward for your sound. So as you were sending tracks to Planet Mu, were they saying, “This stuff is different. Let’s do something big with this stuff”?

I mean, it just happens really naturally. Mike will start to say to me, “I really like the sound of these tracks,” and he’ll throw out a few adjectives, and I’ll throw out a few adjectives about what the tracks sound like to us, and that encourages me to do more like that. [The album] is definitely a new direction for me, and I think, for me, a new standard of production. In two years I might think that this is crap, and I’ll be doing something totally different. But this is where I’ve been for the last 12 to 14 months, so for me it’s not that new. Like, the tracks I’m actually making right now I think are even more developed in some ways. It’s hard to go back and recreate a sound; I couldn’t go back and make tracks like I did on Love Is A Liability.

Were there any big influences on this project? Was there anything in specific you were listening to as the album was coming together that you think colored your work on it?

Yes and no. There was stuff that I was listening to that got me in the mood to make music. But the stuff I think [the album] actually sounds like is dusty old rave records and weird IDM stuff. There are a lot of funk samples, like Herbie Hancock is someone I was listening to at the time. But what I was listening to was albums. I was listening to things that inspired me to create a body of work, not a single track. Like I’d listen to albums and be like, “This track is great, this track is great,” and they’d all be amazing, but I wouldn’t be like, “I want to make an album like this one track.” I’d want to make an album that was cohesive like that album was.

You Stand Uncertain is the first time you’ve worked with vocalists. How did that process work?

To be fair, I did do a track on my first album with a vocalist. I had complete control, though; she was like, “Here are some riffs, use them however you want, don’t even worry about crediting me.” And I was like, “Are you sure?”

But yeah… once we decided that this should really sound like an album, we talked about what could make it sound a little bit different and more developed than just an instrumental album, [and we decided] some vocals could really help. The first thought I had was this one woman, Anneka, who’s done some other tracks with people on Planet Mu, and I know she’s very approachable, very professional, and just sounds lovely. So that worked very naturally and very quickly. She recorded all these beautiful parts and harmonies, so it was so easy to figure out how to use them.

How did that start? Did she send you stuff first, or did you—

No, I sent her the tracks. I talked to Mike [Paradinas] about getting in touch with her, and he gave me her email. We didn’t know each other, but we have a lot of mutual friends through the label, so it wasn’t so much of a… we weren’t really coming from different worlds, we’re sort of in the same circle of friends, in a sense. So yeah, I just sent her like three tracks, and she was like, “I want to try this one,” and I was like, “Go for it.” It came back in my inbox like a day later, and it was sick.

Another thing I noticed about this record — and this has been a trend I’ve been hearing in your records for maybe the last six months — is that the tempos have come way down from where they were earlier in your career. For me, the anthem of this record is “Voyager,” which clocks in at 108 BPM or something.

Yeah, 107. That’s my favorite track on the album.

Mine, too. So is anything going on there? When you first started producing, you were doing stuff that was really fast, like breakcore tempos. And then you worked your way down to dubstep tempos, like 130 to 140. Now you’re all the way down at “Voyager.” Was going slower a conscious decision, or are you just continuing to find new ways into the pocket?

Yeah… to find something I can sort of swim around in. I think I just get bored at doing any one thing for too long. The other day, though, I went back and made a track that was at about 140, 135 or something. I’ve tried to make a few little juke tunes here and there, at 150. I did one that was pretty good with Machinedrum, actually. But yeah, I just found that 107 to 118 — like, you can just swing so hard in that pocket, or you can be really, really rigid too, and it’s just so much fun. My sets these days, I’m starting off at that tempo, and I’m really just getting into the groove.

What’s getting play in your DJ sets these days?

It depends on what time of the night I’m playing. Ideally, I get to play a lot of the slower stuff… I get to start around 110 BPM and play a whole bunch of house, into some Theo Parrish edits, into some Anthony “Shake” Shakir edits and all these different things that sound so fresh to me, even though I know they’re a little bit older. And then I work up to — well, it depends on who’s playing after me. I try to be pretty conscious of being respectful to the dance floor and what the people are there to do. I don’t want to just go out there and do whatever I want to do. I’ve done that before and cleared floors, you know? It’s like, “Oh, I’m gonna play a track that’s 130 and then a track that’s 180 and then a track that’s 110,” and it’s like, c’mon. Like that’s fun; if you’re going to make a podcast, then go for it. But like, you’ve got a responsibility to the dance floor. People are there to dance. So just something cohesive. The other night, I played from 3 to 4 AM, so I started at 125 and I ended at 170. It was great. In an hour, I got all the way there.

How about your live set? What goes into putting that together?

Taking apart and stripping down a lot of my tracks, finding loops that I like, playing them together and finding good combinations. I also take apart other people’s tracks. A lot of time goes into this, actually. Man, it was so stressful getting together my first live set. This keyboard [he pulls one out from under his workspace]—there’s a piece of scotch tape on every button, and most of what’s written on them doesn’t make any sense to me anymore. And that’s only like eight tracks worth of samples on that keyboard. I used to have a cheat sheet in front of me, too, because you can change the scenes on the keyboard, or go down an octave. So I’d have this other piece of paper in front of me, too, because I couldn’t have two pieces of tape [on a button], and it would say what was on that button two octaves down. It was so stressful trying to get through a live set. I’d see people do it so well, like SBTRKT’s set on — I don’t know what hardware he uses, but he attacks that thing. Gold Panda’s live set is incredible, too… he’s got a lot of synths up there, and he yells in the microphone and jumps all over the place. So I don’t know. I’ll get together something. As long as I can fit my entire live set in my backpack, I’ll be happy with it.

Let’s talk a little about what’s going on in New York right now. There’s a lot of cool stuff happening, and a lot of collaboration: there’s Sepalcure, there are these Percussion Lab Radio sets where everyone comes out who’s in town, there’s whatever Dave Q is behind on a given weekend. What do you see as your place in this scene, and based on what you’ve seen in your travels, where is the scene’s place in bass music worldwide?

I think New York is huge, and there are scenes I have no idea about, obviously. There are scenes that I do know about that I choose not to be a part of, just because I’m lazy and I want to be home, and I want to hang out with my friends. Most of the friends I spend time with have nothing to do with music; they enjoy music, obviously — we’ll go out together — but they aren’t musicians. I think there’s a lot happening in Brooklyn… it’s fucking bubbling. However, I don’t think it holds a candle to the amount of energy in other cities in Europe, because here, there are fewer nights that I would choose to go to and have a good time at. However, the ones that are here I think are curated fantastically. Like everything Dave Q’s done in the past five years that I’ve gone to, I’ve just absolutely loved. And Twisup, his new night, is incredible. Percussion Lab Radio is amazing, too… I was on it last night with Daedalus and Machinedrum and Praveen [Sharma]. I think… [laughs]

I don’t know if I’m getting older, but I don’t really care so much about going out all the time and being part of something. I really, honestly, truly enjoy my time spent at home and in low-key environments. When I do go on tour, I get my fill of [going out and being part of a scene], and I’m good for about three or four months. I guess the long answer I’m giving you is that even though I am a producer from Brooklyn in this whatever-genre-you-want-to-call-it, I don’t have the best answer about how much of a scene there is here. I feel like there’s probably a lot — there are people who are a hell of a lot more involved and push it further than I do, you know what I mean? Maybe I’m copping out… maybe I’m not being totally honest. [Laughs] You know I wish there was more happening here, but again, there is a lot, I’m just not choosing to be a part of all of it. I think the quality is high, though. The quality is fucking high in Brooklyn, I gotta say that. If the quantity is not high, the quality is fucking amazing.

So you wouldn’t really see a need to defect to Berlin or London, because that would just mean more going out.

Financially, it would make sense for me, to be honest. If I lived in Berlin or in London, I would play more gigs, and I would get booked more because there would be no international flights involved. But my family and my roots are here, and I just love New York. Like, it’s fucking New York, it’s amazing, it’s the best city in the world. I wouldn’t want to go anywhere else.

Continuing on about scenes… you mentioned to me when I first got here that you were booked to play South by Southwest this year, and that you’re playing more in the states. It feels like there’s this new energy in the U.S. for dance music. Have you come across that in your travels?>

Uh… it’s interesting. It seems like my life is very focused on a particular type of dance music. However, [there are lots of] parties that have people like The Juan Maclean and LCD Soundsystem and Mark Farina spinning, and that’s been going on forever. So if you’re into a certain type of house scene… I mean, that’s been huge for a long time. When dubstep exploded over here, it was the crazy wobble stuff, which — shit on or not — [that music makes for] some pretty intense parties. And so I’d get booked to go play those at first. I’d go up there and do my thing, and I’d clear a dance floor.

Now I think, honestly, with a lot of the indie crossover albums — and I’m not quite sure what I mean by that, but I’ll use the example of the Caribou album Swim, and the last Four Tet album, and the Gold Panda album, and the Mount Kimbie album, and the James Blake album — there’s a real aesthetic to the sound that’s unique to all those albums: it’s something very tangible and tactile to a whole bunch of different audiences. And I don’t think it’s on purpose: they’re the work of just really genuinely brilliant musicians making amazing music for the sake of making music, and it’s received very well by a lot of different people. That opens the doors for so much different stuff, and it’s refreshing and wonderful, and I’m so grateful for it.

A lot of the stuff that’s gotten big has been the stuff that’s more difficult to define, you know? Like, it’s hard to say that Mount Kimbie is doing dubstep, or that James Blake is doing dubstep. It seems like the indie scene has just become more open to electronic sounds, and dance music just goes along with that.

You mean dance music follows that?

Yeah. Or that, if people are going to be listening to more electronic music, maybe they’ll be open to seeing a DJ instead of a band.

I think we have to stop saying who follows who, because I think at the end of the day, they’re all just musicians, and they’re all just producers. Take Radiohead… what was they’re ’97 album, was that Kid A or OK Computer?

’97 would have been OK Computer.

Okay. So what would they have been listening to when they made OK Computer? They were probably listening to Aphex Twin, Squarepusher… I don’t know what they were listening to, to be honest. So what follows what? What was Aphex Twin listening to? Probably nothing. [Laughs all around] But you know what I mean? Sure, everything’s influenced by everything, but the type of producers who I know are so dedicated and have such a deep feeling inside of themselves that they have to create music, that it comes from somewhere that is totally on its own. Sure, you’re influenced by things that you hear, but I don’t think that they’re necessarily all following indie rock.

I think we’re getting a little off-track, although I’m with you 100% on this point… these are really excellent points. I was talking specifically about audiences and how their reception has changed to dance music. My experience has been that audiences are more receptive to this music now, and I was wondering if that was something you’d noticed in your experience.

I think a big part of that is because the press and the scene say it’s okay to like that. And by that I mean, they’ve given a lot of coverage to it. You want to go out there and have something you know. If you’re listening to something that doesn’t have an easy 4/4 kick, that’s not super easy to dance to — if you don’t know the track inside and out because you’ve heard it on five different blogs and you’ve had it on your iPod for the last six months, you might not like it when you’re there at the club. I think the press is incredibly important in that it lets people hear things; it gives people time to sit with the album. Like for instance, let’s say you saw Mount Kimbie play their whole album, and you’d never heard it, and the press had never said anything about it… you might be terrified by it. I mean, it’s gorgeous, but you’d be like, “This is sonically beautiful, but I’m not sure I understand this yet.” Or you might get it, because it’s kind of tangible. But it helps to know something for awhile, to sit with it. And then you can feel like you’re having a more personal connection with the music when you’re at the club listening to it. I don’t even know if I’m answering your question yet.

No, I think this is really interesting stuff. But we’ve reached the point in the interview where I have to ask the token Falty-is-a-former-sushi-chef question. Where’s the best place to get it in New York?

Oh my God, so many places. There’s a few places right around the NYU area that I love. There’s one called Tomoe, which is on… shit!

Thompson Street, right? I’ve been there!

Incredible! Incredible! Affordable, incredible sushi! The place is no frills, but it’s like—oh, it’s so good. And then there’s Marumi, which is a couple of blocks away, around Houston and Bleecker. [It's on Laguardia Place. – Ed.] The expensive ones like Nobu and Blue Ribbon are amazing, but you’re going to just spend so much money there. Oh! The best place is on St. Marks between First and Second Avenue, called Natori. I lived right down the street and would literally go in there four times a week, and they would be like, “Drew! What’s going on?” You go in there, and there’s a really cool waitstaff that comes and greets you at the door, and they bring you like five menus, like all these little laminated menus. And they always have crazy — like, they have alligator on their menu, and all these really bizarre things. But the quality of fish there is incredible. And they also play this epic muzak the entire time, like MIDI versions of crazy Frank Zappa tunes and Celine Dion songs, and then some Japanese girl band doing something like covering a Metallica song. Really weird music! But they’re not weird people. And I don’t even think they know how weird it is that they’re playing that music; that’s the bonus, is that this is just normal.

So you grew up in Detroit right?

Ryan Elliot: Correct. I grew up on the west side of Detroit and I lived there my whole life until a year and a half ago when I moved to Berlin. I mean I went to university in a small town half way between Detroit and Chicago called Kalamazoo, but that’s still kind of Detroit.

So growing up there I guess you discovered electronic music at a fairly young age.

Yeah I mean I guess the perfect kind of answer for this interview would be that I first went to the Music Institute when I was twelve years old and then went to Richie’s Plastikman parties… but I didn’t. I discovered it from the radio. Even still today they have the “Drive at Five” show and they’ll do a live DJ mix on the radio and they are sprinkled with hip hop, booty, electro — like proper old school electro, and Detroit techno. So I was introduced to the first Submerge records through the radio… and I forgot how strange it is to hear a live mix on the radio. When I went home for Christmas and was driving from one family member’s house to another and “Nights of the Jaguar” came on the radio and I was just thinking there’s no other place where you’d get that playing on commercial radio.

So is Detroit really known for championing its own music?

I mean you’ve still got Derrick and Kevin and Juan, they’re not so much on the production front but they’re touring every weekend and they’re still flying the flag. People like Theo, Moodymann, Kyle Hall and Omar S, they’re there, living there, they’re in the trenches. But even with rock, like with the White Stripes and further back than that, there’s always been this thing with Detroit and music. Though I guess I have a very biased opinion. [laughs]

When you were starting to get into DJing and production did you feel like there was some sort of Detroit legacy you needed to uphold?

Yeah, for sure, and even now at over 80% of the shows I play someone comes up to me and says, “Oh you’re from Detroit huh,” because they know of all the associations that entails. I mean, I’m no Derrick May but yeah I do definitely feel that I have to uphold that legacy and fly the flag for Detroit.

So back in the day you’d get people like Derrick or Mike Banks mentoring people as they came up. Does that sort of thing happen today? Or did you get some yourself?

Well I came up with Matthew Dear so he was always a very good mentor to me. I don’t know Theo and those guys as well but I do think there has been some mentoring between him and Alex [Omar-S]. I mean, Detroit is not a posh city at all so there is very much a feeling of helping each other, you know, like we’re in this together, let’s stick together and help each other any way we can. I think that comes through with the production as well, with people lending each other gear and that sort of thing.

So how did you start out with Spectral Sound?

That’s a funny story. I never really got into DJing until I came back from university; I’ve always been a late bloomer in life with everything. So I started going out to clubs more and it was a natural progression. I became interested in what the DJs were doing, started trainspotting and all that. So my friends and I were living together and we bought some decks and learned to beat-match and all of that. Then a friend of mine from high school worked at this bar and they wanted to start an “electronic night,” so he suggested me because he knew I DJed. So I went and gave them a CD and they asked me to come in and try it out for a while. On the first night I played Matt [Dear] came in and said, “Hey I’m a DJ too, I really like what you played, can I come play with you next week?” and there was never a second thought about having him come do it with me. So that’s how it started and we did every Tuesday for about four years. It wasn’t just doing it, it was taking our own decks in and all that, they just had the sound system. So by the end of it he was touring more and I was starting to do a bit so I would play on my own or we’d get someone else to sub in for both of us. Then through meeting Matt I met Sam [Valenti] who owns both Ghostly International and Spectral Sound, so I eventually met the whole crew. And you know when you meet certain people and you just instantly gel and it’s like they’ve instantly close friends, it was like that.

So what year was it that you started that residency?

That must have been 2001.

And from the get-go were you interested in making tracks?

No, not at all. I wasn’t interested in making records for a long time actually. For me everything happens very slowly. So once I started buying records and then DJing, after a long time I started doing the odd edit or two. Then maybe a remix that wasn’t even released and then slowly it progressed into production. But you know, I think I’ll always consider myself a DJ first.

Yeah it’s interesting, I mean despite seeing your name for quite a while, that your recent Ostgut Ton release was your first proper twelve.

Yeah that’s my first ever EP. I’ve been flying around the world DJing for about ten years now but I have to say I was really proud to actually see my record on the wall in DJ shops. I actually have a funny story. I always shop at Hard Wax and Rotation here in Berlin every week– it’s part of my routine. I was listening to records in Rotation and this young guy comes in and he’s picking records off the wall and I got all excited because he picked my record. I was all like, “here we go, he’s going to listen to it” and he puts it in his stack and he listens to everything and then he put it back and didn’t buy it. So within five minutes I was all excited because he’d chosen to listen to my record then all bummed out because he didn’t buy it. [laughs] It’s funny because I mean it’s selling well and I’ve gotten good feedback on it but this really bummed me out for a couple minutes. Then after I walked out of the store I have a laugh about it. I mean life is good, I have nothing to complain about.

You know it’s pretty rare that you have been DJing around for the past ten years or so and have only recently been producing as well. For a long time now it’s been near impossible to have a DJ career without being a producer too.

Yeah and I’ve said it before, that for a while [the way I got gigs] was through playing with Matt when he would go tour, and I have no qualms about admitting that. But my thing was, if that was the case I had to show the promoter that I was a really good DJ so I would get booked again. But yeah, I was also very lucky that my first ever international gig was at Fabric. And Judy from Fabric has always been very nice and so have the guys from Berghain — for whatever reason a few of these really big clubs around the world took an interest in me very early on and I’ll never forget that. I was very lucky for that, so when that happens you have to make sure that you show up and you let them know that they did the right thing by booking you.

Did you ever have any career ambitions outside of DJing?

Yeah I worked for one of the big three auto-makers in Detroit for ten years. I was a financial analyst, a currency trader. I only left that job when I moved to Berlin. I mean I started there when I started doing that residency with Matthew, so as my job started getting more involved, so I was also getting more into DJing and following that side of things. But yeah it got hard to keep my mind on the jobby job, especially as it involved a lot of math, so Monday’s were never my favorite day. But I have lots of funny stories about those times. I think the worst it ever got was I worked late on a Thursday, then flew first thing on Friday to Tokyo, played there on Saturday night, then straight back and went to work on Monday morning. All of that and only plane sleep — if that even counts for anything.

Did you ever get called out by the boss and told to chose which path you wanted to go down?

No, I mean they were actually very understanding about the music. They knew that was my first love, but also I was good at my job and always did a good job for them so they tolerated the other side. But I mean, at the end I felt bad because I’m not a good multi-tasker so it was definitely time to go.

What was it that made you leave Detroit?

Well I was playing in Europe so much that it just seemed logical to do it. And my parents even said to me that I should do it, that they wished they had the chance to chase their dreams like that. I had never lived outside of Detroit and Berlin felt so similar to Detroit too. I also had such a good relationship with the Ostgut guys too, so although making everything happen and actually moving was hard, the decision to do it was easy.

Just getting back to Spectral for a moment, how did you ge into the A&R role with them?

Matthew and I split the role, and I guess it was because we were the ones who were buying records each week and the ones getting promos from other people who were maybe opening for us and things like that. We were the ones in the trenches so it just seemed like the easiest thing.

How broad or specific has the vision been for the label?

The same as Ghostly really, it’s very broad. We have things like acid from James Cotton, or then Todd Osborne who is pretty hard to categorize. Then people like Subb-An who has just done a really great record for us, who is kind of new school. I would say the only thing we really make a priority is that it must work for a DJ, it has to be geared for the dance floor. We always just know when something comes in whether it’s something for us or not.

Electronic labels take a very different approach with their artists than the majors do, but if perhaps you took a newer artist on are there instances where you will help that person develop their sound and their career?

Yeah, of course. I mean, we have a core family but if we receive a demo from someone who really blows my hair back then we take them on and if they keep coming up with great releases they become part of the core family.

So are you still in that role?

Yeah, the role hasn’t changed; Matt and I still do that.

So what is your relationship with Ostgut?

Well I’m a recording artist for them and they handle my DJ bookings. I hold a monthly residency either at Panorama Bar or Berghain depending on the month, it changes.

OK, you also did the mix of the Fünf comp too?

Yeah I did the cassette mix for them, mixing the back catalogue for them. I mean I started with Spectral and that’s my U.S. home, but being here, Ostgut is such a nice crew to be a part of. I mean I play on Sunday at Panorama Bar and I start at 10pm and I know it’ll go ’til who knows when on Monday. And all the artists are so genuine and they all care so much about their DJing and their productions. I mean, not that I’ve come across many people who aren’t that passionate, but when I met them I was like, “Wow, I’m home.”

It does seem like many people in that Berlin scene is definitely into the music for all the right reasons.

Playing at Panorama Bar and Berghain, I always take my DJing very seriously. I mean, I told you, I always record shop every week, sometimes twice a week, but when you know that you’re going to come into Panorama Bar on Sunday, you know that probably half of the crowd is just there to lose themselves and have fun, but the other half are probably all DJs or promoters and they know the records you’re playing. So it really makes you up your game because you know you’re playing to all these people, so it makes me strive to be a better DJ.

Back to your EP for a second, were you approaching it at all from the point of you also being an A&R? Like thinking, OK, these are the things I would be looking out for, I know there should be this and this and this in it to be more appealing and that sort of thing?

No, any time I sit down to produce now — and maybe this will change when I become a more accomplished producer — but right now the way I approach production is with my DJing experience, what works best on the floor. These subtle bass shifts, these ins and outs of certain sounds that I know just always work, that’s what I’m trying to recreate and capture. So really with my productions right now, I’m not interested in adding twenty elements of something. If you can add four or five or six really good elements and you can sequence those in a clever and interesting way then that’s all you really need. My biggest influences are Hood, Mills, the old Studio 1 records, Baby Ford, people like that. You don’t need a lot when it’s that good. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not comparing myself to those guys, but those are the only elements you need to rock a dance floor. It’s not rocket science. Wolfgang Voigt is an absolute master. You can rattle off ten different genres and he’s at the top of the game. His Red Bull lecture he did was so good, they’re a great resource for anyone who needs inspiration. But he was saying that in his lecture, that you can make the most amazing track from about four different sounds, if it’s done well enough.

So how much are you devoting to production right now?

Well I’m DJing every weekend and I try to take Monday as a rest day, but Tuesday through Thursday I’m at it in the studio. I’m just sprinkling the last little bits of pixie dust on to my debut EP for Spectral, which will come out this summer, so I will keep the ball rolling.

Do you feel like once you enter that realm of releasing you have to keep it up and keep your name out there?

No, I don’t. I don’t think an artist should create that way. A painter should paint when they feel like painting. If a painter paints because they need money then they’re not really a painter. It’s finally struck me that I can actually produce — and in the past I have wondered whether I would be adding anything, but I think I can now and I think this can continue. But if there’s ever a patch where I have to force it, then I’ll go back to doing something else. Production-wise I very much want to stay as an artist.

What can you tell us about the mix you’ve done for us?

The mix was recorded in a studio in Berlin using two Technics, two CDJs, and a Looper — my normal DJ set up. It was done in one live take, to get a nice feel and flow, and then pulled into some sound editing software to do a few edits and add a couple of effects. Now that I think about it, the mix was recorded in the exact opposite environment of a club setting (alone, middle of the afternoon, in sun filled and clean studio), but still does very much represent one of my current sets. I play anywhere from deep house to tough techno, depending on the show. This mix definitely lands more on the techno side, but also isn’t too banging because I realize most people are listening to podcasts while they work during the day, on their iPod while doing their daily commute or exercising, or in a car.

Content wise, it’s simply what’s in my bag at the moment. I always play a mix of old, new, and to be released stuff in my sets. I’m totally back into all my old late ’90s/early ’00s techno, so you’ll hear User and Killabite towards the end of the mix. EQD, Mills, Rolando, Skudge, and DVS1 can do no wrong in my book, so they represent some of the current tracks. I also want to mention a new act that I’m super excited about called The Express. I’ve featured two tracks from them in the mix that will be forthcoming on their own STOK label. Keep an eye on these guys as they have loads of excellent material coming soon. I hope everyone enjoys the mix as much as I did making it.

You’ve partly answered this already but what can we expect from Ryan Elliott in the next year?

Yeah, well the EP for sure and then more production. And really I’m sort of gearing up for the summer because that’s a big time for the DJ. So I’m just loading up my techno gun full of tasty bullets [laughs] to unleash on the dance floor. Techno soldiers, that’s my motto.

Interview

It has become difficult over the years to distinguish exactly who makes up Octave One, other than that you are all brothers. Can you please give us a run down of how you formed and the inclusion of different family members in to the group.

Octave One: Octave One formed in 1989 with the production of our first song recorded being included on the Virgin/10 Records Techno 2 album. We had found out from Derrick May that our track was to be released as a single from that album and that writers were coming over to do an article and their photographer was going to be shooting pictures of us the next day. This put us totally in shock because we were just recording that track for our sake, just to have it in our collection and we didn’t even realize it was sent for consideration for that album. So we (Lawrence, Lenny, Lynell) all decided on the fly to become a group literally in Derrick May’s loft to fulfill the need of having a band to represent our song “I Believe.” Derrick was like, “What’s the name of your band?” Fortunately for us, he got called away for a few minutes after he asked us this question, because we had absolutely no idea of what we were going to call ourselves seeing that the band was just formed minutes earlier. We had the opportunity to have a quick huddle and throw some names in the air to see what stuck and settled on the name One Octave because we wanted a name that represented all three of us working in the same accord musically. But after we kept saying One Octave over and over a few times it started to sound like an old soul band other than a techno group, so we flipped the words around to Octave One.

When we formed the group our other two brothers (Lance and Lorne) weren’t even teens yet, they might have been nine and six years old. They used to come in our studio all the time which we had relocated to our parents’ home and made all kind of noise with their toys, so we would throw them out. After a while they learned that if they stayed quiet we wouldn’t notice they were in there with us and they would stay and watch what we were doing. Little did we know, they were doing more than just watching when we left. Lawrence would always tell everyone when he was leaving not to touch the mixing desk because he had a mix up he was working on. And, when we would return to the studio he’d have a fit acusing us (Lenny & Lynell) of changing the levels on his mix. We mean, he would be fussing hot upset! [laughs] One day we all rolled into the studio at the same time to hear loud music coming out of it and ran into the room to find our younger brothers playing with our gear! Of course, we were shocked and upset at the same time, but none of us said a word because the lil’ guys were pretty decent! They weren’t rock stars, but you could hear their potential early on and with very little work they could turn out to be some solid producers. We would retire pieces of equipment and hand them down to them so they could have their own production set up outside of our studio. Slowly they would start adding a line or two to a track we were working on and one day while were working on a Random Noise Generation track one of their lines made it to the final mix. Before we knew it they were regulars in Octave One with the rest of us.

Did you all have a very musical upbringing?

Coming up in the Burden household required that we all took up some sort of formal musical training. It was really our mom’s decision to push us into music because she always liked to have the sound of music playing around the house, so she said. [laughs] But we suspect it was because she had heard that if she paraded us to piano lessons early Saturday morning while all of our buddies were outside throwing balls around, she could keep us out of trouble and know where we were. [laughs]

What is the age gap between you all?

The age gap between us (well, we hope you can keep up) from the oldest to the youngest is this: Between Lawrence, Lenny, Lynell is exactly two years and between Lynell and Lance is an eleven year gap, then there is an three year gap between Lance and Lorne. Oldest to youngest: Lawrence, Lenny, Lynell, Lance and Lorne.

What were your early influences in pursuing electronic music?

Wow, our early influences could run the musical map. You’re talking about five guys that all have a deep love for all kinds of music; really, all genres as long as its good.

Tell us about the formation of 430 West Records and how Direct Beat fit into the label too.

430 West Records was born when were rented a studio on 430 West Eight Mile Road. Remember Eminem’s “8 Mile” movie? That was the street that separated Detroit from its suburbs. We had planned on renting the studio to start a label, but when we decided that we wanted to start one we adopted the address of the building for the label since we had already been answering the phones “430 West” anyway. Direct Beat was formed as another outlet for music from artists we really loved but didn’t think it either was the sound we wanted for 430 West or that we couldn’t release on it because of the crowded release schedule. And we didn’t want it to have any boundaries as far as what we wanted to release on it, that’s why it started on funky urban techno to acid to finally landing on electro.

You’ve recorded over the years also as Never On Sunday and Random Noise Generation. Were these aliases used for slightly different sounds?

Exactly! Different sounds, ideas, concepts and theories behind the music.

The artwork used on some of the 430 West releases as well as the names struck at deeper issues than just releasing dance music. Can you tell us about some of the ideas you’ve tried to convey through these methods?

The titles of tracks usually always hold a deeper meaning for us, but we’re not trying to convey any deeper issues to the listener, but just connecting our music with whatever idea captured us as we composed the track. For many of our releases the artwork was indeed the same, just connecting visuals to the root inspiration of the music. Many times our heritage, spiritual awareness, or general present mood finds its way into our productions, and the titles and artwork can become an extension of that.

“Blackwater” was a big hit for you guys. It seems that both you and Rolando were heading towards this sort of thing (him with “Knights of the Jaguar”) after you did the “Daystar Rising”/”Aztlan” release together. What was the feeling around this time and the sort of sound you were going for?

At that time we were going through a time where we were becoming a lot more in tune with the sound of Latin music. We were really getting into a very percussive-driven sound and really wanted to know if we could marry the Detroit techno sound deeper with the Latin vibe. Becoming friends with Ro introduced us deeper into a style that we liked, but soon we came to love it and really started to see a coalition of urban soul and Detroit techno.

You’ve recently started the MS10 label. What is the mission for this new label and does that mean 430 West Records is no longer a going concern?

We started the MS10 label for a place to experiment more. We’re still kicking 430 West strong, but felt 430 West has a particular sound that we’ve developed over the years and we didn’t want to disturb that flow
to experiment. And in the future, we might open that label up to developing new artists and releasing their material on it.

Technology-wise things have changed drastically since you first started producing. Is your studio very different these days? What aspects of digital vs analogue gear do you enjoy?

Music production is a constant evolution. In many aspects we still do things in the same way, just with better tools. We have been using computers for sequencing and mixing for quite a while, but still haven’t warmed up to the idea of using soft synths. There are some great computer-based synths out, but we still prefer the use of machines for composing. It’s not a digital vs. analogue thing, as we use a lot of digital synths (and drum machines too), just more of a creative thing. The process of getting something special sounding out a piece of gear is still one that we enjoy. Many times the limitation and unique characteristics of the equipment is a big part of the process. Different quirks in operating systems, note and voice limits, even dirty audio pots, have helped make some of our most memorable records. Just for example, the crunchy dirty tom sound on our track “Empower” comes from a dirty tuning pot on our Roland TR-909 drum machine. We left the machine on for days and barely touched it until we got everything ready to record (which was done straight to 2-track reel-to-reel tape). On another track, “Siege,” we used a Yamaha FB-01 synth module that was multi-timbral but had limited voices. The voice stealing actually was part of the melodic development. It’s hard to get this kind of spontaneity with computer synths. You can program them to do just about anything, but sometimes you want the machine to be the machine and be a part of creation.

Tell us about the Octave One live show.

Our live show is all hardware based, digital and analogue. Again, nothing against computers, but we like gear, plain and simple. We also don’t like the barrier that the computer screen puts between us and the audience. Our live show is about interaction and bringing our music alive (not just live) to those we are privileged to play for. When we decided to put together a live show, we tried to conceive something we would enjoy experiencing. One thing that is sometimes missing in many live electronic music shows is the connection with the “show” aspect of it. We allow ourselves to get lost in the music and strive for a synergy with the audience. Whether it be a small club or large festival, it’s very important for it to be a unique and intimate experience. Something we collectively share with everyone in attendance.

The Revisited Series will introduce you to younger audiences who perhaps hadn’t heard of you much before. Do you have further releases planned for this series?

The series is a milestone of sorts for us. We wanted to hook up with some of our friends and music producers we admired and ask them to choose a track from our catalog to remix to help us mark our 20+ years in electronic music. We got some really cool responses from some very special people, and the Revisited Series was born. To go along with the Sandwell District and Aril Brikha remixes, we’ll be continuing the series with remixes from Luke Slater, Cari Lekebusch, Ken Ishii, Alexander Kowalski, and Vince Watson. Later this year we will also be compiling all the mixes with previously released mixes by Los Hermanos, Alter Ego, and others for the Octave One respective album, Here, There, and Beyond.

Tell us about the mix you have done for us.

Since we are a live band, we’ve chosen a live set from one of our favorite cities to play, Dublin, Ireland. It was recorded late in 2010 at a cool little affair called The Underground. We play some classic, new released, and special unreleased tracks. It gets wild sometimes, but it’s live baby. This is not a DJ set. No MP3s, CDs, or even vinyl records were harmed during the making of this podcast. Synthesizers, drum machines, samplers, and effect units were used to bring this recording to life. You can even hear the crunchy toms of “Empower” on it! Hopefully you can get a bit of the feel of what the live show is like. We hope you enjoy it.

What can we expect from Octave One in the next year?

More touring including special shows with Ann Saunderson on vocals, a new album later in the year, and a few special collaborations are in the works. All-in-all, just enjoying ourselves playing music.

ad a pretty busy release schedule so far this year. Did you just have a hefty backlog of music, or did you make a conscious decision to step up your game?

Johannes Auvinen: A bit of both. I write musical sketches all the time. Those sketches eventually fall into groups that become albums. So, at any given moment I have an overview of what the next few records will be. Last year I decided to hurry things up and I am now aiming at producing two solid albums a year. Having more experience, and especially more experience working with limited resources, means I can work harder-faster-better-stronger.

You haven’t been terribly loyal to any one record label recently (even though your sleeve design has stayed for the most part pretty consistent). Is there a reason you’ve been releasing music through so many outlets? Might your label Global A make a comeback at some point?

By no master plan, I find myself at the moment enjoying another side of “the underground.” Not enjoying being part of a social scene, but rather enjoying being able to produce works through boutique labels run by individuals who have a vision and participate in the productions on a fundamental level. I find it great to work with these people on such focused terms. I hope in the future to work with even more boutique labels in different cities. I will continue only to release my own project through Global A on rare occasion.

Aside from your vocals, a heavy debt to acid has long characterized your sound. When did you first hear acid? And did hearing it make you want to produce?

Probably the first impressive acid tune for me was Planet Soul’s “Set You Free.” At some point I ended up with Phuture’s “Acid Tracks” which is, for me, still the most definitive and first acid track. Well, it stuck on me, and from there I dug into the history. Inspired, I saved up some cash for a 303, and started making jams. The release Acid Acid was essentially a thank you letter to acid music. I have continued always with some acid in my music because I feel fundamentally connected to the acid bass flow.

You don’t live there anymore, but Los Angeles, where you grew up, figures heavily into your lyrics. What does L.A. mean to you? Is Tin Man inseparable in your mind from that city?

Having been gone four years, L.A. seems a lifetime away. And, honestly said, I was happy to leave. I just could not find my life there. That said, of course I feel it is still a part of me. I am still all of Steinbeck’s and Carver’s and West’s and Fante’s worst characters, and I am still a space case with a dream hoping to make it big in Hollywood.

As dark and pessimistic as some of the music is, Tin Man has always felt like a very particular kind of pop music to me. Is Tin Man techno? Can techno make for great pop music?

Tin Man is techno imagining a world where techno is pop. I think the world of pop and techno are exclusive. Techno at its core is rooted in a dystopian vision of a broken society. I think from there it represents the disaster of the human endeavor thus far, and then imagines possible futures. Pop music normalizes. Its perfect crystalline structure seems to echo a world in motion and gently pushes you along your way, always whispering “continue…continue” softly in your ear. I think pop can, and will, quote techno, but for techno to be pop the whole society would have to be pretty disillusioned. I remember my Mom getting excited about the potential popularity of the Wasteland record as she thought it reflected perfectly the fallout of the financial crisis. It was not so popular.

Talk to me about Rashad Becker, the Duplates & Mastering cutting engineer and your longtime musical collaborator. How did you guys first start making music together, and are you continuing to work closely with him on your productions?

Rashad helped me record and mix Cool Wave and Wasteland. I will likely work with him again soon.

Your tracks for the Absurd’s Acid Test series, “Nonneo” and “Accumulated Acid,” feel like a real departure from your recent work. How did that material come together? And how did you hook up with Donato Dozzy for the “Nonneo” remix?

Absurd asked for some acid. I sent something like 15 tracks, but they were only keen on having “long melodic acid lines.” Eventually, I wrote the new pieces that are the record. I was happy with the result, as I feel it represents a stylistic contribution to the history of acid. I am now working on a whole album for Absurd with long melodic Tin Man acid lines. Yes, the acid is back. Absurd made the Donato connection. I loved his approach, and I contributed a remix to his upcoming Acid Test 12?.

Speaking of Donato Dozzy, that remix felt like such a brilliant meeting of the minds. Are there any other producers or artists you’re dying to work with?

Pan Sonic, Yasutaka Nakata, Aphex Twin, Benny Blanco/Dr. Luke, Brian-Michael Cox, Chilly Gonzales, Paddy McAloon, Christian Vogel, and Patrick Pulsinger.

Your new album, Perfume, is a veritable love letter to the piano, an instrument that I don’t believe has figured so prominently in your sound before. Did you set out to write a piano record, or was it just the right sound for these tracks?

Writing Perfume was a departure from my usual studio noodlings. Usually, I start with sound design, and this time I started working out all the songs at the piano. So I was sitting and really composing the harmonies, melodies, and structure in the way that you tend to do with a piano. Later I built all the synths around, but much of the piano stayed because it has that certain special charm.

Is Vienna still home base for you? How’s life there?

Yes, Vienna is home. I have to say it is pretty good here, there is plenty this compact and particular city offers. I have just finishing a record now called Vienna Blue. It’s a more classical and romantic record, for which I recorded a trio of violin, clarinet, and cello. There you can find some thoughts on the subject.

You’ll be in New York for the Unsound Festival in April. What do you have in the works as far as shows in the near future?

I do not tour around too much, but I will play a warehouse party with the Absurd crew in L.A. April 16th. And I will play in Vancouver April 22nd.

What’s in store for you as 2011 continues? Will the latter part of 2011 be as busy as the first?

It should remain busy with albums and remix work. The Vienna Blue album is next. Then comes the Absurd Acid album. I also have a collaboration project called Love & Affection, and we have a summer album seeking label. And there is more simmering on the back-burner. On the mix I gave are some sketches that showcase some of the moodier things in store.

Interview

There are spots around the world that are known for types of music. In America alone there is Detroit for techno, Chicago for house, New York for hip-hop, Seattle for grunge. Tell us about your musical upbringing.

Jon McMillion: Music has always been a part of my life. My father was a jazz guitarist who loved to play me tunes, show me guitar chords and talk to me about musicians he admired. My parents did a wonderful thing for me early on in my life and that was having me take piano lessons. I did that for many years and I’d like to think that it paid off. Later on I got a guitar and never looked back. I started experimenting with looping pedals and eight-track recorders. Many years later a good friend of mine gave me a sampler and a copy of Cakewalk. I was completely blown away with what I could do even in my limited knowledge of how those tools worked. I just knew that this was something I wanted to do.

What were the first inspirational electronic records you remember and how did they change your mind about what you wanted to do with music?

Hmm, that’s a good question. Looking back at when I really got started producing electronic music, it wasn’t dance music I was making. To keep things simple let’s just say I was producing IDM and ambient based music. So back then the records that inspired me and still do were on Rather Interesting, Mego, Chain Reaction, and Warp to name a few. Later on, when I started gravitating more towards dance productions, the type of records I found interesting and inspiring were records that at the time I thought pushed the envelope and challenged the idea of what could be done in a 4/4 context. For me the early Bruno Pronsato records were quite inspiring. There’s far too many artists to mention, but I really like records that keep you guessing.

You’re not the only producer out of Seattle with a band background. Bruno Pronsato as well was involved in bands. What sort of point of difference do you think this gives you when it comes to making electronic music?

I personally learned a lot from playing in bands and working with other musicians. For the kind of music I make now it definitely helped since I often use live instruments in a lot of my songs. But you have to keep in mind that playing in a band is a completely different experience than being an electronic music producer. All the decisions I make nowadays as a producer I make on my own. There are no band meetings to attend these days, or having to deal with competing ideas. I honestly don’t miss much of that. To me producing electronic music provides a lot of freedom and means to explore musical ideas. It’s hard to get in a band situation where complete control and a sense of personal freedom are in place. To me this is quite inviting and personally that’s what keeps me at it.

What instruments do you play and do you incorporate live instruments into your tracks?

I play piano, guitar, bass guitar and occasionally drums. I try to incorporate these instruments into songs as much as possible, but sometimes it’s just not appropriate or possible.

Do you consider your background as a software engineer as an advantage when it came to making music too?

Yes and no. Earlier on when I didn’t make 4/4 stuff I used tools like PD, C-Sound, and Super Collider, and my knowledge of programming definitely came in handy with those types of tools. Nowadays I’m not so much into programming sound. Instead I’m much more interested in the process of composition. Now I find myself being much more productive not having to rely on those types of tools as much as I did before.

What sort of studio set-up are you running?

Right now my studio is comprised of a Mac running Ableton & Logic, various plug-ins, some analog synths, guitars, and various pieces of outboard gear. I also keep a PC around with Sound Forge on it for more involved wave editing duties. Lately I’ve been using this new soft synth that a good friend of mine made called Aalto.

Your album is so rich with ideas, yet sounds very much like it is a studio album in a true musical sense, developed around a certain period of sessions. Can you run us through the background of the album and the recording process?

You’re right about the sessions. Most of the songs were made on a run from early 2009 to mid-2010. There really wasn’t a definitive process I used during the making of the album, and honestly it’s kind of hard to explain what I did during those sessions. One thing I really wanted to do was experiment and try out different techniques. On some of the songs I’d hit record, jam out for a while, come back and edit away. Often I’d lay down skeletons of how I wanted the song to go, and over time paint in the pieces, do more editing, do more jamming and let it sit for a few days, come back and add or subtract and move forward. I’ll say this, many of the songs were first sketched out in a few different coffee shops here in Seattle. I love sketching out ideas on my laptop outside of the studio. But overall the whole thing was a case of doing whatever it took to achieve the sound I was looking for.

There are so many tracks on the digital release, you could have stored them up for another album altogether. Did you consider shopping the other tracks around?

We knew there were going to be quite a few songs, and we wanted to put them all within the Jon McMillion LP package. So no, I didn’t consider shopping them around.

Can you tell us as bit about NuEarth Kitchen, the label you released your LP on?

Sure, NuEarth Kitchen is a new label out of Seattle my good friend Jeremy Grant put together and runs. The idea to start the label first came up in mid-2009 when Jeremy and I were listening to some tracks of mine in the studio, and we started thinking how cool it would be to have a label to put this stuff out on. That idea kept popping up over and over until finally Jeremy said, ‘It’s on, let’s do this.’ After a year of research and hard work it finally got it going.

There are an impressive array of people on remix duties for the album – in fact I know for one that’s how I came across your record in the first place. Did you hand pick the artists to remix your tracks?

Yes, the artists on the remix record are guys we really respect and admire. It was really cool how everybody came together on that project.

Do you play live? If so what sort of set-up do you operate from?

I do play out live. Right now my live PA set-up consist of Ableton Live, a Motu Ultralite, a Moog Moogerfooger ring mod, a Electro Harmonix Deluxe Memory Man, Novation Launchpad, and an Evolution X-Session.

Tell us about this mix you’ve done for us.

Sure, this is actually a live set. Its all brand new material I’ve been playing around with.

What can we expect from Jon McMillion over the next year?

Right now I’m working on a couple of remixes, and a new Wig Water Magic E.P. After that I’m going to do some more shows, take a breather, then start production on some new projects. Hopefully we’ll see a Wig Water Magic full length later on this year or in early 2012.

When did you start DJing? Who were your DJing role models at the time?

Spinoza: I started DJing when I was about 16-years-old. I somehow managed to convince the fine folks at Carnegie Mellon University’s radio station, WRCT, to give me a show when I was still in high school. I wasn’t really going to parties at the time, as rock and noise shows were more my thing, so I mostly understood the DJ as a radio personality. Ed Um Bucholtz and Eddie Houghton both had radio shows there at the time, and listening to them really opened my ears to the more creative side of DJing and the concept of layering multiple records to create something new. Eventually, Ed Um booked me to play at a few parties he was throwing around Pittsburgh, which were kind of arty raves, and I was hooked. I met Sheldon Drake at one of my first gigs in Pittsburgh, and he helped introduce me to the electronic music scene in New York when I moved here in 1996. DJ Olive and Raz Mesinai were some of the first people I met here, and I was deeply influenced by their music and the events that surrounded it. My first experience hearing proper techno on a big sound system was at these parties, where Khan, Dr Walker, and the crew surrounding Temple Records would regularly play what to this day is some of the best dance music I’ve ever heard.

Eric Cloutier: I first really started giving DJing a positive thought when I was about 15-years-old. I went to a couple raves and was totally captivated by the whole thing, so I was slyly buying records and practicing over at friends’ houses for a long time. I got a set of decks a few years later, and then really focused on it a lot while juggling school and work from then on. Being from Detroit, my role models are almost cliché – Richie Hawtin doing his “Decks, EFX & 909? shtick, Jeff Mills, Robert Hood, Daniel Bell, Claude Young, and the always impressive local, Derek Plaslaiko. I also had a lot of chances to spend time with one of the guys I’ve always looked up to, Christian Bloch, who blew me away every single time I saw him play, so I was pretty much surrounded by influence and motivation from the get-go.

What is your favorite time slot to play during an event?

Spinoza: I really don’t think there is a bad time slot at an event if you just make the best of it. Quite often, I find myself opening my own events out of respect to my guests, and I really enjoying playing my most experimental records at this time and slowly building things up and giving the headliner a nice starting point. I honestly think it is the hardest slot to play, and doing it properly is unfortunately becoming a lost artform. I also deeply enjoy playing an afterhours set, when the crowd is well settled in and having a great time and much more open to whatever I want to throw at them. And who doesn’t like to play at the peak of a party, when everyone is going apeshit?

Eric Cloutier: Heh… that’s a hard one to pick for me. I absolutely LOVE playing the early slot, because I’m a firm believer of warming up the room properly, and not overstepping boundaries when opening for a big name. But moreover I love that slot because I get to play a lot of things I never get to play otherwise, and it’s a chance for me to just thoroughly enjoy playing, even if it’s to an empty room. But, that being said, I also do love the later side of things. As you can probably tell by the influences I listed, I grew up on techno, and, though I hate to use the word, minimal techno. The real minimal techno — not this crap that’s out now. Getting the chance to bend a few minds at 128bpm is always a great time for me, mainly because I get to explore old music I haven’t heard in a while and relay it to people who probably have never heard it.

LWE’s questions for Spinoza

What inspired you to start the Bunker events? When did you throw your first Bunker event?

The very first edition of The Bunker was in January 2003. SubTonic was my regular hang out at the time. DJ Olive and Toshio Kajiwara did a Thursday night event there called Radical Anxiety Termination, and Timeblind and Mike Wolf did Polar Bear Club on Friday nights. I was the guest DJ at one of the final Polar Bear Clubs, and Timeblind told me PBC was ending but he wanted to continue doing Friday nights under a new name. The Bunker was an “ongoing night of musical exploration.” We did it primarily to create a space where we and our friends could hang out and play records. There was no admission fee at the door, and we were paid $100 flat, no matter how much the bar made. From what I can remember, we spent all of the money on cabs, fliers, and slices of pizza to soak up the alcohol at the end of the night.

Did you have any other events’ models in mind when starting the Bunker?

As mentioned above, it kind of grew out of the Polar Bear Club and Radical Anxiety Termination, both of which had very open and experimental music policies. I had been going out to electronic music events for seven years in New York at that point, and I guess all of those experiences really fed into it. I loved the idea of a weekly event with cool music that we could build a community around.

Do you have any job besides running Beyond Booking?

Beyond Booking actually takes up all of my time. It’s hard for me to imagine having another job and still doing everything Beyond-related up to my standards. It started as a hobby, but became very much full
time around five years ago.

Who all does Beyond Booking represent? What inspired you to start the booking agency?

At the moment, it’s primarily The Bunker residents (Derek Plaslaiko, Eric Cloutier, and myself). About a year ago, I really scaled back the number of artists I represent full time. At this point, I often help artists who come over from Europe to play The Bunker find other gigs in North America, and occasionally handle all the details for them. I did this for Donato Dozzy and Function in the past year.

What was your favorite Bunker so far and why?

We’ve had well over 300 editions of The Bunker. It’s really impossible for me to pick a favorite. At any given moment, I’m always most excited about the next one.

What are some of your goals for Beyond Booking/The Bunker in 2011?

My goal is always to continue to produce my events to the best of my ability. Every event is a learning process, and ideally, each event is better than the one that came before.

LWE’s questions for Eric Cloutier

How did you first get involved with The Bunker?

By being a pest! When I moved to NYC, I always would go to Bunker, and since I’ve historically been the early bird to parties because I love watching them evolve over the course of the night, I just eventually asked Bryan if he needed help setting up every week. Loading in the decks and sound system, setting up the booth, and general prep for the night. That eventually turned in to more and more chances to play, and that eventually led to me becoming a resident a few years ago.

I understand you’ve been working on music yourself. How’s that been going?

It’s… going. I definitely didn’t spend my time wisely years ago, unlike my peers who I grew up with in Detroit (Seth [Troxler], Shaun [Reeves], Ryan [Crosson], Lee [Curtiss], Matt [Dear], Ryan Elliot, et al.), so I’m way behind everyone and learning now what they’ve known for about a decade — so its been a bit of a struggle. I get frustrated because I have ideas in my head that aren’t coming out right away, but I’m working through that. I’ve gone from trying to be super flashy and creative to working on some simpler, more functional tracks, and its getting me more success in the studio. Theoretically I’ll have an EP out this year, and I’ll finally finish my remix of Chaton’s “+91 Ahead Sessions” that was due about two months ago. Sorry Chaton!

Who are some of your influences in production?

Daniel Bell will always been one of the biggest influences. It’s impossible for me not to mention him. Christian Bloch will always be up there, too. But outside of that… that’s one long list of names you’re asking me to rattle off. The short version? Donato Dozzy, Delta Funktionen, Claude Young, Jeff Mills, Mike Huckaby, Basic Channel… this list could go on forever.

What’s one record you own that could be pulled out during any DJing gig and always work?

I don’t want to drop a cliché here like “Deep Burnt” or “Groove La Chord,” so I’m going to go with “Changling” by Tan-Ru.

What was your favorite Bunker gig you’ve played and why?

Honestly, this one’s too hard to answer. Every Bunker is a total blast for me, regardless of when I play them or not, so I can’t even narrow that down in the slightest.

What are your goals for 2011?

Finish some damn productions, try and travel more overseas on gigs, potentially make something of this as a career and a real job, and explore some new sounds and take some interesting chances with my sets.

There’s not a lot of biography about you available online so far? What do you want to tell me about yourself?

Elgato: That’s a difficult question to answer! I’m not sure to be honest.

I read that you’ve been involved with the people behind Bruk for a while?

Yeah, although it’s actually a different group than the one who publish Bruk Magazine, ‘cos I’ve seen some confusion over that before. But yeah, we’re just a group of friends who started putting on parties in Bristol, irregular things across a few different venues for about four years. We did it for the longest at this spot Take 5 Cafe, which was basically just a little cafe that happened to have a tiny basement underneath it. Our mate had a soundsystem (out to Joe!) he used to do free parties with, so we would take that down and run it out of there, do two or three pound door fee, sometimes book a DJ and have a party, all of us playing on rotation. I felt we were able to do something a bit different in that place; I loved the parties we did there. We’ve also been doing a show on sub.fm for a while, four of us on rotation now. It’s a very loose affiliation of people, just me and my mates! A lot of my experiences of dance music have been with or from the people involved with Bruk. And all of them are heavy DJs, and we all bring quite different styles.

I also read that you’ve been gradually absorbed into a Hessle Audio universe?

Yeah, I’ve known Ben [UFO] and those guys for a while now. It’s a funny thing with the record coming out though, to read how these things are perceived from the outside. I see them just as individuals really, friends, but then obviously they also have the music thing going on.

So it wasn’t a case of I’ll go down to the gig, and bring a CD-R…

No no, I’d been good friends with Ben and the other guys for a while before I sent them anything I’d done. It wasn’t like, ‘I’ve done these tracks, and these ones are ready.’ At first I shared them unfinished, just as a friend asking for impressions and feedback on the production and that.

A lot of your sets seem to take in a lot of 90’s UK Garage. As a DJ, do you see yourself as primarily part of that heritage?

Heritage is an interesting word. I think there’s a lot more to heritage than just taking an aesthetic as an influence or playing records of a style. There’s no doubt that music has shaped the way that I feel music, make music, but I don’t know if I could consider myself as a part of that heritage.

Garage seems to be a major influence across a range of key producers in the contemporary London bass scene though. At the same time, I’m not aware of the same number of reissues of classic garage tunes, or DJs who play it on the broader club circuit.

I don’t know, I suppose it kind of depends what scene you’re plugged into. Plenty of DJs in London play garage, people like Oneman and Ben [UFO] have been doing it for a while. And then on the London pirates you hear it all the time, I don‘t think they ever really stopped. I suppose it’s maybe different to the European house and techno scene where you seem to have some big names going that way and putting loads of older house in their sets. But then I bet there are guys all over Europe who never stopped playing that stuff. The reissues thing is kind of interesting, I hadn’t thought of that before really.

I wondered if you’d tell me a bit more about the garage you love, whether there are any go-to producers you’ll always check or that kind of thing?

The thing about UK garage is that it was running — in some ways it’s still running — but what most people would call garage proper came from like ‘94 through 2003 or something. So there’s so much amazing music from that period, and so many styles. Tuff Jam were big for me, but there are too many UK 4×4 producers. To name just a few people like New Horizons, Underground Solution, James Lavonz, Anthill Mob and all the Confetti producers, RIP Productions, Jeremy Sylvester, Ramsey & Fen, their tunes still kill it, there‘s nothing that sounds like that stuff. Then all the 2-step stuff, again too many to mention but a lot of the obvious ones like Dem 2, Steve Gurley, Industry Standard, Groove Chronicles, DND, have all been big for me. There are too many to name though, and that’s not even really touching the grimey or darker stuff and what came after. One producer who always stands out in my mind — though not cos he’s necessarily my favorite, although he is one of them, but for how unique his style was — is Wookie. His sound was so different, and it feels fresh even now in a way that I’m not sure many others do.

And then recently the original garage vibes have started making a lot more sense to me, both the vocal disco stuff and the really early New Jersey vocal stuff, stuff like early Blaze and Movin and all of that. But I’ve loved the more tracky U.S. garage and house for a while. With this mix I kind of wanted to show love for some of that music, ‘cos it has done a lot for me.

Is there a particular feeling that helps you draw out a record that you’d play as a DJ?

I dunno really, I wouldn’t say one feeling or vibe, ‘cos as a DJ I tend to play quite differently depending on where I’m playing and what I’m feeling, and I‘ve got a lot of different styles of records. It’s something that having a tune out has put a point on, ‘cos all of a sudden I’m wondering whether I need to have a more consistent style as a DJ. But I think I’ll probably stick to just doing whatever seems right for the vibe.

In this mix, there’s quite a tight focus on old UK and U.S. house and garage, do you prefer a narrower range when you program your mixes?

Yeah, I tend to try to give my sets quite a strong vibe running through them. It’s not that I won’t play different styles next to one another but I strive for something that holds together quite tight in terms of the feeling. I think there’s still a lot that can be done within that, though, in terms of drawing in tracks from different times or places but which have that feeling in common. But this mix was slightly different, ‘cos in my mind it almost became kind of a celebration of this music rather than a showcase of the kind of thing I would necessarily do as a DJ in a club.

What does the immediate future hold for you as a DJ or as a producer?

Just making more tracks, seeing how they come out, hoping they’re good, and playing out as much as I can.

LWE’s 69th and last podcast of 2010 comes from Francisco Coelho of Porto, Portugal. As a former resident DJ of Industria, Bar 31, Bazaar and Pitch, as well as a current host of the Mathematica radio show, Coelho has been delighting the Portuguese dance scene for almost a decade. His mix sounds every part the work of veteran, drawing on an unexpected range of new and old tracks that kept us checking the tracklist with glee. But it was his kinetic mixing and expert pacing which had the judges dancing in our homes and offices. Fun, fresh and full of energy, this mix is perfect for whatever you’re celebrating at the end of 2010. Our hats are off to Mr Coelho and we urge you to catch him live if you have the opportunity.

Not unlike his home in Lebanon, the producer’s bespoke brand of techno brings together the influences of Western dance tracks, jazzy improvisation, traditional, audience-fed Arab music and the very atmosphere around him. This blend appears in his rich and unexpected tone choices, the sweeping rhythms echoing natural patterns, itchy percussion timbres and droning sonics that have appeared on M>O>S Recordings, Delsin, Styrax Leaves, and his own Morphine Records. Beaini also releases as R.aH and as part of the extemporaneous performers Upperground Orchestra. Focusing more on his music than its promotion, we were honored when he offered not only to answer our questions about his background and process, but also two exclusive podcasts to help draw the year to a close. The first is a mix recorded in Berlin that stitches together Beaini’s disparate tastes for synth-rock and reggae, outre techno and free jazz with his own work. The second is taken from a live set recorded at the Intergalactic FM Amsterdam Dance Event, an intimate and compelling look at how Morphosis navigates his own unique soundscapes.

http://www.littlewhiteearbuds.com/tracks/2010/LWEPodcast68MorphosisBerlin.mp3

http://www.littlewhiteearbuds.com/tracks/2010/LWEPodcast68MorphosisBerlin.mp3

http://www.littlewhiteearbuds.com/tracks/2010/LWEPodcast68MorphosisAmsterdam.mp3

http://www.littlewhiteearbuds.com/tracks/2010/LWEPodcast68MorphosisAmsterdam.mp3

Interview

The two mixes you’ve provided represent two very different perspectives of your musical influences. Can you give us an insight into the ideas/processes behind each mix?

Rabih Beaini: I always have difficulties recording podcasts at home, people normally expect a proper promotional mix to show how you play in clubs and what is your professional level. But I never feel comfortable unless I have fun and experience new combinations, and that was the case of the first mix recorded in Berlin at the Restoration HQ, during my final transition from Italy to Lebanon. It has no logical process; I knew some things would stick together, and I didn’t try anything first or edit anything afterwords. I loved the idea of mashing up house and techno with new wave, Afro or reggae songs. And in my own way, it worked. Some combinations are not perfect, but I love the overall flow. This mix reflects not only my musical taste or selection but also the improvisational progression. And that’s what links it with the second podcast, recorded live at the Intergalactic FM special during the Amsterdam Dance Event in Amsterdam. It reveals some of the aspects of my performing side: it’s totally improvised and played live with the Poly800, the TR-808, the echo pedal and some records.

I’ve noticed you have a diverse taste in music from Sun Ra to Newworldaquarium to African rhythms. What influence does this have on your production?

It is the main frame. I have no direct influence, I have a global understanding I’ve built during the years and this shapes my overall production side. I make my productions the same way I did this podcast or any other mix, DJ set or live set. I don’t have a clear idea, it’s all in my hands and the feelings. It’s in the instruments and records I have with me, and I know I’m there to take the best out of them using my technical knowledge, my musical knowledge and my instincts at the same time.

What was it like growing up in Lebanon, in particular the culture/sounds and feelings you were exposed too? Did you grow up in a musical family/culture? What influenced you to make records?

I always thought my childhood had no determining musical influence on me. Of course I was wrong. Even though my parents had no records or musical collection, I had this local and traditional musical entourage that fed me up, heavily, but I only realized it lately. At the time I was digging deeper into ”Western” music, mainly the first house and hip-hop tracks to be transmitted on radios, and I thought this was the only thing I wanted to follow. Much of the local and traditional music I didn’t dig at the time is now extremely priceless. The Lebanese and Arabic musical scene was divided in three categories: the traditional music, popular and mostly improvised, the ”pop” scene from the 70’s and 80’s, and the classical, high-level productions from Lebanon (Rahbani brothers) and Egypt (Um Kolthum, Abdel Halim and many others). All that was added to the electronica scene, even though I had access to a very small part of it at the time. There is actually one composer who was and still is a key feature in my musical influences, Ziad Rahbani. He is the son of Fairuz and Aasi Rahbani, he created a special genre in Arabic music that melted down those three aspects together with soul and jazz, using drum computers in Arabic compositions in a very raw and synthetic way, a real genius.

Your productions constantly amaze people with their diverse sounds and rich layers of percussion and rhythm. Is there a particular format you go through in producing tracks or is it just “go with the flow” and see what happens?

I love traditional and popular live shows from all around the globe, and the thing I love most is the interaction between rhythms sections which is fed by the crowd’s interaction, so everything turns into a whole unified and raving thing that grows continuously. It’s not only a “go with the flow” thing, it has a human instinct aspect that is mixed with years of experience and technical knowledge that brings those musicians to speak with the others without even saying a word. This thing is rooted in my production and performance aspects, it gives me also the wider view of what a crowd wants in that specific moment or from that specific production. No matter if you make a live performance of traditional Sufi or African music, it’s the magic you bring at the moment.

One particular sound that seems to resonate through your productions is jazz. Would you agree that it influences your tracks?

Jazz is the contemporary carrier of musical history. It is made of everything that vibed and will vibe in the days to come. It’s the child of tradition and education; if you look carefully you will find the popular and primitive heritage melt with the most sophisticated composition techniques across all jazz categories, and that’s what makes of it a unique genre and the richest influence. And it raves like hell when it comes to raving.

For me Morphine Records is one of the most intriguing and constantly changing labels. Do you ask producers like Jamal Moss and Anthony “Shake” Shakir to provide tracks or do encourage unknown producers to send you tracks? For example, Madteo is a producer who was unknown to me until his release on Morphine and he’s subsequently released some truly amazing music.

Basically I deal with the releases on Morphine from a personal view — generally I put out my own music but in the other cases, it’s something that goes beyond my own works. I always accept demos, I listen to all of them, more carefully to the ones that are more related to the label concept. But most of times I can’t release them for many reasons, also because the label has a very low economical profile. The case of Madteo was definitely a fresh vision of music for me and it deserved special attention — he has a intimate approach to music and I love it. Of course it’s not something a label can easily deal with, but I see things not in a sales perspective, but with a quality view. Jamal has a unique way of making music, and the tracks I’ve put out on doser008 were maybe the most particular ones, at least at the time. They were already released on a CDR but I was convinced some of them deserved a proper vinyl release. I truly consider him as one of the visionaries of our time. As for Shake, it was meant to be a kind of a dedication work for one of the most influential producers of the techno scene. It started out with some emails and then he agreed to put out some new tracks he did after many years of silence. It was a special release for me and I think also for him. I’m really glad we made this.

You seem to have built up a strong relationship with the Dutch contingent Delsin, how did the arrangement come around?

Aroy Dee started the connection when he asked me to join the M>O>S label and kindly waited a long time to get a release from me. I normally have lots of difficulties to provide music for other labels, mainly because I’m involved with many other things apart of music production. So now after two singles, the album was imminent and the M>O>S/Delsin crew is working really hard to get it released.

The upcoming album will be released on Delsin under the Morphosis moniker. Did your process change at all while you made the album or did you follow all the same process you usually undertake in production of individual tracks? What can we expect from the album?

It was made in a few days during a recording session in Eupen, Belgium. I brought some of my gear with me and the Meakusma guys provided the recording studio, for my own studio was out of order. The album takes a proper ”live” approach and is pretty much musical in my own way of musicality. I’ve chosen to play all instruments by myself, only some vocals have been added on two songs by KAE, an amazing vocalist who lives in Treviso close to Venice. I gave the album total freedom that unified a bit of all my production processes used in my previous works, and the title What Have We Learned is the driving concept. It’s a container of my musical baggage and knowledge, and that is also the meaning of Morphosis, a Greek word that means “the overall knowledge and learning.”

What separates a Morphosis track from a Ra.H production? Are you expressing different styles components/influences ideas in each entity?

Originally it was meant to be separate: Morphosis was the moniker I wanted to use for more obscure and dance floor oriented works, Ra.H for the more musical and conceptual things. But the further I go, the closer these two identities have come and I think today they are really close. Maybe they were never that far the one from the other?

Tell us a little bit how Upperground Orchestra came into being? Who is involved and how do you come to compiling tracks?

Upperground Orchestra was born as a platform for musicians to play live on a ”open stage” concept. A basis of three elements drive a full jam session with a free structure and musicians come on and off of the stage. We used this in the production work as well. One of the main elements has changed, instead of the Max Bustreo on keys (who still collaborates with us from time to time) we have Tommaso Cappellato on drums together with me on electronics and Alvise Seggi on bass. Many other musicians join us on stage and in studio, we mostly try to experiment around jazz and we get many influences also from electronica.

You have championed the sound of Roland drum machines in your live performances. What is it about analog that entices you to use the equipment?

It’s not only about sticking on using analog instruments, it’s about the musical and sound approach. The TR-808 gives me exactly what I’m looking for in terms of manual functionality and sound. I’m not against new devices and instruments, but I haven’t found anything better than what I already have. That will not alter my sound and concept, so I think for now I will continue getting the most I can from what I have.

One thing that really clicks with me is your use of percussion and natural elements; thunderstorms, rim shots and modulated synths all combine. How do you accommodate such an array of sounds?

It’s a natural approach to music. Nature is the primary element that provides us what we use in communicating. Our main aim is to communicate with our peers, and we succeed most if our communication is not disturbed and confused. The simpler the methods we use to say things the better message we bring. And I believe in music as the most efficient and complete communication system. Synthesizers were made to emulate a natural sound that originally existed in a musical instrument or in a human voice. But the technical failings in the origin of this emulation made of it a very special element itself, and what I love most is a balanced combination between this “un-natural” element, and the primitive and natural sound generators. It brings a little thrill in this magical world we have inherited.

Few masters of dance music operate at the same high level as in their initial heyday, yet Gert-Jan Bijl is still at the top of his game 22 years in. One could attribute the Dutch producer’s consistency to his relentless pursuit of new sounds and set-ups spread out over more than a dozen monikers and even more collaborative projects. By pushing himself beyond the American influenced aesthetics he started in, Bijl kept his productions fresh for himself and his audiences. So whether you know his funky disco tunes as Amplified Orchestra, his tougher techno slabs as Literon, the broken beat work with Paulo Delgado as Delgui, or his unique deep-house slates as Gerd (to leave out quite a few — even Discogs hasn’t captured his full back catalog), your ears have been well taken care of for more than two decades. The Rotterdam-based artist is also the proprietor behind 4 Lux, Amplified, Fortek, Lifeworld, and Rize Radical imprints, providing a home for dozens of artists including Alex Agore, Kez YM, Swell Session and his own various projects. Despite his long career there’s little info available about Bijl on the web so LWE had to grab him for an interview and our 67th exclusive podcast: a toasty 71 minutes of lush house music fitting of an artist with his reputation for excellence.

Tell me a little bit about how/when the mix was made and its theme if any.

Gerd: Well, I didn’t have any theme in mind. I just went in my studio and dropped some records. The mix was made pretty spontaneously. The only thing I had in mind was that I wanted to play some house records I enjoy. The mix was made with two turntables, two CDJ-players and a mixer in November 2010.

What was your involvement with music as a child? How did you first hear dance music and what drew you to it?

I was drawn to music at an early age. I was always playing and listening to my mothers’ records. She had a lot of (popular) film scores (think: Morricone, Jack Parnell, etc.). I loved to look at the artwork and I loved the smell of the vinyl, of the paper. My older nephew had a pirate radio station which I joined at the age of nine. I think it’s around that age that I started to buy my own 7-inch singles and, later on, twelves. My music collecting started out with popular dance but when I grew older I discovered the import shops here in Rotterdam city. It’s through mix tapes I discovered early house. When I first heard “House Nation,” “Jack Your Body,” “Love Can’t Turn Around,” Marshall Jefferson’s “House Music Anthem,” etc. my heart was sold to HOUSE. Especially the, at that time, obscure acid music from the likes of Mr. Fingers, Armando, Hot Hands Hula, Phuture, et al. made me wanna make music myself. At that time in Europe it was hardly known how this kind of house was made. A long investigation and search resulted in buying my first drum computers and a TR303 bass line!

I’ve read about your explicit preference for hardware rather than computers. How much were new sounds and musical directions the result of purchasing new hardware/equipment?

Musical directions were never the basis for me to buy new equipment really. It’s the hunger to new sounds and especially the hunger to just be able to touch and feel a new piece of hardware. It’s like an addiction. Just like with vinyl records, this is about collecting too. For me it was a journey. At first when I didn’t make any money with music I had several jobs and worked my ass off to save some money. I had a long list of hardware I wanted to own. I did my utmost to get all pieces on that list one by one which resulted in buying more and more synths, samplers, effects, compressors etc. Later on when I made money with music it went a bit quicker of course. I just got to work with every new piece I obtained and if I didn’t feel it (the way it operated, the way it sounded) then I sold it again. The ones that got me hooked are still in my studio today. By the way: with plug-ins getting better and better I also do a lot of work with computers nowadays. VST-plug-ins give me, besides the hardware, another color on my palette.

Over the years you’ve collected innumerable production aliases, both solo and in collaboration with Dirk-Jan Hanegraaff. Why operate under so many different names? Do you have any favorites?

It’s hard for me to stick to one style. That’s one of my strengths but also one of my weaknesses. I get bored very quickly. I need to be challenged, that’s why I try to explore as many styles as possible as long as those styles intrigue and inspire me. Discogs is NOT complete when it comes to my work and aliases. I have done house, techno, soul, jazz, hip hop, lounge, ambient, dub, disco, broken, etc. These are all styles that tickle my fantasy and ask different sides/talents from me, as a producer, to create. I thought they all needed a different project name. I am very proud of the work I do/did under my own Gerd and Literon aliases as well as the Delgui project I did with Paulo Delgado and the P-funk inspired Milez Benjiman project that I recorded for Tru Thoughts. And I just love the Amplified Orchestra stuff, too.

Tell me about how you ended up working with Dirk-Jan Hanegraaff across so many projects.

It’s a thing that just happened. I mean, back in the days it was a common thing to just sign for a label for several singles or for a longer period of time so, once a project was signed to a certain label we couldn’t use the same name when we were asked to record for another label. Besides that, we felt that we covered many different styles/sides of the dance spectrum and thought it would be cool to just invent different projects for every (sub) style we explored.

In your nearly two decades spent making dance music, what’s changed in how you write or execute your tunes?

The answer is simple: In the past I just started with a drum pattern and from there I went on building with sounds. Nowadays it is the other way ’round: I start playing a bass line or a melody or fool around with some samples and then the rest follows. I also have clearer ideas of the tune I am about to start working on. I, more or less, know what I am going to create whereas in the past it was more of surprise to me and went along with the flow I was in. Sometimes I miss that way of working. Then I just go into the studio and have a cool unprepared ride like I am back in 1990.

With such a large back catalog, I wonder how you’ve stayed prolific for so long. What keeps you feeling creative?

It is difficult to be creative at some points, let alone staying creative for a longer period of time. I have a love-hate relationship with making music. It might sound strange but I know a lot of fellow producers have the same sort of battle. I guess that comes with a creative mind. It is hard to decide when your song is actually finished. I mean, you always hear things that can be improved but, for various reasons, it’s not always simple how to achieve such improvement. I sometimes suffer to bring beautiful music. What I have learned throughout the 22 years of creating music, though, is to just keep on trying and keep on searching for ways to start, perfect and/or finish songs. I learned to literally force myself to be creative and when I really focus I can always call for my creativeness.

Besides that, as said before, I am bored quickly. So when I am bored producing a particular style I just go and create something in another style of music. That, to me, is also a very good and natural way to keep the creative flow going. At the end of 1999 I was bored with the breakbeats, techno and house stuff that I did. I started to create music for commercials, movies, theatre plays and TV shows and I do lots of other things besides the dance industry. Change is a good way to stay creative.

Do you ever go back and listen to your older work? Is it difficult not to repeat yourself?

I don’t listen to my older work a lot. Sometimes I do so when other people come and visit me and ask me to play something I did in the past. But when I am alone I prefer to play other people’s music. I do enjoy it when I hear my music being played in a club or when I am relaxing in a swimming pool on a holiday or when I am visiting a clothing store shopping for new jeans or watching a documentary or TV show on television with my music used as underscore, etc. I mean, at those occasions I am proud to experience other people enjoying themselves to something I created. Within every style it is difficult not to repeat yourself indeed. It is a question that kept me busy for a long time. Nowadays I don’t care really. I mean accents may change as well as techniques and sounds may evolve but in the end good house is good house, good soul music is good soul music, etc.

Most producers tend to focus on a few specific sounds or genres while your sounds are all over. Do you admire most types of dance music? Are there other styles you’re still interested in attempting?

Yes, I admire all types of dance music. I can hear something beautiful in most styles. Marketing wise it is clever to focus on just one or two types of music. You’ll get more recognition and quicker too. I never thought like that and I was only interested in the creative processes of music making. Strategically (read: from a commercial point of view), it would be better for me to just focus on one or two projects but I care too much about the art too so don’t be surprised if I take on other styles like blues and rock in the future. But seriously: at this point there is no style I would like to explore. I re-found my love for (early) house music and techno, so that will be the stuff I’ll focus on in the future. Besides that I still do music for commercials, movies and television. I love to create music within a creative team of people, so I will keep on doing that as long as possible too.

Recently your “For 12 Minutes She Danced With An Alien” single was sort of reissued by Joris Voorn’s Green label. Why did you opt to use a new remix instead of the original? Do you have much interest in reissuing any of your other work, and if so, what specifically?

Back in the day, “For 12 Minutes” was a record that went cross-over. I mean, techno DJs played it (besides the A side, “Arkest’s Blaze,” of course) but also UK and U.S. garage DJs played it. I thought the original was a bit too fast for current house music. House music now is slower paced (thus more sexy in the end) hence my choice to do a slower version.

Indeed, I get a lot of requests from labels to re-issue some of my older work. But I won’t choose to do so as long as I am not feeling the track in question. Right now I am thinking about a request to re-issue an old Literon track called “Machines.” There are also plans to re-issue an old Gerd track called “Vorpal Blade.” I still love those two songs, so I might go ahead with those.

More recently 4 Lux and Amplified seem to have embraced some digital only releases, which have been popular with some labels but avoided by others. It even appears your latest album as Amplified Orchestra was only released digitally. What importance do digital releases have for you? What does your choice of format say about your feelings on the release?

I was advised by a good friend (and label manager at my digital distributor) not to miss the boat when it comes to releasing music digitally. I started releasing music this way back in 2004 or 2005. At first I really had to get used to the digital format. I mean, I am an old fashioned guy who grew up with wax and I just love vinyl too much. However slowly but steadily I started to enjoy releasing digitally as well. Simply because of the fact that I learned that there are actually a lot of people enjoying buying digital downloads. I get a lot of response from people buying mp3’s and WAV files. Besides that, I learned the importance of digital releases is one that cannot be ignored if you want to be a label releasing music in the long run. Everything is (going to be) digitized in this digital age, whether you like it or not.

The choice of format does not say anything about my feelings on the release. In fact my latest Amplified Orchestra called “Doctor Ohio” is my best AO so far. I choose not to release it on wax simply because of the difficult situation on the vinyl market. It is hard to break even on vinyl sales nowadays. Besides that I also think the opinion of our physical distributor is of importance. Again, I would have loved to release “Doctor Ohio” on wax but my distributor didn’t feel it as much as I did. I think there’s no use releasing vinyl if the people who need to work with it don’t like it as much as I do.

What’s coming up from you and your labels in 2011?

I am working on new Gerd material for my own 4lux label as well as for Clone. Maybe a new release on Philpot will follow too. In fact I am thinking of doing a full album as Gerd. The same goes for my Literon moniker: a few releases in the pipeline and a full album. My new Amplified Orchestra album is almost ready. This album will actually get a double vinyl release. So all you vinyl hunters be on the lookout for that one. Last but not least we have a lot of releases coming up on 4lux and Amplified by producers such as Erdbeerschnitzel, Alex Agore, Lump, Solab, Ka§par, James Johnston, FantastikClick & Sport G., and Native Rush. A great jazz album by Orakel (featuring collaborations with Dwight Trible and Dorian Concept) will get a vinyl release on our downtempo offshoot called 4lux White in March. So a lot of things happening in 2011!

I understand you come from a jazz background. Could you tell us a bit about that?

Scott Grooves: Yeah. Jazz, rhythm and blues…. My father was a rhythm and blues and jazz guitarist. He had a band and also played with some Motown artists. My mother’s side of the family was more rhythm and blues, Motown. My uncle was an organist. My auntie sang. My mother was a singer. Music was definitely around me.

So then were your first musical activities more oriented toward jazz and soul and that sort of thing?

Oh yeah. We always get asked like, ‘Did you listen to Jeff Mills? Did you listen to Electrifying Mojo?’ Most people think a lot of us picked up with that. Sure, I listened to Mojo, I listened to Jeff Mills, I worked at a record shop. I did what a lot of people did in Detroit. But well before that, the beginning point for me was growing up at home. It was like the family business, so to speak. If your uncles and aunties are in the circus, what do you think you’re going to do when you get older?

So you were a young guy, with all this music around you. What was your plan back then?

Well, I knew early on that I really didn’t relish the idea of working at the factory and building a car. I guess my plan for music was, uh… just to be somehow involved in music. At first it was a pastime, like my recreation. Other kids were outside riding their bikes; I was in the house learning how to play different instruments and listening to music. So it was like a hobby. When I was really young, I hadn’t had it in my mind to make it… a career. But I did have aspirations to learn to play different instruments. That took up my early years, just learning to play the instruments that were in the house. My life was really simple back then: go to school, come home, TV, music.

And how did that lead you to KMS, Inner City, and a place in the burgeoning dance music scene?

DJing, that was the gateway. I started DJing, and it seemed like it was just a natural migration, having a musician background. It was only natural that I try to make some of the records I was playing, that I was fond of. Like another note on the musical scale, it was an obvious note to hit. So that’s how I got into production, and it was fun because I reconnected with what I initially liked doing — playing instruments. I got away from playing instruments once I started DJing, because a lot of my time was spent buying records, looking for records, working at a record shop. DJing overshadowed, at that point, making music. But it was related, because then I started to want to make music. I would buy a twelve-inch and I would listen to it, and try to learn how to play what I heard. Eventually I made a little demo cassette, and went down to the offices of KMS, which was only like five minutes from my house. Kevin Saunderson just happened to be coming out of the building, and I gave him the cassette. The next thing you know, I was in a studio, playing keyboards.

Working at the record shop, I would talk to other people who aspired to be producers, or were already producers. Mark Kinchen also worked there — MK. I met the guys at 430 West when they first started, and I aspired to do some stuff with them. At this point, I just wanted to make a record. I just wanted to make a twelve-inch, Chris. That’s all I wanted to do, see my name on a record.

Since you’d already had a lot of experience with a range of instruments, did you feel pretty confident that you could make that record?

Yeah, I did. And DJing helped too, because when you’re a DJ, you learn about presentation in dance music. If I wasn’t a DJ, I’d never even have considered things like putting a break in the record, or an appropriate introduction. And then working at a record shop helped me understand the commercial side of things. I felt I had the great trinity of experience at that point: I knew how to play a few instruments, I worked at a record shop, and I was a DJ. So I felt pretty confident at that point. I met Derrick Thompson through a friend. He’d just started Soiree Records, and he was like, ‘Man, let’s do it!’ I told him I wanted to make a vocal tune. I had the song already in my head — the lyrics and everything. And that was my first twelve-inch, on Soiree Records, a vocal tune called “Over You.” This was like, 1992. Around this time, all of us were trying to put out our first releases — Mike Huckaby, Moodymann, Rick Wade, a lot of people.

Of course there were others who were already established. Like I remember vividly, man, we were selling a lot of Terrence Parker records. Kevin Saunderson had three or four labels under the KMS tree. Carl Craig was making good stuff on Transmat. And I’d see all these people coming at the record shops.

What were some of the records that really stick out in your mind from that period?

I was into a lot of different stuff. As a DJ, whatever kind of party I was DJing, whether it was a wedding reception or whatever, you had to play a little bit of everything. It wasn’t that segregated like it is now. You had to play R&B, some dance music, some funk, whatever. So I was into a lot of different stuff. But I remember hearing Adonis for the first time, and I was like, ‘Man, what was that?’ That was a big tune in Detroit. Larry Heard’s “Can You Feel It,” “House Nation…” I remember the first time I heard the word “import” was “Pacific 808 State.”

But of course I was into music as long as I can remember, so I transposed it all in my head. Call it dance music, call it house… to me, a groove is a groove. The grooves I was very familiar with, the bass lines I was very familiar with. What made it different from what I was doing as a kid was the drum tracks. Going from playing live drums to learning to program drums. That was the biggest thing for me. Coming from a background as a drummer, I saw it was not so much about rhythm, but programming techniques. I found that intriguing. And it definitely imposed a learning curve. Programming and playing are two different things. I naturally knew how to play. I didn’t naturally know how to program. That did not come naturally. I take my hat off to those guys back in the day who were really good programmers. They wasn’t necessarily good players. But as I got into electronic music, I saw that you could make a hit record and not actually play one note. Learning programming techniques and secrets, that took…. I mean, the first time I seen a 909, I couldn’t believe it was a drum machine. It looked like a data processor! I was like, ‘This is an instrument?’

Did you ever wish back then that you could just play that drum track instead of programming it?

Of course, of course. But I learned over the years how to combine forces, to bring the two together. And also the technology started to catch up, to make it a little bit more intuitive. With the MPC, they had the pads on it and…

You almost could play that.

Yeah, I could play that, I could hit it. And the swing…. It could capture what I was doing live, on the fly. But when I first started, I was trying to understand how to take this rhythm and funk out of my head, use this machine as a relay, and have it sound the way it sounded in my head. You know, if I pick up a pair of drumsticks, I can do that instantly. But with a drum machine, it wasn’t instantaneous. It was something I had to learn how to do. And that may not necessarily come from reading that big old, 300-page manual that comes with it. Sometimes it just came from using it. Trial and error.

So I started to listen to different records, and listened to how people programmed their drums. Being a drummer, if it feels real to me, that means it hit the bull’s eye. And some records started to really feel like that, have that good feeling. And that let me know that what I wanted to do was attainable, it was possible. I just had to work at it.

You seem to be someone who likes to impose challenges on yourself.

You gotta stay busy, I think. This is just something you can’t master. There’s always something to learn, and ultimately that should keep you humble. You can never know enough. You can master the business side of the music business, but you can never master the music side. It’s infinite. Just think about it: all the music you’ve ever heard came from a twelve-note scale. Everything we’ve ever heard came from twelve notes. That’s mind-boggling. So I try to stay busy with the music side of things.

In 2009, for example, I realized it had been twenty years since the inception of the 808 and 909. So I began to peek my head into the door of the Roland and kinda highlight it. When I first started out, the drum machine was not my ally. I looked at it as something that put drummers out of business. So at first, I wasn’t in love with it. I didn’t even own one. But, like I say, now I have a real respect for people who mastered it. To me, that’s just as delightful as somebody playing guitar or drums. And a lot of people in the jazz world kinda snub that. They can ostracize you when you don’t play. Myself, I learned to have respect for what somebody else does differently. And when it’s all over, can you lock me in a room with anything, and I find the rhythm in it? I don’t want to be limited. I don’t want a home field advantage. I want to be able to play well with anything that’s put in my hands.

So was that the goal with the 808 and 909 records? To master those machines?

I don’t know if I set out to master them. See, I used those sounds early, but I didn’t really analyze the drum machine at the time. I was going at a real fast pace early in my career, because I just wanted to make a record. But as I got older, I had time to zero in on more minute points. You know,turn the keyboard off, and just check out the drum machine.

These days, the 808 and 909 are iconic, but mostly for for their bank of sounds. It seems like you’ve also really focused on their compositional possibilities.

I appreciate that question, because I did want to keep it compositional. I wanted…. Like when you listen to a lot of the early R&B records in the 80’s and 90’s, they were using the 808 and 909 just as much as electronic music. But they covered it up well with the composition of the whole record. They didn’t just make an 808 track. But what I did, I concentrated on the drum track with just that drum machine. No other sounds. I just made an 808 track, or a 909 track, and let that lead me to some good music. For the first time, I didn’t incorporate it with any other sounds.

I loved that. I loved the way the tracks worked within those parameters. And there was a real purity of sound as a result, I think, too.

Those sounds are truly classic. They have great fidelity. And even though, back then, against all the organic sounds they sounded like machines, now they sound organic in comparison to the all the synthetic sounds that are available. I mean, who would’ve thought back then that the 808 or the 909 would sound organic?

And that we would celebrate them for their warmth!

Exactly! I wasn’t drawn to them in the beginning, because I was still clouded by the real sounds that were still popular in music — real drummers playing on real music instruments. I was very much coming from a ‘live’ element. See but now, with so many synthetic sounds out there, just seeing an 808 or a 909, it looks organic. It looks like an instrument. It didn’t look like an instrument when I looked at it years ago. It looked like a machine. Now, when a guy tells you he can make a record from his iPhone, the 909 looks like an instrument.

Let’s talk about your Modified Suede label, which is something different. It’s closer to the pre-electronic drum sounds you just mentioned, a bit more like acoustic drumming. What prompted you to start this line?

Just to contrast myself. If I do something on Natural Midi, I like to contrast that, and try to come out of the studio with something for Modified Suede. And if a person goes to the record shop and buys a Natural Midi record and says, ‘I like that. I don’t like that Modified Suede release,’ then I think I’ve done my job. Not that he thinks it’s bad — just not what he’s looking for. It’s the other guy who says, ‘I like that Modified Suede record.’ That’s kinda what I wanted. Music is varied, wide open. There’s just so many different possibilities, so many things you can do. I like to do like the Boy Scouts. I like to earn different badges.

And now you’re working on the Panther badge. That’s a completely different platform for your music.

Yeah, the Panther thing is cool because it gets back to what I was doing before I started recording — performing. The performance aspect was first for me — playing in front of an audience. And I capture a little bit of that with the Panther productions. We take a record I like and set up different effects and percussion elements. And then I play along with the record, and superimpose things. You know, just pressing “record” and seeing what happens. It’s a lot of live improvisation. Not so much recording where you’re sequencing and all that, just performing. I did the “Beau Mot Plage” mix like that. I did a Panther mix of Floating Points’ “Truly” that I’ve been playing out, and a lot of people asked me for a copy, but I can’t give that out. But I did a nice Panther version of that where I just overdub, with lots of echo and reverb.

Is working with these effects new to you, or do you have some background in that too?

Not a lot. The guy I work with in Panther — his name is Kataconda — that was his forte. He’d always be showing me cool, different effects in the studio, and so one day I just gave him a Norm Talley record I had been playing, called “The Journey.” And I was like, ‘Tweak this!’ You know, ‘Take some of that stuff you’re always fiddling around with, put it in that pot, and cook it.’ He did, and it was really cool. So we edited it and did some other things. And I got a good response when I started playing it. I just thought of it as something to have for me to play when I DJ, but then the guy who owns the label Third Ear heard it, and he wanted to put it out. So it’s an opportunity for people to learn a new side of me, and also learn about Kataconda who’s very talented. And I’m working right now on a Panther mix of a tune that’s out right now on the label Curle out of Belgium. It’s a hot tune they got, and I’m working on that at the moment. And I’ll be definitely doing more in the future.

It seems like it’s a very different outlet for you, musically.

I like to think that everything is interdependent. Whether you’re turning knobs or strumming a guitar, it all can play into the world of Scott Grooves. I can take it all in. Some days, I’ll go downtown and peek my nose into a jazz club, listen to a trio, and take that inspiration home with me, and approach the next record with a jazz approach. I’m always flexible with my approach. That’s kind of my motto. Approach the music from a different angle.

Like, before you called I was listening to some old, like, Close Encounters of the Third Kind type of sounds. I was very much into Steve Miller and the Steve Miller Band, and he used a lot of those sounds too. The ARP, the Odyssey, the Prophet. I’ve been gravitating toward those sounds of late. And not just sounds, but how those guys approached the records. A lot of times I’ll do research in how different artists made their records, because sometimes I’ll bump into somebody who was a writer or a session musician from Motown, and they can relate a story to me about how James Jamerson would lay a bass line down, or how Marvin Gaye would do the drums. And then I’ll go home and try to approach a record the same type of way, with the same sounds, and see what I come out with. And lately I’ve been doing that with more of, like, that Euro, Georgia Moroder-ish sound with the pulsating bass and all that.

Really? So is this Scott Grooves’ next badge?

Maybe. I’ve been listening to a lot of the old drum tracks they used, with the LinnDrum, the Oberheim, the Roland 727. And I’ve been playing around with those sounds the past month or so. There’s a music shop here in Detroit and all they sell is old equipment. So I’ll go in there, and I don’t know if this guy’s caught on to me yet, but I’ll have him turn equipment on and let me hear it, just to try to breath it in and get the feel, to use it as inspiration.

Well, here’s to keeping busy!

Well you know, this music, it’s definitely not a sprint. Being in it as long as I have been, that’s what I’d tell anybody that’s getting into this, that you have to know going in that it’s a marathon. And that helps you. The race is not given to the swift, it’s given to the person that’s conditioned for change. And that’s what I’ve tried to do all these years.

What is your background as a DJ/producer: how did you get interested in electronic music?

Matt O’Brien: I started off in bands when I was younger, mainly playing indie and post-punk stuff. I played guitar and sang. Well, shouted really. I was in an art college band and we all dropped out to live on the dole in Southend and tried to be rock stars. I did that for a few years and slowly absorbed the rave culture that was going on all around me. I railed against it at first but then one day I took a pill in a club and it all made sense. After that it was a question of building up a studio and learning a new way to write music. I started off with an Atari ST and some cheap synths and built it up from there. I’d been writing for years before having the confidence to release anything. I was always far too stoned. Starting Off-key coincided with me giving up weed.

Were you interested in other sounds like grunge or industrial? The reason I ask is because a lot of your productions are raw and noisy — it seems like there are other influences outside techno/house.

Oh yeah, absolutely. Not so much industrial, more so Krautrock / post-punk and reggae — mainly Can, King Tubby and most of all The Fall. Mark E Smith is really the only musical hero I have. I think he’s a genius, albeit quite a pissed genius these days. I never got into industrial. I do try now and again, but I just don’t get it. All I hear is a funkless dirge. Maybe I’m listening to the wrong stuff. I feel the same about all that industrial inspired techno doing the rounds. Don’t get it. I’m not sure if my production sounds noisy. Raw, certainly. I think it’s important to retain the human element. I’m trying to capture a performance and am learning to leave in more of the mistakes and imperfections.

According to your Discogs entry, you were in a punk band in the early 90s – truth, mistake or pure fiction?!

It’s true, sort of – although I wasn’t in the band mentioned in Discogs. In the small Welsh town where I grew up there were two punk bands – one was called The Manic Street Preachers, who went on to have a lot of success, and the other was called Fuck The Cross, who didn’t. I was very briefly a member of Fuck The Cross. I played one of those Yamaha electronic drum machines with the drum pads. It lasted about a week.

Yeah, probably. I can’t see a new wave of the likes that we saw years ago and why would there be? The UK’s strength has always been in mutating and evolving new sounds and genres, which is what we’re seeing now with the whole UK bass movement.

Do you think that the support is there in clubs in London and the UK generally for techno?

There seems to be, although it’s not as strong as it was. There are a number of nights in London that book good artists. The appetite for hearing up and coming artists also seems to be there, although it can be a risk for promoters to put them on so opportunities to hear them are few and far between. The margins between a having a successful night and losing enough money to put the night out of business seem to be slim.

On Off-Key’s website you state that the label does not want any “trendy haircut techno” demos (or words to that effect). Do you feel that the popularity of image-based mnml has been to the detriment of techno music?

“I did that to dissuade people inundating me with crap demos and it did work. I still get sent some inappropriate stuff but not much these days. One guy shared his demos with over 8,000 people on Soundcloud! I mean, come on. You have to be a bit cleverer than that. Do your homework. I don’t think that mnml has had a negative impact on techno. Hopefully all of the bandwagon jumpers have moved on to bongo house now. I guess for a brief time techno was almost cool by association, which always made me feel uncomfortable. Techno should be underground. Techno artists shouldn’t be poncing around sipping champagne. They should drink something earthy and substantial, like Guinness!

By the same token, do you feel that the reaction to mnml was counterproductive and that we now have an ultra-serious techno scene, devoid of humour and fun?

I’m not sure anything has changed, techno’s always been a bit like that I think. I don’t know why. A lot of the people I know who are into techno have a keen sense of humour, just not when it comes to music.

Do you rate any other UK techno labels, or do you feel that the European continent and in particular Germany has dominated techno in recent years? Do you see anyone in the UK, producers or labels, as sharing your approach?

The first few Seldom Felt releases were alright and I’ve picked up a few of the Horizontal Ground ones. Blueprint also still seems to be doing the business. Producer wise, I like a few things that MLZ has done and it’s nice to see some of the old guard like Aubrey and Schatrax getting some props these days. I’m not sure if anyone is sharing my approach, I don’t know what my approach is. Very haphazard I guess. I don’t treat it like a career. Germany certainly has dominated in recent years and it’s easy to see why. There is a real love for it there and they do things right. Whenever I play there it’s organised professionally and the artists are treated very well. I’ve played more times in Germany than in any other country and the crowd are usually clued up and appreciative.

I like the way that Off-Key has been running since 2005, but has only put out five EPs. Is this deliberate? Are you a slow worker or do you feel that there is way too much music being released at the moment?

Firstly, in the past I’ve been guilty of being a terrible procrastinator. Also, having a full time job and a young family doesn’t leave much time for working in the studio. I’m getting better at finishing things quicker but even then it’s a lot of work getting a release together. I have one friend who does the artwork, another who writes the press releases and my girlfriend helps with promotion. Other than that I do everything myself. It’s a lot of work. I do also think that there’s too much stuff being released as well – which wouldn’t be a problem if it weren’t for the fact that most of it is banal.

You recently put out a split EP with Peter Van Hoesen on Curle. How did you hook up with the label? What do you make of the techno coming from Belgium at the moment, from labels like Curle, Time to Express, Mowar etc? Do you see an affinity with them?

I did a remix of Efdemin for Curle a few years ago and kept in touch with Tom (DJ Fader who does the A&R). I recently sent him a track which I didn’t think fit on Off-Key and thankfully he liked it enough to release it. I’ve also recently finished a three track EP for them, which will be my first full EP on a label other than my own. Similarly I’ve been in touch with Franco from Mowar for years, ever since I heard some of the releases he put out on his previous label, Aesthetik. Both Mowar and Curle have put out some strong releases recently and yeah, I do feel an affinity with them. It’s strange how that link has come about, I’ve never even been to Belgium! I’ve been asked to play there a few times but could never make the dates. Hopefully I’ll make it over there soon.

You have done a few remixes lately; do you approach them differently to original productions?

It’s something I have struggled with in the past, although I’m pleased with the remixes I did for Subliminal Kid and Roberto Bosco. I do try and retain something of the original although it doesn’t always work out that way. I’ve turned down more remixes that I’ve accepted over the years. I need to feel something in the original track.

How and where was the mix recorded?

In my front room after putting my son to bed, with a glass of red wine on the side. For this mix I tried using Traktor but I’ve gone back to using vinyl now. It doesn’t feel right pissing about clicking buttons. I thought digital DJing would make it easier to find the tracks I was looking for. I can never find the right record because my vinyl is too disorganised. I actually found it harder finding what I wanted, having to scroll through a list on a screen. With vinyl there’s a visual cue and an emotional connection that I missed. I’m not knocking digital DJing, I don’t care how it’s delivered as long as the music is good, it’s just not for me.

Is it representative of what you play out?

Well I haven’t really DJed out for ages as I’ve concentrated on playing live for the last five years or so. Having said that, I’d bosh it out a bit more if I were playing in a club. There’d probably be more Relief and Dance Mania records!

I like the way that the mix twists and turns from deep and reflective, almost old school to noisy and squelchy and then back to mysterious and tripped out. Was it intentional to cover a lot of ground with the mix?

Yeah, for sure. I like mixes that take you on a journey and that convey different moods. I can’t listen to an hour of the same type of music, or of the same mood. I have a very short attention span.

Are you fan of playing mainly newer stuff or are you the kind of DJ who like to dig deep in his collection to unearth older material?

“I think it’s important to play new tracks to support all the labels out there keeping things going but not at the expense of all the great stuff that’s been released before. There is so much stuff out there that was released 15 or 20 years ago that still sounds fresh today. These days I only buy new records if they really blow me away.

You play live as well, apparently with a load of hardware. Do you prefer live shows to DJing?

Yeah, I do enjoy it most of the time but I’m careful with the gigs I choose to do. I only play live a few times a year but when I do play I try and give it my all. Every time I play out it’s a different set. I have my core tracks but I change the order and try new ideas and maybe bring back older stuff I haven’t played for a while. I need to keep it fresh, to keep it interesting for myself so I can get into it. I don’t know how people do it all weekend every weekend. It must get on their tits. With regards to my live setup, I used to use more hardware when I first started but my studio keeps changing and it’s not easy to take my current equipment out in clubs. Doing this podcast has reinvigorated my interest in DJing so maybe I’ll have some more DJ gigs in future, I dunno. Will have to see what happens.

Finally, what are you up to release wise for the next few months?

The current Off-Key Limited release is still in the shops. It’s got a few old tracks on there that I wrote with other people, including “Sepia” which features in the podcast. Then the new EP on Curle is out in January, I think. Other than that I have no plans at present, I need to find time to spend in the studio.

Tell us about the mix, how it was recorded and what you contributed. Was there a theme?

Silent Servant: No theme, I mixed it live in one take and just tried to do what I do when I DJ live. Both Zak (DVS1) and I still play mainly vinyl, so the mix is very accurate to what you get from us live, in my opinion.

DVS1: Unfortunately due to both of our busy schedules recently we decided to try something different than actually get together and mix this in the same location. Silent Servant starts off the mix until minute 42 and then I jump in and finish it off. He basically sent me his mix, I rolled around with it in my head for a few days and then pulled some tracks to add my half. In terms of a theme, I would say no. What works for us is that we appreciate much of the same music when it comes to techno. I tried as best I could to play tracks that I don’t normally play out, or at least haven’t in a long time. I also added a few unreleased tracks that I haven’t tried anywhere. The issue for me is that I don’t do studio mixes. All of my podcasts and mixes on my site are all recordings from live sets. I really need the crowd’s energy and the feeling of the sound to get into my mixes.

What are you planning for your performances at the Oktave party?

DVS1: No planning… I don’t plan. I just bring a couple bags of records and see what happens. I can say that John and I are excited to play together and especially in Chicago at Smart Bar. I have a feeling it’s gonna be a good night!

SS: We’ll see the night of the party.

LWE’s questions for Silent Servant:

What inspires your personal aesthetic and what inspires your work with Sandwell District?

The Velvet Underground, Gregory Kepes, Marshall McLuhan, Daniel Miller, Karl O’Connor (aka Regis), Claude Eden, Camella Lobo, David Sumner, Richard H. Kirk, Luke Slater, Yves Klein, Marcel Duchamp, the Bauhaus school, “The Leather Boys”, Joe Meek and Hammer Horror films.

Sandwell District seem to be increasingly defining themselves as a collective rather than a label. Is this a fair assessment?

Yes. We have to work together to be productive and balance each other’s insanity. So a collective yes, but by necessity.

What was behind the decision to put out a collective album?

The first Where Next? zine was being done and Karl (Regis) thought it would be a good idea to make a record to accompany it.

You’ve recently put together a mix of 80s post-punk as well as a mix celebrating Tresor in the 90s. Clearly you enjoy revisiting the past; do you feel like looking at the past is an important way to progress?

The past informs the future and some of the music was better.

Function mentioned recently that Sandwell District are “situationists.” Can you explain a little more about the situationist bent of the label/collective?

Situationists or circus clowns. We go with what happens. Nothing is planned, we just do what we want.

Despite cultivating an aura of anonymity around Sandwell District, the collective and its releases have a solid sonic and visual identity. As the person behind most of those visuals, what role do they play in getting across the SD message?

The visuals are there to guide the identity and we hope the message is honesty in art and music.We never try to hide what we do. It is in circulation and liked and disliked equally.

What’s up next for you, Historia y Violencia, and Sandwell District?

For me, a new Tropic of Cancer 10″ with a Richard H. Kirk remix on Downwards and a full length For Sandwell District at some point next year. H&V has two new split 12″s, one by Roque Hernandez and Raíz and one by David Alvarado and Santiago Salazar. Sandwell has a few 12″s planned after the album but nothing we can really discuss yet.

LWE’s questions for DVS1:

Most people who think of the American Midwest tend to focus on Detroit and Chicago. What are the positives and negatives of being part of the more isolated Minneapolis scene?

I wouldn’t say we’re that isolated. We get plenty of great talent that come through here and we definitely take pride in our sound systems being better than most other major cities in the US. Minneapolis has always been one of the Midwest’s best kept secrets. The good is that Minneapolis doesn’t have to live up to any reputation or history of influence. We take the best of everywhere and mix it up into our own little Midwest niche. We’ve always been influenced by everyone from Chicago, Detroit, New York and abroad, but we never just stick to one of those sounds. We find the best tracks from everywhere and beat them all together. The bad is that all though we have strong support for good music here, it’s a bit small in terms of multiple events on the same night. Luckily most of the promoters, DJs, et al. stay in contact behind the scenes and communicate so we don’t overwhelm our audience with too many places to be on one night. It really helps make all of our events successful. Although it would be nice to have our community double in size so that we could do multiple events without anyone losing.

Many producers in America end up leaving for places that are more accepting of techno, like Berlin. Does that hold any allure for you?

Of course it’s alluring, but for now I’m happy to be here and traveling when possible. Too many people have made that jump prematurely and not been ready or had to really struggle to make it work. If things continue at the rate they have been, who knows. Check in with me next year!

Your first two releases have arrived on hugely noteworthy labels, Transmat and Klockworks. What have those signings done for your confidence? How do you feel now that you’ve set the bar so high for yourself?

I couldn’t have asked for two better labels to do my first releases on. I still feel extremely humbled and excited by the reaction those records got from my peers as well as my audience. I’m still just as excited to make music now as I was when I made those tracks. As far as confidence, I’ve always been confident in my approach and honesty in what I do. If anything this puts the pressure on me to stay honest and keep going the way I have been for all these years. I do well under pressure, it’s when I get comfortable that I get lazy, so setting the bar high was exactly what I needed to keep things moving.

Who are some contemporary producers who you see as leading the way in dance music?

Honestly, too many to name. In the history of house/techno you read about the different “waves” of producers that hit during different periods of time. I really feel that a new but well established wave of artists who have been working hard for the last 10-15 years are now getting their time in the sun. A lot of my peers have a very similar story to mine. They’ve been a part of the dance music culture for years and they stuck with it out of true passion and perseverance. They are now out front leading the way and telling stories about their personal experience and history through the music they make and play!

What’s next for DVS1?

Releases and touring. I’ve got another Klockworks coming in the next few months as well as a record for Luke Slater on Mote Evolver. Also, some remixes for Joris Voorn, Perc Trax, Darko Esser and Sian. I’ve been working on remixes for a while now and I’m almost done with all my obligations. I really need to make time to focus on getting some more original material done. Also, Enemy Records (run by Dustin Zahn) just licensed my digital-only release on Timefog and put it out on vinyl: DVS1, Flight to Nowhere EP.

I gotta say that I have been really lucky and a bit pushy to make sure that my music is released on vinyl labels! I still play all vinyl and to be able to play my tracks on wax makes all the difference.

There are lots of people who are doing deep house these days, and your stuff usually gets lumped in with the deep house stuff. But there’s something different about what you’re doing. It’s not deep so much as it is dark. People usually think about house as lighter music and techno as darker music, but your stuff’s darker than a lot of techno. Where do you place your stuff? Is it a misconception that house can’t be as dark as techno?

DJ Qu: Oh yeah, of course. You got to remember when it comes to electronic music or dance music, house is the root of it. So everything stems off of it. But that’s funny you ask that question. That’s a very good question, because we were talking about it the other day, me and some of my friends. We were listening to some of the tracks that I’ve put out, and even I was like, ‘Man, everything I do is so dark! Why is it so dark?’ I sit at home trying to make light tracks, and it still comes out dark. So I guess that’s just a personality thing, really. When you hear someone doing dark tracks or light tracks, it’s really more — that’s how they are. I think you can try to change things here and there and be successful. But for the most part, who you are is what’s going to come out.

As far as me being lumped in with the deep house stuff, I actually prefer to be there, because that’s where I consider myself to be. I don’t see me as a techno artist; I don’t see me as any other style except for deep house, because that’s all I know, that’s what I [first] heard. So I’m kind of happy to be lumped in that particular spot. But it is dark, I agree.

When did you first hear house? How were you first involved with it?

I don’t know how long you’ve been in the States, but in the late ‘80s, early ‘90s, you couldn’t get away from house music. It was everywhere. Anywhere you went, that’s what they was listening to. When I was up in Jersey, any party I went to, any high school party I went to, anything — house music was what hip-hop is now, you know? You heard it everywhere. Basically everybody was into it. As years went on, little by little, people started chipping off of that, but people who still felt it stayed, and that’s who the true heads are today, you know? The people who never left it, like me.

I was listening to house tracks and dance tracks even before it was really [codified as such]. It was just the music and the sound of the culture. In the late ‘80s, I was maybe 10 years old. People who were older than me, people that were going out already when the [Paradise] Garage was around and all that — everybody knew what it was. There’s no real explanation for how I got into it. It was around me. It caught me, and I stayed with it ‘til today. That’s basically how it breaks down.

Back when I was younger, I was very, very much into dancing. It started with hip-hop dance. I come from a Latin background, so there was Latin dancing, too. What’s house tracks now, they were just tracks we used to dance-off with, you know, the B-boy-ing or whatever it was. That’s what got me into the music: it was through dance that I actually got to find what house music was.

You were pursuing house dancing professionally during the ‘90s, right?

[I did it with] the people I ended up meeting and connecting with through the dance scene. It was a natural elevation from learning to getting better to being competitive to being seen by other people to traveling and teaching and whatever else came with it. So it’s a natural progression, the same with the music.

Do you remember some of the artists or producers you were dancing to? Was it a lot of the stuff we think about now as classic house?

Back then, I wasn’t aware of where the actual house music was coming from. I just thought it was [generally] a U.S. thing. Later, I found out it was Chicago cats, that it was Chicago people who started doing the style of music that everybody was getting into at the time. It slowly moved into New York producers, Detroit producers. But it wasn’t until years later that I figured out where these guys were actually from and how they came about. That’s why I have a lot of respect for a lot of the older cats that contributed to the music today. It was a new sound back then, so it just took over everything, really.

How did you make the transition from dancing to being involved in the music side of the culture?

It actually turned out that a good friend of mine and my cousin were DJs back in the early ‘90s. I would always go by their house and they would be DJing, and they used to do all the parties in the area. I would go by their house and just be like, ‘Let me just test the [equipment].’ I would try to learn how to blend. Back then, there used to be a lot of scratching with the mixing, so I used to try to learn all that. A good friend of mine, Mok, who I actually reconnected with about a year ago after not talking to the guy in like 15 years — I would go by his house, and he would let me play with his stuff. He would teach me about it, he would show me records, and one day I went up and said — now this was a long-shot — I said, ‘Can you do me a favor? Do you think it’d be a problem if maybe I took the equipment home for a week?’ And he said, ‘Oh yeah yeah, sure, no problem.’ You can’t do that today! You can’t ask somebody if you can just bring their equipment home. They’ll look at you like, you gotta get your own. But he lent it to me, I worked out with it for like two or three weeks, because for some reason he just didn’t care to go get it back. I’ve been DJing ever since.

You didn’t get into production until much later, though — 2006.

2005, actually.

Gotcha. Was there a catalyst, something that finally made you not just want to play other people’s music? Did you see an opening, a chance to bring something to house music that wasn’t in there already?

I remember night after night being home before I had to go to school, just listening to house music — different DJs, different mixes you could get off the radio all night, day, night, day. My family’s like, ‘What’s wrong with you? Is that all you listen to?’ It was really just from being into it so much that I wanted to do my own tracks. I’m not a musician, even though I’m learning how to play things now as I go. The funny thing is, I was so broke, I was never able to afford any equipment that I needed to make tracks. I didn’t actually start making music until maybe ten years after the time I really wanted to start making records. I just never had the funds to do it. I knew some people who had equipment, but they would never share it.

That’s basically how the history goes with me. I’m not someone who just came out of nowhere and was like, let me just start making electronic house records. I was– [house music] governed my life. Any decision I made, it always revolved around — you know, am I going to be able to go to the house club after I’m done doing all this? No? Well then I’m not doing it. Is there a house party going on tonight on a Thursday? I’m going, and I’ll be at school the next day. It was just a love for the music. It grabbed me. I couldn’t refuse it, and just like with the dancing, it’s all a natural progression going down the line, from dancing to finding the music to listening to the music to DJing the music, and from DJing the music to making the music. I’m a DJ first before I’m a music producer, so that’s basically how it rolls with me.

You say you’re not a musician. Talk to me about your studio, then. Are you mostly working with computers?

Qu: I even get this question from friends, “What are you using?” I tell them all the time that it really doesn’t matter. Right now, as far as making my tracks, my computer is the platform for me to lay out everything. I have a bunch of programs, I mean, you name it. The only one I don’t have is Ableton. I’ve never even seen what that looks like! But the computer is a major point in [my studio]. It’s where I lay out all my tracks, any sounds I do, any sounds I bring in from any equipment I have, that’s where it gets sequenced out, written out, and made into a song. I do have hardware. I have a nice big 32-by-8 Mackie mixing board where I do a lot of the mixdowns. So I use a little bit of everything. I like organic stuff, too; if you give me two forks, I’m gonna bang out a track with that. At the end of the day, it really doesn’t matter what you have. A lot of people focus on that, too. I see a lot of interviews and a lot of, ‘What did you use? What are you using?’ Even if you buy exactly what your favorite producer has, it ain’t gonna sound like him.

I ask about it, because when you were starting to make music, computers had really started to make it easier from a financial standpoint to produce, and it sounds like that was the biggest inhibitor for you.

Actually, my very first piece of equipment, which I unfortunately don’t have anymore, was the Alesis QS6 keyboard. It’s an old model, not around anymore. I sold it. I wish I didn’t, because I think it’d be a very useful thing today. But my first pieces of gear were analog. Through the hardship, I had to get rid of them, and I had stopped making tracks for awhile.

When you got rid of your gear… was this before you’d released anything?

Yeah, oh yeah. A lot of the music I made with that stuff, I don’t even have anymore unfortunately, because I didn’t have the computer or the stuff to actually store tracks the way you can today. The computer side of it… I mean, it does help, because it lets me actually see what I’m doing. I don’t have to, kind of — I like doing live stuff, but I’m not the type to just do a live recording, end of session, here’s the track. I also like to think about and imagine what should come next — to sit and listen and say, [given] the mood of this track, this is what should happen. But I wouldn’t say the computer era made it easier for me to start making tracks because I was already doing it, but it did help. It definitely did help.

Speaking of how you developed as a producer, I’ve been hearing for awhile that you have an album in the works.

Still in the works.

Where are you at with it? Are you getting closer to it being ready for release?

Ummm… where am I at, where am I at. You know, the problem is that I’m such a picky mofo that I’m very, like — being that it’s my first album, I kind of want to be strategic about it. As far as the music side of the album, I have music that I’ve done. Out of that whole catalog of maybe 100 tracks, I’ve got it down to maybe three or four that I know I’m going to use for the album.

Wait. You have a backlog of 100 tracks? That’s a ton of tracks to try to pick and choose from.

A lot of them aren’t finished. A lot of them are just grooves. But they’re there. If I decide I want to touch them, I will. The album not being done is just because I’m very picky. I remember going to record stores. The record guy gives me 50 records, I listen to those, listen to everything, give them all back and only take one. And they all look at me like, ‘What’s wrong with you?’ I’m very picky. I’m a very picky person. I’m very hard to please. That’s basically why my album hasn’t come to life just yet. It’s got to sound right to me before I can release it to anyone else. If I think something’s off, then anyone can say something’s off. If I think it’s right, then nine times out of 10, you might like it, or they might like it, or everyone will kind of understand what it is I’m seeing.

So why an album? I know for a lot of producers, making an album is this big step. It’s something more than just a collection of tracks. Where are you going with it? Are you trying to tell a story with it, make something that’s really carefully sequenced?

Oh yeah. It has to be.

…and put tracks on it that aren’t necessarily dance floor material?

Oh yeah. To me, an album has got to have it all — dance floor stuff, stuff that sounds good riding around in your car listening to it, stuff that sounds good just [at] home, stuff that’ll sound good in here [Ninth Street Espresso, E. 9th St. and Ave. C in Manhattan… great coffee shop with a pretty great iPod – Ed.]. It has to have the whole scenario of life. Now I can’t guarantee the album will have all that, but hopefully just in my head it will. It’s got to be right to me.

Are there any dance music albums that have been especially inspiring to you? Because it’s a tricky thing. A lot of producers don’t do it right. Can you think of any that really do what you’re talking about?

That’s hard. You know why that’s hard? Because a lot of the albums that I listen to aren’t necessarily dance albums. I can go on and on with albums that I think are awesome, like Wu-Tang Clan albums… but being that this is an electronic website, let’s think of a good dance album that I would say is really inspiring. [Qu thinks deeply for a moment.] Another Side. Fingers Inc. Not only is it an awesome album; it’s a milestone in dance music. It just taught everyone so much. I feel that album was just one of the grand teachers of the whole scheme of things when it comes to house music and electronic music. So that’s an album I’d definitely pick out.

As a producer and as a DJ, how important is vinyl to you?

Oh man. I think if you don’t play vinyl, you shouldn’t be called a DJ, because the term came from people playing vinyl, it didn’t come from anything else. So at this point, you shouldn’t be called a DJ if you’re not playing vinyl. Vinyl is very important. It’s a part of history. I mean, I’m not gonna lie: the market is very scary right now when it comes to vinyl. You don’t know what’s going to come in the future. I’m a big supporter of it. And there’s not better way of storing music. I don’t know of any other way of storing music that’s better than vinyl. If anyone does, please let me know, because, I mean, you can buy a vinyl record, a brand new record that just came out, for $10, and instead of that vinyl losing value… if you sell it 10 years from now, 20 years from now, 30 years from now, you can sell it for $100. You see it all the time. If you go online and see a record that’s good, it sells for more than it did brand new. What other form of music can do that? No one’s going to buy a used CD from you; I know I’m not. Who’s gonna buy a used CD from you? A computer’s not going to last forever. I don’t care how good of a computer you have, you’re going to have to keep shifting your music from computer to computer to hard drive to hard drive to hard drive. Vinyl, if you protect it, take care of it, it lasts forever. So it’s really the best way of storing music. And as far as playing music, that’s what I’m used to. If music was being mixed through 8-tracks when I was young coming in, then 8-tracks would be what I know. Vinyl’s what I know. I do play CDs, and I do download and all that, but vinyl is my thing.

Let’s talk about your own label, Strength Music. Tell me about the Exchange Place crew.

We’re all dudes who grew up around each other, who went through the same thing when it comes to music. Same history. We’ve known each other since we were, you know, [approximates height of little kid with hand] yay high. Always played together, always — whenever he had a new record, he’d come show us. It was a competition, and it was a place where we just exchanged what everybody was doing, and that’s where the term came up. Big ups to a Joey Anderson, because he’s the one who came up with the concept.

I wanted to ask about him specifically. He’s not as well-known a producer as you are, but his tracks on the Exchange Place 12”s are pretty good. He also started out as a dancer. Did you encourage him to start producing, or were you both just on parallel tracks?

Dance is how we met. He was a dancer, and I was a dancer. We’d be in the clubs, and that’s how we connected. Music-wise, he loved music, and I loved music. As far as the music-making side of it, I kind of encouraged him and pushed him in that direction. You know, [the Exchange Place guys] were all around me. They saw me do it, and naturally, if you’re going to stay around me, you’re naturally going to get involved in it, and that’s how he came about when it comes to the music side of things. As far as not being a well-known producer, he’s coming. His label’s coming — in a couple of months, actually, the first [release] should drop.

What’s the concept behind the Semesters 12”s? It seems like it’s more well-known people than the Exchange Place records.

The Exchange Place 12”s particularly deal with my personal crew, the ones I see on a daily basis. The Semesters releases could actually be anyone. As of now, I’ve kind of stuck to the same format. For this new one, I included Fred P, whereas in the first one, I had P.Funk, who’s another good friend of mine. But the Semesters is just kind of a reflection of what’s happening for us at the moment, and that’s why it’s called Semesters, like in school. You’re a junior, you’re a freshman, sophomore… it’s kind of the same concept: what’s happening with us at that particular moment.

How did you and Jus-Ed hook up? He’s been a big part of how you’ve gotten more recognition.

Qu: That brother has helped me out tremendously in the music world. Funnily enough, me and Ed met through MySpace. I had sent him a message. He sent me a message back. We’e kicked it ever since. And I remember that at the time I sent him the message, we already had To Eaches Own out, which was the first release from Strength Music. That release came out in 2005. It had such bad distribution that any interview I saw on it, any write-up, everyone thought it came out in 2007 — 2006 or 2007 — not knowing that it was already out in ‘05, but it had no distribution. It wasn’t until I got with Ed, and he helped me with some of the distributors that he knew, that the record was actually able to go out to different places in the world. Met him through MySpace — one of the best blessings the internet’s ever brought me.

I know Ed told us that it’s really important to him that people who put out stuff on Underground Quality go on to start their own labels.

It’s actually really important to me, too, the same concept. Ed and I talk about it all the time. I was actually talking to him coming here… he and Levon [Vincent] just came back from Japan. We’ve got Joey that’s coming out with his label; we’ve got Nicuri, another artist from Exchange Place, getting ready to do his thing. I think it’s very important as an artist for you to start your own label, if you can, because who wants to sit around and wait — you know, if you’re an artist on my label, you really want to sit around and wait for my timetable? You’re going to release your stuff when I say it’s coming out? No. As an artist, you want to have everything in your full control, so it is very important that people start their own thing.

It also makes the scene more vibrant. It puts more stuff on the shelves, gets more people active. Speaking of which, what’s your take on the state of the house music scene here in New York?

It’s hard to call. I was actually on a phone call yesterday with Mike Huckaby, and we were just talking about how — how is it possible that there’s nothing popping off in the US? Nothing that’s big-time, the way it used to be. As far as New York in general, we’re still here. There’s still good music coming out of it. A lot of people promoted us as the new wave of New York, which was more the media promoting it that way. New York’s always going to be around. Whether it’s going to be back up here, back down there, I can’t call it. As far as us and the crew, we do what we love, and I think that’s why it’s blossomed all right for us. But New York’s not going nowhere. Neither is Chicago, neither is Detroit. One place might get more buzz than the other at this point of the whole scene, then the other might come in with more shine than the other. It’s just the same circle over and over.

You’re juggling a music career with also having a full-time job. Is the goal to eventually not have the day-job anymore, or do you like having that balance?

If it were up to me, I would like the idea of leaving the full-time job, because personally I’d rather put all my energy towards what I want to do. The full-time job is something I have to do: I have bills, I have responsibilities, there are certain things I’ve got to take care of. I gotta work. The full-time job gets me through a lot, but if it were up to me, I wouldn’t be juggling both worlds. For example, starting in the middle of this month — September — ’til the end of November, outside of the hours I have to put in at my nine-to-five, I have a very busy travel schedule when it comes to the DJing side. By the time all that’s said and done, I’m going to be burned out. Who wants to be burned out? So no. If it were up to me, I would cut the nine-to-five out.

It’s definitely become harder to just have a music career, if you’re going to be in house or techno. What do you think is driving that?

Well personally, when it comes to me, I think basically it’s because of where we live. It’s very expensive out here. I know a lot of artists that are doing music only and surviving off music only, but they don’t live in my area. They don’t live nowhere around me. They live in places where living is a lot cheaper, in other countries where things are a lot easier. I think a lot of it has to do with where we live. You can’t live in Manhattan or New York or wherever by selling 1,500 copies of a record; it’s not gonna happen, things are too expensive out here. So I think that’s one of the main things. I think that’s why people have to keep jobs and stuff, especially if you’re an artist from out here.

Do you ever think about picking up and moving to Berlin?

Not really. Not right now, at least. I’m about to be there for a week, and I can see me going there for a week or two or three at the most, maybe a month, but not just picking up and leaving, not right now. Levon’s out there, and he tells me all the time, ‘You’ve got a place to stay, you’re more than welcome if you want to come out here.’ So I have offers, if I actually wanted to go check it out and live for awhile. I’ve been there plenty of times, and I love it. But as of now, I’m a Jersey dude. I’m staying in Jersey. I know the US. I’ll stay here.

So what’s up next?

Right now, we are working on a project with the label Hello?Repeat. We got a project coming out, and we’re just under negotiations… is it going to be a one-vinyl release, two-vinyl release, will there be remixes, who’s gonna do the remixes? So we’re negotiating that, and hopefully in October — end of October, that’ll be out. As far as Strength Music, there might be one more release before the year is out, can’t guarantee it. It all depends, because I have a busy travelling schedule, which I just told you about. If not, 2011, we’ll hit ‘em hard again. No set-up releases as far as names and stuff just yet. I’m going to keep working on the album, because I really wanted to do it this year, and it might be this year, but I don’t know. As far as travelling, the next few months will be — I’m grateful I’ll be able to see Berlin again, which I love. I’m going to see Amsterdam, I’m going to be in Canada, I’m going to be in Italy, and different parts of the U.S. So that’s basically what’s going on with me right now, and the label.

I guess that basically covers it. Did you have anything else you wanted to throw in?

Can I say one short message?

Yeah, throw it out there

It’s the same thing I always say: live the music. You’ve got to live the music if you want to contribute and be a part of the music. Don’t just come out of nowhere. You’ve got to live whatever it is that you’re doing. That’s it. Is it alright if I say some quick shout-outs to some people?

Shout it out.

Of course, to my big brother Jus-Ed. Fred P. Levon Vincent. Anthony Parasole. Russian crew — Nina [Kraviz] and Anton [Zap]. Aybee. Detroit — everybody I met in Detroit. Europe. Japan. The world. Thank you for accepting me and letting me do what I do.

How did you meet? How did this Sepalcure collaboration come about?

Praveen Sharma: I was just getting really inspired by all this UK-whatever, this past year especially. I’d been doing the Praveen & Benoit for awhile, and I was just kind of bored, and Travis was just kind of bored, and I’d started making beats again for the first time in awhile. I invited Travis over and was just playing some shit, and we just started doing it for fun.

But your history goes back a ways before Sepalcure, right? How far back do you go?

Travis Stewart: Years. Maybe like eight years. Praveen was helping out with a show and was also performing, at Knitting Factory, wasn’t it?

PS: Yeah, downstairs at [the old Manhattan location of] the Knitting Factory.

TS: We had been talking off-and-on before then, and he’d been playing some of my Machinedrum records on his radio show upstate, like he’s been doing the Percussion Lab Radio thing for years. We’d just been talking then, and I met him through a couple shows. When I was living in Florida, I would come up to play in New York. Then I moved to New York, and we pretty much started hanging out all the time. We lived together at one point, like I was subletting at his place. It’s kind of funny that we’ve known each other for so long and only within the past year have really started collaborating musically. But it’s been beautiful the whole way.

Was there something that you guys bonded over musically, like a particular style or particular records, something that made the relationship click?

TS: Not necessarily. We have a lot of similar tastes across the board as far as genres go. We’re always playing each other different records and sending each other tunes and stuff. But Praveen definitely got me into a lot more of the UK sounds. I’d always been aware of the UK sound and dubstep and stuff like that, but I wasn’t that into it. Praveen was really digging into a lot of stuff and was playing me really interesting stuff that was coming out of the whole dubstep scene and UK funky scene and just bass music in general. Just from giving me a bunch of tracks, he started getting me on the same kind of path. He was a big influence on me to start doing more of that dubstep sound for sure.

Praveen, did this sharing go in the other direction as well? Were you getting lots of music from Travis?

PS: I’ve always gotten a lot of music from Travis. I still get shit-tons, especially now that we’re doing these back-to-back Serato sets. I’m thrilled because I end up every time with like a boulder full of gems. He was a big influence earlier on, especially when I was doing my Neo Ouija album. I just loved what he was doing with the whole glitch-hop thing and all that. The whole time [we've known each other], we’ve always been sending each other tunes. I think it just sort of flipped this time. It’s been more of me being like, “You’ve got to hear this shit! This shit is not the shitty dubstep that we don’t like! It’s better!”

Praveen, you mentioned that album you put out awhile back on Neo Ouija. I wanted to talk about each of your music careers before Sepalcure. What were you both up to?

PS: Originally I was doing a lot of IDM. I was sort of in the same circle as Travis, and I used to send him stuff. I thought he was the shit, because he came out with this sound before Prefuse 73 did. But I was always doing a way more toned-down, minimal, ambient electronic thing. That was for my Neo Ouija release and my Ai release, my Expanding Records release. All that stuff was very minimal, electronic, ambient. Then eventually I went through a period where I was pretty bored by a lot of electronic music. I went on this trip to India and sort of found half of my roots — half of my family is Puerto Rican, and is Indian — and I came back with a harmonium and some tablas, and I started working on this project with my friend Tom [Meluch], who goes by the name Benoit Pioulard, on Kranky, and that was way more of a folky sort of vibe. That was the last, like, three years maybe, with no beats. I would maybe throw in some beats, but not like we’re doing now. I was very far removed from what we’re doing now. The lead-up was fun. It was this big switch-up that’s been pretty inspiring.

And Travis, a big part of your back-story has been Machinedrum, right?

TS: As far as the Machinedrum sound goes, it’s always kind of been up to whatever I’m into at the moment, you know? I’ve never really adhered to any rules, like that my sound has to be part of some specific formula or anything. It’s definitely — like since I’ve moved to New York, it’s become more dance-centered and more clubby. I definitely feel like the Sepalcure project has been a natural progression from what I’ve been doing with the Machinedrum stuff to this new sound we’ve been getting into.

It sounds like the beginnings of Sepalcure were pretty casual. When did you know you were onto something? When did you start thinking in terms of releases?

TS: We didn’t plan on it originally. Originally, just like Praveen said, we were both bored. We just wanted to make some tunes influenced by the stuff we were both listening to at the time. We were passing it out to friends, and you know, when you’re friends with people who work with labels or know people who work with labels, it’s sometimes natural that those songs end up in other people’s hands. It just happened to be that we passed a couple of the unreleased Sepalcure tracks to Alex Incyde from Dub War, and we had no idea that he was actually doing PR for Hotflush at the time. He passed along the tracks to Scuba and got back to us before we were even considering demo-ing out tracks. It was really cool that it happened that naturally.

PS: Yeah, the shit we sent him wasn’t even finished! I think the first time for me that we were really onto something was our booking at Bass Mutations [at Unsound Festival New York this past February]. It’s like, how the fuck did that happen? We had no releases, we really hadn’t even performed; that was our first performance together. And it went off really well. I think that was the first time we were like, ‘Holy shit, this is gonna be dope!’

You didn’t send out any demos to get that gig? They just got in touch with you?

PS: Well I mean, we had sent Alex and also Dave [Q, founder of Dub War] — it’s kind of a funny story, because we’d sent both of them some tunes. Alex hit us up and was like — we still had no idea he was working at Hotflush — he was like, ‘I think Paul [Rose, aka Scuba] would really like these.’ And we were like, ‘No, no no no no! They’re not done!’ But Dave didn’t ask! He just sent them. Dave was actually the one who sent them to Scuba. We had no idea, and then the next thing we knew Scuba was hitting us up for two tracks — “Feeling That I Know So Well” and “Deep City.”

This is kind of a nice segue. I was doing some research on you guys getting set for this interview–

PS: Creepy!

Yeah, this is gonna sound a little creepy. You know, if you google “lovestep,” you guys are the first thing that comes up.

TS: Naturally.

As someone who listens to a lot of this stuff, I think it’s kind of a fantastic tag. Like it’s kind of silly.

TS: It’s kind of funny. We were both noticing this whole shift in the dubstep scene, taking the whole “brostep” sound and just, like, melt-your-face bass lines and intense testosterone-driven music to a more relaxed, more soulful, more melodic kind of form, with the influence of diva vocals and everything like that, bringing the sound full-circle with this kind of New York and Chicago house sound that was so big in the ‘90s and that kind of disappeared for awhile. I think it’s sort of reinvigorated a lot of producers that are out right now.

So you guys were obviously aware of what was going on. I didn’t really know that the timetable was like when you guys were making the Love Pressure EP. I was wondering if your sound was a reaction to people like Joy Orbison, or Pangaea with his “Memories” release…

PS: Of course. My lovestep mixes were definitely a reaction to that. It was just me loving that shit. The term was actually coined by our friend Nick, who lives in London and used to be the chef for Warp or something crazy like that. He came by, I think in September or late August [2009], when we’d first started. He heard us throwing in all these diva vocals and this soulful New York garage or New York house sort of sound, and he was like, “That’s some lovestep.” I thought it was hilarious. But to be honest, that was when we were just doing it for fun. It’s a funny term, but we wouldn’t want to be pigeonholed right now, because a lot of the tracks that we have cooking right now are a lot darker. There’s still some of the loved-up ones, but we have a lot of diverse tracks that are ready.

If you’ll permit me to do a little reading of what you guys are doing… you know, I definitely hear the similarities with UK people like Joy Orbison or even Floating Points. But it totally makes sense that you guys are doing this in Brooklyn. From a geographical standpoint, you have the people to your east, in London and elsewhere in the UK, who have taken influences from New York and almost pushed them into the pop realm. But then I also hear in your sound a lot of what’s going on to your west in LA, where the beats aren’t totally quantized and there’s this hazy, stoner quality to the mids. Do you feel yourselves sitting between these two scenes, pulled in both directions by them?

PS: We’re influenced by everything we hear, for sure. But we have a lot of [those qualities] that we’d been doing in our own side projects. We are definitely very influenced by what’s happened in the past in New York, and it’s a huge inspiration for us to see people like FaltyDL, people like Kingdom, all these producers who are coming up now who are sort of bringing this New York garage thing back in a different way. That’s really inspiring for us.

TS: And I also feel that there’s been this big shift in locality of music. Like, there was a New York sound, and there was a predominant UK sound and West Coast sound and what have you. And now I really feel like, especially with today’s technology, it’s all becoming more world music, in a way. People are influencing each other and creating music that — like, you have a producer from Detroit or wherever making something that could very well come straight out of London, and this is happening everywhere right now. It’s becoming harder and harder to pin down a localized scene. I’m kind of embracing that right now. It’s kind of exciting to think about music being more worldly rather than localized.

It’s interesting, because you’re influenced by music that’s from New York, that’s part of your local cultural history, and also by music that’s influenced by New York music. Like, could Sepalcure have even happened 15 or 20 years ago, before the Internet allowed music to travel around like it has?

TS: If we had, for whatever reason, 15 years ago had the sickest connections to DJs and record circles and stuff, maybe we would be doing the same stuff. It’s really hard to tell. Obviously we’re both very passionate about music and seeking out music, so who knows? Maybe 15 years ago we would have sought out music in the same way, you know, just used whatever resources we had at the time rather than the Internet.

Let’s get into Love Pressure now. From the artwork to the flow of the tracks, it doesn’t just feel like a 12″. Like, it’s four tracks, but it feels like you’ve approached it as a cohesive unit. Once you guys got serious about releasing something, were you trying to create a whole rather than parts?

TS: I think what happened, and the reason it kind of sounds so cohesive, is because we were literally writing a lot of those tracks in the same two- to three-week period, or at least starting a lot of them. So they naturally all ended up sounding similar, because we were just on a certain tip at that time and weren’t even necessarily concerned if the songs sounded too much like each other or if we were using the same samples in some of the songs. We just wanted to do it. Yeah, I think it just has to do with the timing.

PS: On the artwork tip, we’ve tried to maintain a kind of cohesive style artistically. It’s actually Sougwen Chung who’s been doing a lot of the artwork. When we were just doing it for fun, she was living out in Europe and would send us these live drawings to tracks we were working on, like “Every Day Of My Life” and “Feeling That I Know So Well.”

Yeah, you can find videos of those on the internet, right?

PS: Yes. They weren’t ever supposed to be on the Internet. They were, you know, just supposed to be for us. Then all of a sudden they started getting a lot of views.

TS: It kind of happened in the same manner that the tracks did. We made the tracks for us to jam to, you know? There was no intention of tons of other people hearing them. It was kind of cool that both the visual side and the music side kind of came together in that way. It was like accidental exposure in a way.

Love Pressure is for sure cohesive, but for me, there’s one real standout. Can you talk specifically about how “The Warning” came together?

TS: We were trying to make an interlude track.

PS: Yeah, that’s exactly how it started.

An interlude track?

PS: We were like, okay, we have all these tracks, we should make an interlude track or something. So I just jumped on the Rhodes and started playing some keys, and we threw in some ambient soundscapes we were working on. Travis was at the controls while I was playing the stuff on the Rhodes. Next thing I know, I hear beats, and I’m like — I turn around, and I’m like, ‘This is supposed to be an interlude track!’ And he’s like, ‘No, motherfucker. This is too dope to be just an interlude track.’ And then we just went with it. I think that’s why it might sound a little bit separate, is because it started from a different place.

TS: Yeah, the initial approach was very different.

Speaking of approach… as a duo, is there a distinct division of labor when you guys are in the studio?

TS: Recently we’ve been experimenting with the long-distance thing. I spent a month in Europe, and we got to experiment with a different way of making tracks. It’s been very successful, but it’s definitely very different. When we’re in the studio together, it’s basically like, whenever one person becomes fed up or just kind of overwhelmed with all the work, we just kind of switch it up and then the next person takes the lead. He may continue with what the other person was doing or may do something completely different. There’s no real rules.

PS: There’s no real rules. But I think the one important rule that’s actually made this such a fucking awesome process to work together is that we really just let either of us try whatever we want to try. Then if we don’t like it, or if the other person doesn’t like it, you know, then we flip it up. There’s a lot of elements in these tracks that started as something totally different. Say I start some bullshit. Travis comes to it, and he’s like, ‘I like some of this,’ and then, like, flips it. We just keep switching.

TS: There’s a lot of trust.

PS: Yeah, a lot of trust.

So what’s next? Let’s first talk about what’s coming up release-wise. You guys have your first EP out right now. What can we look forward to?

PS: We’re working on an EP right now, another EP for Hotflush. We’re hoping for the fall, so it’s a tentative fall release. We’ve got the tracks done. Basically, we’ve just got to get in the studio again and finish a lot of them. And then we’ll see what happens after that. I mean, there’s a lot floating around right now, but that’s really our next big goal. We have a handful of gigs at Decibel Festival [in Seattle] — a Hotflush showcase with Sepalcure, Scuba, and Untold. Machinedrum has a show, and then I’m doing a Praveen performance. It might turn out to be Praveen and Benoit, I’m not sure yet. This winter, we’re hopefully heading overseas to do some Sepalcure shows.

TS: Something we’ve been trying to maintain, and it’s difficult — you know, when you start a project and you start putting out releases, you have a certain amount of pressure, if you will, to create and put out new stuff. And I think what was so beautiful about everything we’ve made together is that there was a complete lack of that pressure. So we’re trying to maintain that as much as we can. There’s obviously people asking us to do mixes or, you know, when’s the next album coming out, when’s the next EP or whatnot. But we’re just trying to take it one day at a time just like we naturally would. When the time comes that we have enough material to put out a release, it’ll happen. I’m very confident of it.

How about performing? Praveen, you briefly mentioned some overseas shows a second ago.

PS: This winter, there are some tentative dates overseas, in London and we’ll see what happens with those. We can’t really talk too much about them, they’re up in the air, but they will hopefully be pretty big.

Considering how fast things are happening for these guys, I thought it might be good idea to touch base once more with Praveen and Travis before our original interview went to press. Not surprisingly, they had quite a lot to fill me in on. They answered a few more questions via email.

Decibel Festival was on the horizon when we last talked. How’d that go?

Sepalcure: Decibel was fantastic. We both played solo sets at different venues and then converged to play the Hotflush showcase, which confusingly had the worst sound system but the best crowd. We had a blast and hope to get to play on a proper system next time. Was great to see Seattle’s crowd absolutely hungry for the Hotflush sound.

I understand that your intended your next EP for Hotflush, which you’ve just finished, as a bit of a departure. What’s different about it? Was there anything different about your process this time around?

This time around, there was far more back and forth between us. With Love Pressure, we’d worked on all the tracks only while together in the studio. I think “Fleur” is the only track we both started and finished together on this one. Otherwise, we feel like it’s just a natural progression from that sound we started exploring with Love Pressure.

When’s it due out?

Just in time for the tour this December. [Hotflush informs us the EP is actually scheduled for January -Ed.] Actually just sent the final pre-masters out to Scuba today. We’ve got our visual artist, Sougwen, hard at work on the next batch of Sepalcure art. Anyone who knows her work already should get excited — she’s been working with new mediums just for this EP.

Mary Anne Hobbs has been a massive supporter of you guys. On her final Radio 1 show, she mentioned that she’d been working with Darren Aronofsky on the soundtrack to his forthcoming film Black Swan, and that it would feature some music from you guys. Talk to me about how this came together. Will the movie feature new and exclusive Sepalcure jams, or is it stuff we’ll already be familiar with?

Mary Anne Hobbs is actually the reason we landed this amazing opportunity. We’re extremely flattered that she recommended us to Aronofsky. Travis was in Europe at the time so we collaborated remotely for the majority of the summer on a few different options. The movie will feature a small bit of an exclusive track that we wrote specifically for the film, using parts from Swan Lake and vocal track by Body Language’s Angelica Bess.

When we spoke over the summer, you were reluctant to let too much slip about your upcoming European tour. Can you share any more specifics?

We’re heading over to Europe from December 9th to 19th! We’ll be over there on a short Hotflush tour alongside Scuba and other Hotflush family. Can’t really say much more than that at the moment but we’ve got some really great shows lining up.

Interview

The best I can tell, you started DJing in 1996 and your first record came out in 2005. I’m curious when during the intervening years you started doing production and when you decided to release your music?

Hakim Murphy: I started working on my productions with Fast Eddie. He had an MPC and a keyboard, and he taught me how to use them. Then I bought an MPC and practiced for a long time; it took me until 2005 to get good enough to put out a record.

But you actually started in ‘96?

Yeah.

I imagine, then, you’re pretty strict on quality control — you weren’t about to just release anything.

I won’t release just anything, but usually when I make something I want to release it these days. I’ve got some old tracks I might release some day. Maybe I’d rework it now, add a little bit more to it. Either way I’d add more — it’s always missing something. Now I’ve got the skills to make it fuller.

What told you in 2005 that you were ready to start releasing stuff?

Well when I started making tracks that, subconsciously, I started repeating in my head, that’s when I knew. That’s actually my test to see if something’s good or not. If something’s looping in my head subconsciously, that’s something I like.

You’ve been making music for years now but it seems that in the last 12 months or so your profile has blown up a bit. What’s that been like for you?

I don’t really see a difference. I just do what I do, I do it for fun. I want to get to Europe some day to play, but apparently I’m going to have to pay for it myself. Once I get over there I can play parties, but getting over there…. Anyway, that’s something I’m looking forward to.

You’ve listed hip-hop, R&B and jazz among your influences, but many of your tracks tend to be a bit more spare, a bit more linear, more austere. How do those other musical styles inform the way you write your tracks?

The first things I used to DJ were ghetto house tracks, and those have always been more minimal. One day when I was a freshman this dude gave me a tape of Cajmere, Larry Heard and stuff, and it was like all that put into one [mix] with ghetto tracks like by DJ Funk. That was more like the tracks I was making at first. And later, when I went to school, I started learning how to play chords. So basically I do a little chord progression usually, using jazz principles — it’s all subtle. It’s also in the movement of the drums, it’s subtle and almost subliminal how it moves forward.

So we won’t find any big vocals or MCs over your stuff any time soon.

Nah; maybe one day, but not now. I need to get my studio better before I start recording people.

What’s your studio like now?

My studio today is Reason and Cubase together, and then I mix it down and add a VST or my Korg Prophecy. I also have a Roland SB-60 and an MPC, but I don’t use those as much. I had a Micro Korg for a while but that was my friend’s, so I made a couple tracks with that. But usually the two softwares and then I add one or two hardwares, which are gonna expand my sound.

What would you most want to add to your set-up?

I would probably get a better sound card with at least four ins and outs, and probably a MIDI box and a mixing board so I could record two things simultaneously.

I know you’re a big fan of anime, and I wondered if the visuals and soundtracks of those films ever inspires your own productions?

Maybe not the soundtracks but definitely the visuals. I like the Japanese style of stories, they’re very thought provoking. Usually when I start something I think about a concept, so after reading a Naruto comic or watching a cartoon, it makes an emotional feeling for me. I guess I’ve gotten more sensitive over the years to different things. For instance, the last few tracks I’ve made have been like, happy chords and all nice sounding. But now I think I’m going to change that and make some more grimy stuff.

Outside of music and media, what inspires the moods and movements in your music?

Relationships. How I feel. Working as a librarian is cool so I usually have good feelings, so that’s good. But I’ve been in a rut for the last four months with music, so just now I got back into making music. My sound card was broken and I was all pissed off and sad, and I didn’t do too much. It came back and now I’m back to doing like four or five tracks. It usually goes in spurts of like four or five tracks a month and then I won’t do anything for like two months. So yeah, I think it’s just my relationships, so whatever else is going on in my life.

In addition to being a librarian you run both the Synapsis Records and Machining Dreams labels. Does the librarian mindset of archiving the past and documenting what’s going on around you, if that ever plays into how you run your labels?

Being a librarian helps me organize everything in general. I organize all my Reason folders if I need to find something. So that’s one thing about my librarianship. But as far as the concept of the labels, Synapsis was me and Inbum Cho, and one day we decided we were going to do a record. Because I worked at Groove, we had distribution. So we put the money together and we did it and moved forward from there.

Is the label still a joint effort now?

Well, I kind of took it over. Synapsis was me and Inbum, and he does the artwork for most of them. Machining Dreams is just me. We work together, though.

What’s the difference between the two for you, besides how they started?

Yeah. They’re both for whatever, but Synapsis has more colorful and professional artwork. Machining Dreams is underground, hand stamped. Sometimes you might know who it is, you might not and have to go on the Internet to find out. I tried promoting it but that’s what it is — one of the underground labels you might discover one day.

How did you meet Inbum?

That’s a good question. I always forget. It was in the ’90s. When I started DJing there saw this guy named Flip who said, ‘You should meet my friend, Inbum. He’s totally underground, you would dig it.’ One day I went to a party he was throwing on Milwaukee at a place called the Big Horse Lounge, which had a Mexican place in the front and they used to throw parties in the back. So that’s how we met, and then I started going over to his house and listening to music — I give him music, he gives me music, playing records and making mixes at his house. He gave me some tracks a long, long time ago. The first thing he did was on a Mark Farina compilation, so that’s how he got, not his start in making music but his start being out there.

People have a fairly specific set of sounds in mind when they think of Chicago house. Growing up with access to the Chicago scene it’s inevitable that you’ve been influenced by Chicago house. Do you think much about how much you want to feature that in your own music?

I just do what I want to do. It’s like, everyone started out making jacking tracks, usually, but then all of a sudden they start changing into Afro-Carribbean or Latin jazz. All that was there, you had from disco to house, everything. So anything you can make — basically if you from Chicago and you making music, then you making Chicago music. That’s how I feel about it.

What helps you to get out of creative ruts?

Usually I can make acid tracks like all day, but what I do with Reason is switch up the instrument combinations I use and I’ll start something different. Usually I play a chord progression, lay down a bass line, and then I do drums. Sometimes I’ll build a drum loop first, live, and then I go back and edit, but lately I place the instruments out first. That helps, that switches it up. Plus if I add the Korg ER1, the synth, that will be a different sound, too. Using the outboard gear into the software, it will definitely change up your sound. Or, I don’t use Ableton Live, I just learned how to use it the other day, but you make a track in Reason, then next time making a track in Logic, then next time making a track in Live. That way you won’t get burnt out and your sound will vary because the machines do.

What’s coming up from you and from your labels?

Right now I’ve got Franco Cangelli’s Embrace EP, that’s coming out. And once I get back the money from those two, the two Machining Dreams releases, I’ll start with Absolute Music Technology, that’s Steven Tang who just had a record on Aesthetic Audio. And then it’s going to be me or one of my friends on Machining Dreams. On Synapsis, a whole release from Avondale Music Society and maybe a release from me.

How did you start making music as individuals, and how and when did Kettenkarussell begin? Were there any specific influences that served as catalysts?

Kettenkarussell: We met in school and were hanging out with other friends in the free periods, experimenting with different things. Usually Thursday between the 6th and the 10th period we got wasted before the sport lesson began. We always liked everything with a certain spirit, no matter what it is. If you want some names: Helge Schneider, Murcof, At The Drive In, Jan Jelinek, Mclusky, Ricardo Villalobos and Luciano, Radiohead, The (early) Blood Brothers, Vincent Gallo, Tortoise, Sector 16, Prince of Denmark, David Lynch, Cedric, Ninja Tunes, Warp, and Stone Throw Records.

Is there any special meaning behind the name? Why “chain carousel”?

Riding a chain carousel is a nice experience.

I assume the live performance is a priority for you, as there are a few Kettenkarussell sets floating around right now. What do the sets consist of? For me, there’s an inherent looseness, but also a very structured trajectory; I was wondering how much jamming is going on; how much do the tracks change from set to set?

We would like to be a band, and yes if everything feels right, playing live is the moment where everything comes together and suddenly makes sense. In the live set we try to combine all kinds of sketches. It’s never arranged; sometimes we do a kind of set list, but mostly we react onto each others vibrations. In the past this was much easier, because of the rookiness, but this is still the approach.

Do you make a distinction between the material you perform live and the material you release?

In every set there are new tracks, so it’s always changing. That’s why we hardly play songs that we finished. We like to surprise ourselves all the time, stay excited and come up with something new.

When you work on tracks for releases, do they evolve out of a larger jam session, or do you specifically set out to make something for a record?

We try to finish the songs that touched us the most during a live set and than find other tracks that could fit into the context of an EP.

Is there additional gear on the recordings that you don’t (or can’t) use in the live setting (or vice versa)?

No, the live setup is the same we got at home. Often we do music while traveling or even just before the gig, using the excitement and nervousness to not piss our pants.

Can you give a little bit of background on the live set you’ve provided for Little White Earbuds?

It’s a part of a live set from the Fusion Festival 2010. Over the years this Festival had a huge influence on our music and the way we play live. That somehow was the place where the Kettenkarussell was born.

Obviously you’re not holed up in a bunker somewhere, but you do use pseudonyms and your persona is perhaps a bit murky. Is anonymity important to you?

Yes, it’s one part of our personality, also musically. If we would make music under our real names, it would be different. In our opinion techno should be faceless and not about names or persona, or some nice pants.

What’s the role of minimalism in the project? Is there a certain point where you decide enough elements are involved? Is that use of restraint reactionary? It often feels like a respite from a lot of loud and overloaded contemporary material.

We were influenced during a time when it was more common to play really reduced and kind of low music all night long. We got stuck on this in a positive way.

What’s next for the project?

In September we are playing at The Oe Festival in Denmark and Alpha-ville Festival in London. And we are preparing for changing times, in a lot of senses.

You launched Planet E very early in your career. You were already finding success on labels like Fragile and Transmat. What was the reason for starting your own label?

Carl Craig: Well I already had Retroactive Records before Planet E, but I had a partner in the label and it got to the point where I just didn’t want anyone else having any say in my music. Some artists like to be affirmed by other people’s thoughts about what their music is supposed to be, but I already had a clear idea about what I wanted my music to be so I didn’t need anyone else telling me what needed to be changed or altered because I already felt strong about what I was doing, so I started Planet E.

What was your vision when you started Planet E and has that changed at all over the years?

The vision was for it to be this futuristic music that was kind of in line with the current trend at the time of electronic music coming out, but also a little bit in front of it. Also free-form, too, so it wouldn’t be like — since 808 State had put out Pacific State, that every record we made would sound like Pacific State, you know? Like with 69, it wasn’t necessarily in line with anything directly, it was just part of the overall movement that was happening, but it went on to some other shit. It took influences from what Shut Up and Dance were doing, it took influences from what I was already doing and had been influenced by and threw it all into a melting pot. That was how things like “Bug In The Bassbin” happened and Piece’s “Free Your Mind” and “Free Your Soul” happened. All these kinds of different music that were all pushing forward in a very futuristic direction and not being contained by any walls or this concept of what electronic music or techno should be. It was kind of like rolling the dice in terms of what we’d release next. Whereas you had like Strictly Rhythm saying like, ‘Okay we need a hit for our next record, we’ll release a Masters At Work, or Roger Sanchez, we gotta have a Roger Sanchez record,’ We were more like, ‘Okay Kirk Degiorgio is my boy, he’s got this track from his label, let’s do it.’ It was a friendly thing and because we liked what people did and because it was forward and interesting.

After twenty years of running the same label how do you keep something as prone to trends like an electronic record label fresh?

I think now it’s more important for us to pay attention to our clientèle, because before I was kind of this rogue musician just doing whatever I wanted to do. And listening to our clientèle now, they’re screaming for the rogue musician. [laughs] You know, I still put out music that I like and that I find interesting but because record sales are so low we’re all fighting for the same shit. It’s not like if Aphex Twin releases a record and 15,000-20,000 people buy it, and now you get the new version of Aphex Twin come out and he’s relegated to 500 copies. You know it’s not the same times any more, so you have a lot of labels doing whatever it takes to sell their product. But you know if you’re selling like 500 copies in comparison to being able to sell like, 20,000, then fuck what everybody else is doing because 500 copies ain’t shit, so let’s just put out music that’s fresh and interesting and of the next variety. So May was our Detroit music month and we released Detroit records; you had the Kenny Larkin release; you had the Reference release, you had Urban Tribe and The Oliverwho Factory. And that was a statement that needed to be made, that we make music and we support music from Detroit.

You’ve always looked much further afield than just Detroit or America too.

Yeah, I mean, it’s basically just the stuff that I like. There’s only been the odd, very rare occasion that we’ve released something that I haven’t really been supportive of. Everything comes by me and needs to be something that pleases my ears and falls in line with the label, or something that other people just need to hear.

Artists can build an image of themselves for the public and likewise the public build one up of the artist over time. How did you want to be seen when you were starting out?

I didn’t really have the concept of what people were supposed to imagine. It’s not like I wanted people to see me as the Warhol of techno music or anything. It wasn’t until later anyway that I discovered Miles Davis that some aspects of my artistic character came out a bit more in relation to that. The first step was just to make this music.

One of the things that Planet E has done recently is start distributing some other Detroit labels. What was the reason behind this?

It was more a support thing. DJ Deep and I were talking and this was about the time I had finished mixing the Etienne Jaumet record and he had this Kerri Chandler record and he was telling me that the pre-sales were really low. I just thought, this is Kerri Chandler, that’s kind of bullshit. Why aren’t more copies being pressed, people love this guy. So I just told him, look man I think this should be doing more than it’s doing, if you want to try it on our side I can give you a hand. So he came over with the Ben Klock record and that’s where we started. We had started doing a couple of things with KMS a few years ago with the Elevate History remixes too.

What have been some of the moments of the label that have creatively been some of your moments of big growth and change?

I guess when I started putting out albums from other artists was a big growth, so when we released the Moodymann album and when we released the Recloose album, that was a big growth for us. We had a distribution deal at the time with Caroline and that was a big deal, for me at least. After we did that we found we didn’t really have the infrastructure to be able to handle big releases like that or have a distribution deal like that, so we had to refine what we were doing and pull back. Now we’re kind of pushing forward again. So it’s one of those things of doing what you have to, to stay in business. We grow but then we have to refine, or restrict, and then grow again. But I think for us by putting out other artists, that has been our biggest growth factor. I don’t mean to say this in any way that could be construed as anything else but I made the label based on my own music so it can survive just by me releasing my music, but it starts moving into other dimensions by releasing other artists.

It must be hard balancing something you are so passionate about with something that is a commercial enterprise.

Yeah, but I mean for me it’s very important to release something I believe in whether I think it will sell well or not, because for me it is about the importance of the music. Because you have a lot of labels that just put out music that is the same old same old and they kind of go out of business or fade into the background. You have labels that were dominant for a year because their sound was dominant and the next year they’re gone. With Planet E, my influences have been so many. When I was a kid I would look at labels like Warner Brothers who had Funkadelic, B52’s and their offshoots like Sire who had Talking Heads and all this kind of music that was different and was all hot. Casablanca, they had Donna Summer and Parliament, even KISS was on that label, not that I was into them. But having such a broad range of music, that’s how I wanted Planet E to be seen as well, the same way I saw these labels as a ten year old kid.

You were involved in the DEMF again this year after a very lengthy break. How was that for you?

It was good. I mean I was in there as a consultant really. I couldn’t walk in to the situation and say, ‘Hey, I’m the creative director this is how it’s going to be.’ These guys have been doing the festival for the past four years so I’m not going to walk in and push them around. I just gave them suggestions where they asked for them. I wasn’t going to be this big ego walking in after ten years and thinking I was going to run things, it just wasn’t going to happen.

But it was an enjoyable experience for you?

Yeah it was cool, I mean I got to do my thing and focus on the label without having to worry about any small, petty bullshit that can be involved in doing these things. When I did it ten years ago there were just all these things you had to deal with, so many people you have to make happy, whether it’s the artists talking shit in the background or the audience not happy with the way things are done, or maybe the contracts saying that you need a hundred red M&M’s in a clear glass fish bowl or something like that. So all that stuff I didn’t have to deal with, which was great. I mean, I’m a fucking artist as well so I don’t want to have to deal with all of that making sure someone’s back is being rubbed, I want my back rubbed. [laughs]

At the festival you presented a seminar in conjunction with the Detroit School of Arts and the Carl Craig Foundation. Tell us about the foundation.

You know everything I do now, I’ve come to realize I relate back to my teen years or as a pre-teen and how I heard music and how I was influenced, all the things I loved about being a teenager. It’s all hindsight, and I realize I can’t go back and give myself advice about how to talk to some girl, but I can help out teenagers now with some of the music stuff. Back in the second year of the festival I went back to my old high school with the help of this DJ called Magic Mike who was on the public school radio station. So I went back there with Derrick May and Kevin Saunderson because I wanted to make sure that the kids who went to the school that I went to understood that when you have a dream and you follow it you can end up being wherever you want to be. And I was in this situation at the time where I was very happy with what I’d done with being able to travel the world and do my music. And for them to also see Derrick and Kevin and see what we’d been able to do and the different sides of the music industry, it was very new for them.

I mean in 1978 when my parents drove me across the country and I took this little orange skateboard with me, I never for a moment thought that that skateboard could be a way to end up living in mansions and driving Lamborghini’s. It would never have dawned on me, but if someone had come to my school and told me all this, it would have been a real eye-opener for me. So that’s what I want to do with the foundation, to show people that you can really make a great living out of doing something that you love doing. It’s also to show these kids that there is a lot of music outside of what they hear on the radio, because the radio is still really bad, so it’s important to let the kids know what else is out there. So with the foundation, I’m a commissioner on the Detroit Entertainment Commission along with Dr. Cotton from the Detroit School of Arts and one of the other things that I wanted to do with the foundation was to educate as well as fund raise and tie-in with other foundations. There was a viewing from “Suite For Ma Dukes,” which was the 60 piece orchestra movement that was done of all of J. Dilla’s music. So I brought Dilla’s mother in to speak to the commission about Dilla’s music, so that they would understand who he was.

We also decided to do something at the DSA where we could show the kids the professional aspects of the industry. They already have good equipment there and good teachers, but what we did was bring established engineers and studio owners and get them to talk with the kids about how they use Pro-Tools and things like that. So Derrick and Kevin came in and the Paxahau guys came, Mr. Porter who produces for Dr. Dre and Eminem and on the last day Francisco Tristano. It was really good for the kids, but equally for the people who came in, as a lot of them didn’t know about the Detroit School of Arts either.

Can you tell me about the mix? Was there a specific theme you were going for?

Daryl: It’s everything we grew up listening to. It wasn’t everything we heard, but a lot of big influences that took place in different eras in time, trying to compress it all in a small amount of time. But it wasn’t really shooting for anything particular, just taking it laid back, so to speak.
Shone: It’s more of a reflection of what influenced us doing different types of music. It’s representative of the Oliverwho Factory. You have Jimi Hendrix. Who doesn’t know about him and his musicianship? And then you have the Donna Summer vocals; she was really big in the disco era. Of course we like to display our (own work), we also like to display vocals. This mix was more to tell a story of our influences. And some of our own records to show you how you can mix our records with basically any style of music. So that’s the idea behind that mix. It’s reintroducing who the Oliverwho Factory is, telling a story about the Oliverwho Factory.

You guys are more known for your music rather than DJing. Your mix for Recloose’s Hit It and Quit It radio show from earlier this year was the first I heard from you. Do you both DJ?

D: We really don’t DJ. I haven’t DJed in years. As I told Matt [Chicoine, aka Recloose] it’s been a long, long time since I DJed. But we both pulled together some tracks that we liked and I told him that it was real rough. It was explained that we really don’t DJ.
S: And no I don’t DJ, no, not yet. Someone had suggested that I do that and I have been playing around with a few different programs. I’m always interested in learning things, especially the DJ aspect. I think that’s exciting. I think that if the opportunity presented itself, I would go for it. Daryl is not giving himself enough credit. He has the capability, believe me he does, but I don’t know that he’s focusing on it right now but he could do it.
D: What Shone didn’t tell us is “look out.” Because when she gets into it she’s gonna get into it.
S: If you’re going to do it. Do it.

Which DJs do you look up to?

D: There’s a lot. I recall when Shone and me went to an after party and Theo Parrish had thrown a party at a Loft. It was like raw, lots of percussion, totally deep house. From that point on it stuck.
S: I like Fabrice Lig too. He is really, really intense. We had an opportunity to see him when he came here to Detroit five years ago and he was really good. His interactions… I always focus on how the DJ interacts with the audience and I could see the way he was interacting. He was very approachable. I think that compliments a DJ. I know that you have to focus on your art, your craft, but just as he was having a good time, it made us have even more fun. And the selection of music. Also Derrick May, I like the way he works up a sweat. He works hard.
D: He makes me tired. But he sure works it.

Your productions have a gritty texture to them. Why is that grit important to you and is it a reaction to the cleaner pop of the Oliverwho? days?

D: I would say that’s probably 25% of it. Another 75% is… we were listening to old music, the way it was.
A: Exactly. If you listen to the early records that came out during the old Motown days you can actually hear the crackling. You know, the needle on the record. That’s what we were trying to capture with our music as well. And the fact that it is underground music. If it was cool and crisp people would say that it’s too commercial sounding.
D: Some have actually alluded to that on some of our records. It was almost frowned upon when the production got a little cleaner.
A: We just wanted to show people we knew what we were doing, that we could make a record sound clean. There were a lot of people that didn’t understand at first. It was muddy, but they didn’t understand that was what we were really shooting for. It gives it a warmer feel too.
D: I don’t know if you grew up listening to the Beatles. But a lot of their stuff was cut on four and eight track tapes, yet they were the biggest records ever made. Not really how clean the song sounds, if the song is a good song… We were more or less going for a feel. Not trying to keep up with a certain sound. It was more or less to create a certain feel…
S: A back in the day feel.
D: That wasn’t being presented at the moment.

That’s an easy thing to associate with, especially with house records that use vocals; they can take on a commercial feel. It seems like that’s a good way to keep you from falling into that trap.

S: That’s really the way we look at it. When you do hear house music with vocals, some people tend to commercialize it. For me when vocals are placed in the right area, it doesn’t have to be a lot, but it adds more impact and more soul. I just think that is how we approach each record, soulfully.

I hear a lot of jazz in your records too. Not overtly, necessarily, but using different instrumentation and phrasing.

D: Jazz is something that surprisingly left Detroit but jazz is something that never really goes away. Before jazz did leave, it went from a real vintage jazz to a more of a pop jazz, they started calling R&B tracks jazz.

Smooth jazz they call it.

D: Yeah. In Detroit we had a real jazz station, it was JZZ. That’s when you heard a lot of the real, pure jazz. At that time in my life that was one of the things influencing me and it stuck with me.

“Night Lights” recently came out on Planet E, your first release on a label outside your own. Did you feel any pressure to clean up the sound of the tracks for that release?

D: No comment. [laughs] When we wrote “Night Lights” we said to ourselves this is a different track than what we’ve ever done. It just so happened things were getting set up with Planet E unbeknown to us and this turned out to be the perfect track, for Planet E more so than us. It was almost a more mature sound for us. It is still maintaining our sound and with his remix Carl took it to a different level.
S: I think it has a broader appeal in certain aspects. People who knew us from the beginning may feel a little hesitant about it because it is cleaner. But by the same token Carl’s label reaches a broader audience leaning more towards that style than “U Don’t Know.” Not to say we did it for that reason, because what we do is what we’re feeling at that time. It’s a good thing. We’re willing to open up and explore our options. Nothing wrong with that.
D: When we saw the track and heard the outcome it was like. ‘Yeah, it’s Planet E meets Oliverwho Factory’” We met somewhere in the middle.

Do you have any plans to release on other labels or do any further remixes?

D: There are some things in the works but until they are finalized… we will bring out at that point.
S: We’re going to do some remixes. I’m going to be contacting some people. [laughs]
D: Do you know Lerosa? He’s been into some reggae lately and Shone has done some vocals with him.
S: I like all the tracks, one of which is featured in the mix. It was a wonderful experience working with him. He’s real passionate; he does it for the love of music. And Daryl actually did some vocals as well. Look for that, they are some hot tracks.

Daryl, looking back at the time when you were on BMG, do you see that as a necessary step to get you where you are as an artist today?

D: I don’t necessarily wish it didn’t happen because we all learn from our mistakes and experiences. At the same time I don’t think it was something that was necessary for what’s happening now to happen. It was something that happened and I said that’s just something we won’t do anymore and decided to take a left turn somewhere.

No regrets then?
D: No, I really don’t look back. You go through it and you find out that they don’t know what they want to do. You could practically run the label yourself and do a better job. That’s why I don’t look back because I get upset about it.

You guys keep such a low profile, no Facebook, Myspace, and your website is under construction. How are people supposed to find out about you and stay connected to your music? Is being underground the primary goal?
D: That was the first thing, keeping it underground. Usually when our web page is active that’s when most of the audience knows something is about to happen. And that creates a buzz in itself.
S: I had actually started a Facebook page but I took it down because I’m somewhat of a perfectionist and I didn’t think the way I did it was completely right. As far as the website is concerned I’m looking into having someone design it for us because I want that to be right as well. I really want to connect with people who are supportive of our music.
D: Shortly after Tama Sumo presented her Panorama Bar mix, we thought maybe because it was so hard for her to get a hold of us we decided that we should treat the site like a company would treat a site and not so underground. It’s starting to grow and we need to conform to a degree to the point where you feel comfortable. That’s what we’re in the process of doing. It doesn’t mean we won’t be underground, but we will be more accessible.

What’s one house or techno record that has inspired you in some way and when do you remember first hearing it?

S: I can say Lil’ Louis, “Club Lonely.” I remember hearing that at the Warehouse club in St. Albans. We both used to hang out there. In the Riverfront, that’s where they used to throw a lot of house parties there. Also, “Break for Love” by Raze and “Can You Feel It” by Mr. Fingers, the instrumental version.
D: Yeah.
S: What about Soul Night at the State Theatre?
D/S: Oh yeah [in unison].
D: They had this club night called Soul Night on Tuesdays. This was back in the ’90s when you used to club during the week. It got so out of hand that you would go out not only on Thursday and Sunday but Tuesday. And then they had one club downtown in Greektown called Mickey’s. Those were the good days I guess. People were out partying in the middle of the week until 3 am.
S: Dancing for house music.
D: Knowing they got to get up the next morning and go to work.

Daryl, were those some of your picks as well?

D: I remember those, but nothing really stood out in terms of individual songs. It was the whole atmosphere, the whole club. It was totally different than going to a cabaret, or a concert. It was more of a feel free vibe. I was just going to say we had fun in Hamtramck. The Motor Lounge.
S: That’s that techno place.
D: I liken it to techno, probably techno more so than house unfortunately, I hate to say it that way. But I liken techno to jazz, and classical. Because you get more of a variety, you have more people that appreciate the actual music than cliques.
S: I think what Daryl is saying as far as house music, it’s so scarce. Me, I would listen to the music but you could see there were groups of people, cliques. They would call themselves the preps or something. And Daryl has always been an individual and that’s why he shied away. I’m speaking for him. Techno is more free.
D: I don’t see any cliques with techno. I don’t see just one crowd listening to techno. I don’t see one age bracket. It’s all over. I don’t see one culture. I see everything, I see everybody listening to techno.
A: At least that’s what we see here. It could be different somewhere else, but I’ve also been to Chicago house parties and clubs and seen it happening there.

I hadn’t thought about that, but I think that is where you can get back into that commercial versus underground conflict. House becomes the commercial and techno is underground in that equation.

S: Exactly. That’s what really prompted us to do the things we do. Because here’s the house and the techno, we love both sounds. We’re trying to combine that, not just on the musical level but also the audience that listens to it as well.

Your music has a certain depth and complexity that seems like it would translate well to the album format. Might we see an album from the Oliverwho Factory at some point in the future?

S: We never limit our options. That is always a possibility, because we have tons of songs we still have. Who’s to say it’s not something we could look into?
D: It’s interesting because Matt [Recloose] mentioned the same thing when he was here last. He asked if we were going to do a compilation or an album. It just sounded kind of weird to me, because you see it every now and then, but from the heavyweights. The guys who’ve done, who have been doing it for years. But other than that it’s like… I never really thought about it to that degree, but if it works within certain plans then why not.

It would be good to hear what you guys had in terms of a full album spectrum and exploring some non-dance floor sounds.

S: That reminds me of that one group Minnie Ripperton was in, back in the ’70’s [Rotary Connection]. Really soulful funk.
D: She was with a group; it was like a project, an experiment. And she was with the group before she went solo. She was actually the secretary for this label and they heard her singing and they asked her to be in the group. The group didn’t last long obviously because the label wanted new music. But the group was bad.
S: They were ahead of their time.
D: It was a situation where the politics came into play.
S: And people shied away.
D: We’ll definitely keep that in mind. You said something interesting. You said “it would be nice hear some non-dance.” Because I envisioned some things.
S: That was one of the things we were talking to you about in the first interview with you, with the one division of Madd Chaise. We’re still branching out. It’s just that the techno, house, electronic side is accelerating a little faster than what we thought so we don’t have as much time to devote to the other side of Madd Chaise. But we do have some songs that we have done and a few people that we have worked with that we want to put out. But again since this is more in demand right now we have to follow the techno-house side and keep grooving with that.

Mathias Kaden said in an interview that he’s seen you DJ multiple times and that you vary greatly from set to set. What sound were you representing on your LWE podcast mix? Is it fairly similar to what you would play at a club gig?

Nico Purman: The sound of the this podcast is deep at the beginning, more house, funk/disco and some deep techno at the end. At a club sometimes it’s different because it really depends at what time you play, and if the club is big or small. I really prefer to make things deeper where the people enjoy more the music in itself, than to overexcite the crowd with banging beats and noises. I play some old tracks mixed with new; I like to share feelings, emotions, and influences at the same time.

What was your local Argentinean dance music scene like as you were growing into being a producer? What was it like when you left for Berlin?

The scene in Argentina is not as in Europe, of course, but there are a lot of talented artists and DJ friends who are doing a great job. Some are following the ones who had success and try to copy the formula, and some are really creative people who don’t go with the flow, and this is interesting. But about the club scene, there are big clubs that spends thousand of euros on commercial acts and the trance scene was really big, so there are not too many options for the good music. There’s some small clubs that are trying for years to keep the underground alive and they’re doing a great job, like Cocoliche in Buenos Aires or any other small venue that tries to focus the party on the music.

From what I’ve read you were introduced to Belgian New Beat and Chicago acid house more or less as it was happening. How did you get ahold of these imported records in Argentina? What was that like for your young mind? Hearing them, did you know you wanted to make music like that at some point?

I used to go to a record store in the city I lived, Rosario, and they brought white labels compilations with this music, the pirate vinyl. It was made by DJs who had the original vinyls and pressed vinyl compilations with four tracks — it was dance music at 110 bpm and all the people liked in the clubs. I used to go to some clubs with my brother and we knew all the tracks and loved the music when we were kids. And then I ordered
some records from someone who traveled a lot — he worked for an airline, and he brought me some good stuff.

I understand you were a drummer in rock groups. Did you start out DJing or drumming? At what point did you begin producing your own music?

First of all I started djing, then learned drums and when I stopped playing drums I decided to buy some stuff to produce my own music. In 2003 I bought my first computer, a synth and a drum machine, plus Logic 5, and I started making my first experiences with it.

How have your years of experience as a drummer influenced your production process? That is, do you work on drums first and build from there or do you mostly work out the overall rhythmic structure, or…?

I think it’s important to know about rhythm when you try to emulate some acoustic percussion — drums needs to have a naturalness about them. I don’t like quantized percussion by a robot. I don’t have any structure, I can start with drums, or a melody from the synth, or a bass, or some other atmospheric sound that trips me. But I think it’s more a question of how I feel the music: I don’t think too much, I just feel.

Do you ever miss getting behind the drum kit? Have you had the desire or opportunity to record live drums for any of your tracks?

I really miss it, but its impossible to have real drums in my studio now, my neighboors would kill me. But some electronic drums could do the job as well. I didn’t play real live drums for my own tracks yet, but all the drums in my tracks are played by me, with the midi keyboard, with my sounds loaded in the sampler. I arrange every part of the drum kit or percussion in different channels. I used some percussion stuff from Brazil in my last productions, like pandeiros, handmade shakers and other different instruments made by the Amazon Indians, they’re made with materials they found in the forest. Just to add a color to the music, or add
some details. I don’t use drums loops or any sampled percussion loops. It would be really easy to sample the best drummers and the best conga players from CDs but I don’t like to do it, so I prefer to use the ideas I have in my head.

Personally I don’t hear many sonic references to Argentinian culture in your music. Is this a conscious thing or is it just much more subtle than most non-Argentinians would notice?

I don’t think my music represents the music of my country, but I’m really influenced by modern tango (like Astor Piazzolla) and the melancholic melodies. I think my first releases like “Lunatique,” for example, has some sort of tango/piazzolla feeling in the synth melody which sounds like a Bandoneon to me.

Listening over your tracks I get the impression that over time you’ve sort of lightened up musically and favored swinging house tracks over the more serious tech-house sound of your earlier work (eg. from “Desiree” to “All That Glitters Ain’t Gold”). Have your production tastes changed much in the last few years? Are you working with different moods/goals in mind when producing these days?

The thing is, I make music for periods of time, and I start doing what I feel in the moment. It could be ambient, dub, pop, house, and then later I open these projects and see what is more suitable to release.

What is one instrument, trick or method you’ve always wanted to use in a track that you’ve not yet attempted?

There are lots of instruments I really like, but it really depends on how is it played or the character of the sound. But I’m not a multi-instrumental player, so I start with a sound in my head and try to design the sound, and it never sounds exactly as I imagined but close to it, and sometimes it turns into another sound. I would like one day for Prince to come down an angel and play some guitars and vocals. Miles Davis and Hendrix are invited as well.

After shuffling between a varied group of labels (like Mule Electronic, Modelisme, and Crosstown Rebels) it seems you’ve mostly settled down with Vakant. What was your reasoning behind this decision? What do you like most about the Vakant group?

It all started in late 2007 when I sent a demo to Alex from Vakant and he instantly replied that he would like to release it. And then invited me to play at Watergate where I met him. We became friends, he helped me to find a booker, and then to move to Berlin. What I like about the Vakant group is that every artist has his own style and personality, but at the same time I’m feeling inspired by all these artists, too.

What’s coming up from you in the rest of 2010?

There’s one track coming out on a Vakant compilation which is new and really different, but in the vein of “All That Glitters Ain’t Gold,” and couple of more EPs not only on Vakant. And DJ gigs, of course!

How was this mix conceived? Is it a pretty good example of what we’d get from you in the club?

Andre Lodemann: Yes, it does cover a broader sound spectrum similar to my club sets. Here I move from soulful deep house to more minimal tech-house. My 90’s house background is a bit obvious sometimes. I have a preference for long mixes from one record to the next. The whole session is recorded from vinyl. I’m still addicted.

As this mix makes clear, you’ve obviously got love for vocal cuts. What makes a great house music vocal?

It’s not necessarily the vocal, it is more the perfect combination with an instrumental that makes a perfect vocal cut. Of course there are exceptions to the rule. While I was working on the remix for Tracey Thorn’s “Why Does the Wind?” I was thinking, ‘This voice can go with any instrumental.’ Another singer whose voice does the same job for me and has always impressed me is the Latina singer India, who many might know for her work with Louie Vega and nowadays for contemporary Latin music.

You came up in the German Democratic Republic. Can you describe the East German techno scene before the Wall fell? What changed after reunification?

I think there is some misunderstanding here. The scene started after the wall fell, at least where I grew up in a small provincial town on the border with Poland. The first electronic music scenes in my area were EBM and hip-hop.

Your first electronic music love was trance, and you can hear that plenty in the expansiveness of your current sound. Do you still listen to any of it? Is trance ripe for having its good name rehabilitated?

No, not really. Trance was one of the first music styles I had access to in the 90’s. The open floating spaces in the music always impressed me. They were an escape from reality for me. I haven’t heard any trance music since those days except for modern ambient music such as Aphex Twin or Biosphere. I don’t know anything about trance today as house music is my musical home now. For this reason I am unable to comment on contemporary trance.

You hint in your bio at the influence soul, funk, and rap had on the evolution of your sound. Are you still enthralled by them, and do they ever pop up Koze-style in your DJ sets?

I actually play a straight house set, though these are musical influences on my production work. For home listening they are still on my decks.

Your home base of Berlin is better known for pulverizing techno than the kind of spacey, silky deep house you’ve been making. How is your music received there, and where outside of Berlin have people really been going nuts for it?

Since the last two years house music has gained a lot of fans in Berlin. If you check out the bookings at clubs such as Panorama Bar, Watergate, or Weekend you would be surprised who is playing there these days. In the last years people like my label partner Daniel W. Best worked on bringing back that house-vibe. He has been running the old-school house night, Washing Machine, in Berlin for over eight years now together with Dixon (Innervisions), Cle’ (Martini Bros), and Terrible. He also ran the legendary Innercity Nights at Weekend with Dixon as the resident DJ. People are more open-minded towards house music these days. I also think that house music has become universally eclectic for all influences — I would call it “house fusion.” For many it takes a second listen to realize the depth and spirit of my production. I believe in taking the listener on a musical trip. It is somewhat advanced. Funny enough South Africa has been showing me a lot of love on my websites but the U.K. and U.S. have been great too. In Germany it is a bit slower.

You’re picking up steam as a producer, but you’re a long-time DJ as well. Do you see yourself primarily as a producer or as a DJ?

Both equally, of course. I love to DJ and see the people move to my music, and at the same time I often try to imagine a packed floor while producing in my home-studio.

Talk to us about your studio. What are the secret ingredients to all those lush sounds?

Oh that’s real secret… just joking. My sound is a combination of different musical processes. One of them is morphing samples through heavy effect-usage into totally new sounds. Most of my work is software based. And not to forget my mixing engineer, Jürgen Schulz, who always knows how to translate my musical language into a perfect mix-down. Props! Thank you, Jürgen.

What dance music do you love right now? And are you listening to anything outside its confines?

Dance music for me is house and soul. Besides that I really like indie rock and experimental electronic music.

What’s next for your label (with Daniel Best) Best Works? And what should we watch out for from you in the coming months?

My next release is The Light EP on Best Works Records which is out June 21st. Also as I mentioned before, my remix for Tracey Thorn is coming out on Buzzin Fly in June. New Lodemann tracks will be coming up on Dessous Recordings, Freerange Records, and Room With A View.

Interview

How were you introduced to electronic music? I understand you are the son of a DJ. Besides the obvious, how has this impacted the sort of DJ you are?

Matthew Styles: I don’t really remember a time without some kind of dance music being around. Even with my dad and his friends being involved it’s always been around me. Then it was all very different from how it is now, the whole scene for clubs and DJs has been passed numerous revolutions since then. Essentially though, one thing stays the same: entertaining people, breaking new music, playing some classics. Sound-wise though, when I was in my mid-teens, I met this guy Rene through a friend, he was a DJ and record dealer. I used to buy a LOT of records from him; he had connections in the States and he introduced me to this deep U.S. sound: Ron Trent & Chez Damier, Kerri Chandler, Nu-Groove, MAW, Emotive, Tony Humphries, MK, Claude Young, Jovonn and Easystreet, you know, all the deep stuff like this. Heavy tracks as he would say. This had the most profound influence on me musically I had ever experienced. I never heard anything like that before. Rene and I became very good friends; I had my first gigs with him when I was still quite young, not even 17. From that, I managed to get my first residency with these guys’ organising parties in the south west of the U.K. a year or so later. Luckily I still can play a lot of the tracks I bought back then.

What made you take the leap from DJing to producing?

I’m not sure it was really a leap; it was a very slow process for me. Back then, about ‘97, Luke Solomon had just started Classic and my best friend from school (Lil Mark), who knew Luke and Derrick Carter quite well, had just been to Chicago to hang out for a few months with Derrick. He came back with some gear and was making tracks; we were jamming a bit and eventually I wanted to have a go on my own. I bought an Akai MPC after receiving some advice and started to work on a bit of stuff. Lil Mark and Rob Mello helped me a lot with that. I made some remixes and some edits which came out, but I really wasn’t so happy with the results. So I carried on working on it for a long time, I was never really satisfied with the outcome for whatever reason. This had been going on for a while and I have to thank Dinky and the Diamonds & Pearls guys — they were the ones who pushed me to release the first singles, otherwise I’d still be sitting on those tracks now.

One element that’s always stood out in your productions is the bass line. Where did all this love for the bass come from and why is it important in your own tracks?

I think a lot of the music I have always listened too and played has good bass. Maybe it’s a thing being from the Westcountry, Bristol sound and all that. As you know it’s very important for dance music, even perhaps more so for girls than for boys. One of the reasons it took so long to release music was that I knew what I wanted but had to find a way to get there. I need the bass to be strong and with funk, kind of like that old U.S. house sound. Now these days the sound is not so bass heavy, too much limiting going on. I have always used the same mastering engineer, Chris Potter, who works at Peacefrog’s mastering studio in London — Electric Mastering. He knows I want quite a specific sound and so we always work towards that, not to smash the mix with the limiters, full bass and crispy tops.

By my count you haven’t put out an original release under your own name since 2008. What’s the story behind that? Are there more coming?

There is more stuff coming, not sure when though! A lot of friends are asking for remixes at the moment, which is quite nice as it lets me try some ideas out. After the first singles came out I moved to Berlin, and it seemed there was an expectation that after “We Said Nothing” I would bang stuff out, but I’m not like that. Firstly, I hadn’t found a room for the studio that I was really happy with until now, as it needs to be a cocoon from the outside world. The spaces I’ve had so far were not like that. Luckily we just found that space now: it’s amazing, really, a dream come true! Dinky and I will share the space, and we have a lot of other friends and great producers in the same building, so it’s like a community, with Tobias Freund and Max Loderbauer from NSI, Pier Bucci, Cassy, Argenis Brito and a few others. I am still amazed that we have it. So now I just started to work in there and feel very inspired by it.

In the meantime you have been collaborating quite a bit, doing remixes, and releasing as Worst Case Scenario. Why the shift in this direction?

It’s always fun to collaborate; you get a different perspective, it’s somehow a bit more relaxed, and you don’t have to make all the decisions on your own. With Worst Case Scenario it’s a project with my good friend Ed Cartwright. He didn’t make any music before, but has an amazing knowledge of music and we always have a laugh when doing stuff, which is good because you end up with a positive vibe.

I’m curious what your collaborators — like Tobi Neumann and Pier Bucci — bring to the table individually that you really like for your productions?

Again, its all about having fun with friends, jamming, swapping ideas. I mean, Tobi and Pier work in totally different ways and are quite different people, so that always interesting for me. I did some stuff with Dinky too, also Sven Von Thülen from Zander VT, and Jorge González from Los Updates. In the end if you release something and people buy it that’s really great, but spending time with people you like to be with having fun, doing something that you enjoy, that’s the point for me.

What is your role in Crosstown Rebels and Horizontal? How does being a behind the scenes person affect your outlook on the dance music landscape or club culture?

I finished at Crosstown a few years ago now. I had run with it as much as I could, I had a great time, but you know we had so many distributors going under, in the end I ended up stressed out. I wasn’t really doing anything for myself anymore, so I needed to break from that and develop some things. With Horizontal, Dinky and I take it much slower — there is no pressure. If we wanted to ramp it up, we both could I guess, but right now we just want it to be about having a good time releasing music we like from ourselves or friends. I’ve been working in music business for a few years now across the board, for distributors, records stores, labels, clubs as well as making and releasing music. You see how things work and my perspective certainly isn’t as idealistic as it used to be. Although I do believe most people are in it because they love it, whether that’s commercial or underground, vinyl or digital, whatever, there is no right or wrong. If floats your boat, it’s fine. I still like a good idea, a good sound, and a good time.

What has the move to Berlin been like for you? What opportunities has it opened for you?

It’s given me a chance to relax; I have such a good time here and it’s like a small town in some ways. I had a lot of friends here since before I moved over so it was a pretty easy switch. The opportunities have been amazing, and I learned a bit of a different perspective on life which is healthy. The clubs have been very good to me here and I’ve been given the chance to play at some amazing places. The standard is so high here musically speaking, it keeps you going.

What’s next from you in 2010?

Unintentionally a bunch of remixes are coming out all the next weeks. One for Luc Ringeisen I did back in 2008 will come out finally, then one for Dinky on Horizontal, Bubba on Extended Play and then we did a Worst Case Scenario remix for Radio Slave’s last single. Other than that there will be an EP by the end of the year. Some tracks are done, but I have to work on it a bit more, although sometimes I am very indecisive!

What spurred you to launch Frozen Border?

Jeff: I don’t think we launched it, that sounds very “Show Biz.” It just began.

What about Horizontal Ground?

More of the same with a different name.

Had you run any labels before this current group?

In a sense I did run labels before, but nothing on this current level.

Do you make any of the music for FB/HG?

No.

How many artists do you work with for your labels? Is it a close knit group or a
loose collective?

At the moment it’s 6 artists and I have never met one of them in person, so I would say it’s quite a loose collective.

When you pitched your vision for a label shrouded in relative anonymity to your artists, what were their reactions? Or was it the other way around?

No pitch, they are either in or out. All the music came from demos sent. The level of trust between us all is the thing I like the most.

These days many fans want to know more and more about the artists behind their favorite records. With this in mind, why go the other direction?

I think the answer is in the question.

Is anonymity in the music business important to you?

Not at all. I don’t think the dance music scene is even the music business (not in real terms); even at it’s most revealed it’s still really a bit of “micro fluff” on the backside of the music industry. Some DJs/producers might do well to remember that.

FB/HG’s rise coincided with a renewed artistic/public interest in austere white label records. Was this coincidence or perhaps a reaction to what was happening?

Maybe; there is some sort of honesty in it, but even that has become a bit overplayed now.

With how little information is available about your labels, I imagine every decision regarding your labels is made consciously: That in mind, is there was any reasoning behind the filled in/blank letters of the Frozen Border/Horizontal Ground names? Zen Order?

I thought all the references were obvious? Karl Regis (from Downwards) took me out into the woods one day to show me where Nico was buried; it made a deep impact so it’s all in homage to her.

What else it to come from Frozen Border/Horizontal Ground in 2010?

More quality music.

That passion and commitment comes in handy when he’s teaching courses on Reaktor and Ableton Live at Detroit’s Youthville community center. It’s also resulted in some classic records, and his productions for his Deep Transportation and S Y N T H labels are basically the gold standards in twilit deep house and brooding techno. Even if we could ignore all those considerable undertakings and accomplishments, Huckaby would still be an LWE favorite for his refreshingly level-headed and thoughtful perspectives on the electronic music industry. We tried to coax a few of those out of him in the Q&A that follows, and we’re honored and thrilled to present, as LWE’s 50th podcast, an exclusive 78-minute mix from one of the crucial artists of our time.

Interview

Please tell us a little bit about your podcast for LWE. When/where it was made, and if there was any theme?

Mike Huckaby: These are just a few house classics from the vaults of Mike Huckaby. The mix was recorded in Detroit. I don’t do digital DJing, I only play vinyl. The theme was to simply play classic Mike Huckaby tracks, tracks that I will never get tired of playing. I can’t do DJ mixes with records that are relevant for 2-4 weeks. It just doesn’t make any sense to me.

Your name routinely appears in the origin stories of today’s most exciting producers, from Detroit and beyond. So I’m wondering, who or what was it that sparked your interest in making house and techno music?

Well, as I’ve said before, Ken Collier was a major influence for nearly every Detroit DJ. Making music was a natural evolution for many Detroit DJs, and this was definitely the case for me. In the beginning, I would listen to every DJ. I would listen to the ones that I liked, as well as to the ones that I didn’t like. And then one day, a bright idea went off in my head that realized everyone was a bit different that anyone else — that every DJ had his or her own style and were developing that. So I took a shot at it as a DJ, and later on as a producer. I was always a self-motivated person.

I’ll never forget back in the day when Detroit techno hit hard for the first time in the U.K. Derrick May was going to England like crazy. He came back from a recent trip, and I asked him, ‘So, how was England?’ He replied shortly, and in a rather jet-lagged tone of voice, ‘Good as usual, what else would you expect?’ He wasn’t being an asshole about it, but right there I knew that it would be in my best interest to pick up my shit and just go over there to see it for myself. And that’s just what I did. Anthony Shakir and I would share information and techniques heavily with each other. I will never forget the one day in class he said to me, “I want to make a record.” I thought he was out of his mind because that type of thing was not available to individual recording artists yet. You had to be Quincey Jones or some shit, or an artist with a rather large recording budget.

I was lucky enough to be in the loop. And if you were in the loop by any stretch of the imagination, you saw what was going on, and what gear was being used to make this type of music at Transmat, KMS, or Metroplex studios. If you were in the loop, you thought nothing of it, but it would prove to be a very privileged experience when you spoke to those who weren’t in the loop. It was priceless to see the MIDI setups that triggered “Nude Photo,” “Strings of Life,” and so many other Transmat songs, all at the tap of a button. These songs existed right in front of you, right on the floor. So that along with a personal style to develop as a DJ were the influences that started it all for me. Basically, I just had to get out of the one-EP-every-ten-years club. I couldn’t do that shit anymore. (Ask Rick Wade about Mike Huckaby working on his hi-hat patterns for six months). So if a lot of producers and DJs are feeling me, it’s because of my work ethic, my progression over the years, and the amount of dedication I have put into the art of making better music.

Did you have any musical mentors, or people who helped you figure out the process of making music?

Just because you were privileged enough to see the gear that was being used in a classic Detroit techno studio setup doesn’t mean anyone shared information with you as to how to used the gear. Furthermore, the techniques used for creating sounds was also a mystery. There were no Ableton or Reaktor classes, workshops, or Youtube tutorials back back then, you had to figure it out all for yourself. That was one of the requirements for being privileged enough to be in the loop. Everyone was influenced by Juan [Atkins], Kevin [Saunderson], and Derrick, there was just no way around it early on. So you would often listen to their records a lot, and try to emulate things. That would often lead to originality within the process. Later on, I hooked up with Chris Simmonds from Cross Section records. He held my hand and walked me through everything. He even showed me how to loop a sample correctly.

What kind of equipment did you first begin working with?

All the classic Roland gear, period. I still have many of my original pieces of equipment to this day. We would often use very inexpensive synthesizers or gear that appeared in pawn shops. Otherwise, it was just too expensive to buy new gear. Studio setups were being put together slowly over time.

Since then, you’ve advanced to the point that you’re an instructor on programs like Ableton Live and Reaktor. What do you use to make your own music today?

I get asked this question all the time. People get it twisted in thinking that I only use Ableton Live or Reaktor because I teach these programs. That doesn’t mean those are the only tools I use to create music with. I use a strong combination of analog and digital software. Yes, I use Reaktor and Ableton a lot, but it’s the reciprocal relationship that exists between hardware and software that’s really important. Each influences each other. I often learn something on hardware that I didn’t know about a synthesizer in a software program, and vice versa. That’s very important. I have no problem telling you what I use to make my music. I use the Waldorf Wave, Reaktor, and Ableton Live a lot. I can tell you all day that I use Reaktor, because you will never use it. You think it’s too hard. That’s great because you leave me with so many possibilities all to myself. I have trained so many individuals with private Reaktor lessons. After discussing the possibility of a followup session, everyone always tells me, ‘Hey man, don’t call me, I’ll call you.’ I tend to stay away from anything that too many people use or do. I would have been out of this business by now if I hadn’t done any of this.

My number one motto is this: Always do what your peers cannot do and will not do. And from my experience, that’s been learning Reaktor, music theory, and how to play the piano, all of which I have spent a lot of time doing. You have to reinvent yourself in electronic music quite often. And the only way to do that is to learn new skills, or to branch off into other areas within this business that are of interest to you.

You’ve said that Detroit’s DJs and producers draw on “the ability to work with little or nothing.” Given the expertise you’ve amassed, how would you say that this ethos applies to you?

My project, My Life With The Wave proves that point easily. That project was all done with just one synthesizer, the Waldof Wave. Often I will limit myself to use one synthesizer just to see if I could create an entire track using one piece of gear. Earlier on, you had to do this if you were from Detroit due to financial reasons. Strangely enough, I still adhere to this work ethic, but now out of a personal choice. I’m a strong believer after all of the training I have had from some Reaktor black belts and synthesizer gurus that one synthesizer is enough, in terms of the different frequency ranges, to complete an entire track.

A lot of artists would be scared to release a sample CD because it could make it easier to copy their sound, if not they’re styling. Was there any hesitation to make the My Life With the Wavesamples available, and if so what helped you overcome it? What do you get out of hearing the tracks people have made with your samples, such as Dimi Angélis & Jeroen Search’s Our Life With the Wave?

Exactly! Scared is the word. I have skills, man, skills that took me a long time to acquire. A lot of my closest friends told me I was crazy for thinking about releasing a sample CD. I was a bit hesitant about it at times, too. I didn’t know if it was going to flop or become a disaster. But it has become highly successful and my programming skills have increase tremendously as a result of it. My sample CD is considered a cult classic in the deep house world of music production now. You gotta take risks, man. A lot of professional companies have contacted me to do presets for instruments, programs and sound libraries too. It all became a win win situation.

I can’t stand the presets that come with synthesizers. They’re often whack, not suited for deep house or techno, or they are too trance related. So I was driven enough to do something about that, and I was successful at doing so. If my initial thought is clearly defined that I should pursue something, I usually try to stick with it. It has often turned out to be true. Motto number 2: “At first they talk shit about you, then they ask you how you did it.” I think another reason I have developed a strong following or have gained the respect of so many is due to the amount of information I am willing share. I’m not worried about that either, I just have a sense of compassion to help others not to be stuck regarding the music making process like I was in the past. If anything, what you better be scared about is the samples that I left off of the sample CD. I created a few that were just too good to release, so I kept them for myself. Sometimes I will give Rick Wade a few, just to see what he thinks about them.

I see you’re also offering the sample CD on reel-to-reel, which is unprecedented in my memory. Is tape reel a medium you use often outside this project? With all the tools at your disposal, what about the reel-to-reel still speaks to you?

Yeah man, tape is WARM! I cannot believe the warmth that is coming from this machine. It really warms up your sounds, individual parts, and even entire tracks. I plan on using it heavily. The direction not often pursued is the direction I have to go in. That’s where you find a lot of inspiration and answers you’re looking for.

Are you able to put as much of your music to wax as you’d like?

Not really. And this is what I have to work on in terms of being consistent. This is one of the factors that pertains to working with little or nothing: cash flow! Whenever I would talk shop with Kenny Dixon Jr., he would often tell me that. “Consistency baby, that’s the key.” Kenny always has a white label with him everywhere he goes in the D. If you ever run into him in the D, you can always rest assured he will go in the trunk and have something for you.

These days we hear most of your new work as remixes of other artists. Is there a particular appeal for you to the remix? Or is it just that you get a lot of requests?

After I started S Y N T H, and did the Electromagnetic Dowsing remixes for DeepChord, remix offers came in like crazy — they came after me. Vladislav Delay, Pole, Loco Dice, Pacou, Losoul, Juan Atkins, and a ton of other tracks. I’ve probably remixed the entire country of Germany right now. I’d look at the DEMF line up and say, ‘Damn, I damn near did a remix for the entire festival.’ That was the beginning of the end in terms of being in the one-EP-every-ten-years club. I placed a high bet on myself early on in studying Reaktor that this was going to lead up to all of this, and it did. But keep in mind, the remixes you hear that I have done are simply remixes and not necessarily my own tracks. Often they wind up being my own tracks, but there is also a fine line with providing a remix which takes in consideration the original artist profile, sound, and direction that you think would be best suitable for them. I kind of think of the person I’m remixing as my client. How do I deliver for him? If I deliver well for him, I’m automatically included.

You’ve often remarked that you don’t see a real division between techno and house. Your own productions have ranged from fathomless techno to jazzy house, and you’ve created two rather distinct record labels for your music. Do you see these as different strains in your work?

Man, the British press is to blame for so many different labels and divisions regarding music. Detroit DJs didn’t see the difference between house and techno as blatantly as it is described today. If you liked a record you played it, and you would or could often follow up with playing a techno record after a house record. There were so many journalists from England dying to go to Derrick May’s studio just to see what color his tea pots were. This is where all of this shit came from. “Slam Dance” by Mr. Fingers proves this point. The other three tracks on this EP are entirely deep house, but this track is a bit more aggressive than the others. And from day one, Detroiters always referred to techno as something that is just a bit more aggressive than house music.

As your recent piece for WhatPeoplePlay suggests, seasoned record store clerks such as yourself are teachers for generations to dance music fans. Fewer decide to teach outside record stores’ walls. Have you always had the desire to share your knowledge to others? Do you believe a worthy dance music education can be had through less social means than frequenting record stores?

It all pertains to the Golden Rule: Do unto others as you would like them to do unto you. Again, I don’t have a problem with sharing certain things. Skill replaces luck and even fear. Have you ever notice that the person who is the most afraid to share information and techniques is often the very person that can’t describe the method or process in the first place? That’s why it cant be shared, because the individual doesn’t know much about it in the first place — they simply can’t expand on the information. As far as record stores go, the Internet will never replace human interaction. That’s what’s missing in the digital age of purchasing music. Purchasing music from a human being who is skillful enough to evaluate the music is everything. I was just in Black Market records in the U.K. yesterday, and people thought I worked there because I overheard someone asking for Liz Torrez, “I Can’t Get Enough.” The track was playing in the background, and the person didn’t know what it was or how to find it. You can find out about music you don’t know about through the Internet or computer, but can you ask the computer a question about a song that comes to mind? No.

Although we should never overlook or forget the wealth of knowledge that’s often the soul of our favorite record shops, the 21st century is so much about access to all niches and cultures, often consumed from an information fire hose and nowhere near a local expert. In your opinion, who make the best gatekeepers for our times? What role does the Internet play in that for you?

The Internet does serve a great purpose indeed, But it simply cannot replace the history and story told about music, and the memories people have about music. It can only facilitate the process. So the best gatekeepers regarding the music are the “fallen heroes” of dance shops and the heavy hitters who are working in record stores today.

You’ve also been running music production courses at YouthVille. How long has that been going on?

Since 2006. I took a tour through the facility and asked when could I start immediately. Native Instruments and Ableton lent me their support, and I thank them gratefully for that. My entire role at Youthville has been to be the person who brings in more resources to Detroit, resources that could change a kid’s life. I try to give them hope that someone could tap you on the shoulder and ask you to participate in something that could change your life. This is extremely important because it’s the very one thing the students, and even the general population within Detroit, often thinks will never happen. So I am providing the structure and possibility for that to take place.

What courses are you teaching these days?

Ableton Live, and Reaktor. Man, where was Ableton 10-15 years ago when Rick Wade was literally speeding up a sample he was recording into the sampler with his hand to keep the sample on beat with the rest of the track? That’s one reason I feel Ableton is the best choice for production right now.

Do the courses go into things like music theory, songwriting, or the business end of making records?

Yes, often speakers and lectures may happen where these things are discussed. This is important because it teaches the students the importance of protecting their music early on.

Have you been able to keep up with what your past students are up to? Have many of them continued to make music?

Well, when the students reach the age of 19 they are no longer a member of Youthville. But we have some very talented kids and I see some of them on a regular basis.

You’ve talked about how helping kids realize their goals with Ableton can show them how to use perseverance as a tool for success in other areas of their life (school, etc.). Do you have a feel for how successful that’s been?

I think this is realized from the first day each student is enrolled in one of my classes. I emphasize this from day one. From there it’s up to the student what he or she will do with it. I try to clarify things that are difficult for them, and hold their hand through the music making process each step of the way. Otherwise, it may be just too difficult for them.

Have you heard of any programs like Youthville launching in other cities?

No, I’m not aware of any other program like Youthville in any other city. Youthville is one of a kind. It’s the most significant thing that has occurred in Detroit since the DEMF.

Through Youthville, you probably have a better idea than any one of what Detroit’s next generation will sound like. What developments and trends do you foresee in the coming years?

There are some really talented kids at Youthville and all they need is someone to lead the way — to light the torch and help them extend themselves. I like to be on the “losing team” or on the team that “Dateline America” describes as underachievers or economically disadvantaged. We can’t rely on the press to create opportunities for us, or to tell us how hard life in Detroit is.

Mad shouts out to :

Rick Wade, Theo, Kenny, Rick Wilhite, Patrice Scott, Omar-S, Keith Worthy, Malik Pittman, Kyle Hall, Scott Ferguson, Scott Grooves, Ron Trent, Glenn Underground, Tama Sumo, Pacou, Craig Gonzalez, Patrick Russell, Ray Bone, Downbeat, 3rd Ear, Kai Alce, the Bunker Crew, DJ Qu, Anthony Parasole, and You.

Please tell us a little bit about your podcast for LWE. When/where it was made, if there was any theme?

Dan Curtin: This is an all vinyl mix as that’s all I’m playing in clubs, I don’t even mess with CDs! I did it in my studio here in Berlin in early April. Theme, yes there is one! Just got myself in the mindset of playing in a small packed club like Plastic People or something, getting kind of raw with the atmosphere, taking it a little deep too. So this is not necessarily a general example of how I always play in clubs but it could be if the moment was right.

In another interview you said, “Hip hop will always be the standard by which my beats are judged in my own mind.” What about hip-hop’s beats makes it your gold standard, and who are a few of your favorite hip-hop producers

I must have said that ages ago! But yeah, hip-hop beats have to have that raw rough feel with real groove and soul and an innate sense of rhythm. And in hip-hop you can’t get away with funk-less beats. House/techno beats should also be this way, so I always have that in the back of my mind when making beats. Some of my favorite hip hop producers are, of course, J-Dilla, then Nicolay, Oddisee, Lootpack, Madvillian to name a few.

What did you think of hip-house? A bunch of tracks from the last few years have been centered around monologues; do you see fertile ground for a resurgence?

I was into it way back when! Fast Eddie, Tyree Cooper. I still like to listen to those old tracks from time to time. I’m always up for some good emceeing over house, but as far as a resurgence or a new movement, well, no. I don’t think everything needs to be a movement, micro genre, or some other bandwagon jumpable trend, unless of course that trend is originality.

You’ve stressed the importance of personal innovation in your own music as well as for others. You’ve certainly managed to cover a lot of sonic ground in your career. How do you sit down to make a track with roughly the same gear with fresh eyes time after time?

The gear can be so versatile that I don’t even feel limited at all in the studio. In fact I’m kind of at a place now where I don’t want or need more new sounds or libraries. It just doesn’t matter or help to have millions of pieces of kit or plug ins or sounds. For sure the sounds and gear can be a source of great inspiration but I like to find the core inspiration from deep inside or from the universe and world we live in. So if I approach it like that I can make music with anything really; it’s all about expressing ideas.

In that same vein, some of your tracks are notoriously hard to pin down even within each track, changing directions and bringing in unexpected elements. Why is keeping listeners’ guessing important for you, or is it not? Do you get bored easily?

No, nothing like that. It’s just the way I see things, like one idea will inspire me to go on to another idea, kind of like when you are out walking and waiting to see what is over the next rise or around the next corner. Except I know what is over that rise or around the corner and I go there, but hopefully the listener will enjoy the surprise! But when I focus on tracks that are strictly for the floor I definitely use a more linear approach.

That being said, it must be tough not to fall into patterns or formulas. As I was doing research for the interview I noticed how a handful of your tracks from the 90’s would end up spattered with 303 no matter where they were otherwise going. How much of that came down to what was available to you and how much of it was deliberate?

Interesting that you noticed that! It’s true though, I was using the 303 often and it was deliberate when I used it in the “acid” way. I wanted to take the acid house feeling and play with it by incorporating it into music that wasn’t acid house, kind of like my homage to acid house, feeling inspired by acid house but not wanting to do acid house. But it isn’t tough to not fall into patterns or formulas because falling into a formula is not the way I want to work. It’s boring to me when producers always do the same thing or have the same sound. I try to do something different every time, and now that has just become second nature, I couldn’t even imagine doing the same track twice.

Do you let yourself dabble in trends or are they taboo?

I’m sure I dabble, either consciously or unconsciously. Especially living in Berlin, one can’t help it but to take in all that energy. And if it goes in it’s gonna come out in the music in one way or another. This really can’t be helped. And anyway, there’s nothing wrong with a trend if it is good. I just have a problem with people taking part in a trend just because it has become trendy. But sometimes trends can be especially annoying like the conga trend or the deep house trend because they detract from the legitimately good conga tracks or deep house tracks that are valid in any year. Like I said above, not everything needs to be a movement!

Risk taking in music can mean a higher chance of failure (critically, commercially, how it’s received by dancers); are you willing to put out something you’re not comfortable with? Are you highly selective about what gets released?

I’m willing to put out something that I’m not comfortable with in terms of not being sure how it will be received because it is strange or unique. I always do that! Is that what you mean? Otherwise I’m always comfortable with what I release because I stand behind it 100%. And definitely selective with what I make and with what gets released. But once I make something I usually want to release it.

You’ve just about to release your ninth album, which is rather unique for many electronic dance music producers. What about the form do you find so compelling? Are you naturally prolific?

I guess I’m pretty prolific, I’m in the studio every day. It’s my passion, my recreation, my job. I can’t believe how lucky I’ve been to be able to make this my life’s work. And for the album format, I really like it from a listener’s point of view. I really want to go on that journey with the artist, and if the music is really good then one track just won’t do, I’ll need more. From an artist point of view it’s great to be able to be with the listener for an hour or so to get the chance to tell my story. The music is about so much more than a quick track for DJs to play this weekend.

Besides the switch in the gear used to create your music, how do you think your style has evolved over the nearly two decades you’ve been making music? What’s more important to you now? What’s less important to you now?

Quality of production became more important somewhere along the line. At the beginning it wasn’t even a consideration, I was only concerned with the emotional content but then I became equally concerned with the sound and quality of sound, so that is definitely very important now. But in general my sound has evolved to become much more intricate, more layered, and subtler.

You’ve mentioned how living in a number of different cities around the world has influenced you in different ways. Can you pick out how those cities influenced the music you composed while living in their?

Every place can provide a different influence. I’m from Cleveland, OH so my earlier stuff was much more heavily influenced by the decaying Midwestern urban landscape and all the chaos that comes along with that. It’s a very similar situation to Detroit, although not as desperate. Then I moved to Switzerland with a much more pastoral environment so that injected some tranquility into the very agitated and nervous sound that I had at the time. I’m still trying to work out exactly how Berlin has influenced me, I’ve been here for seven years now. I guess the best thing about being here is that I don’t need to go far to see exactly what not to do!

Have you returned to Cleveland much over the years? Are you at all connected with its “scene”?

I’m not connected with the scene so much there but I do get back a few times each year. I usually play when I’m there, there are definitely some soldiers keeping things happening in my old stomping grounds!

What can we expect from Dan Curtin for the rest of 2010? What about Metamorphic?

Next thing is my album for Mobilee called Lifeblood and a nice world tour to go along with it, then this spring I’ll also release Entanglements under my Planetary alias on Metamorphic.

What first attracted you to dance music?

Aaron-Carl: Do I have to start there? That’s a long time ago, oh my goodness. The thing that got me hooked on house music was going to Club Heaven, and the two songs that did it for me was Jay Dee’s “Plastic Dreams” and Crystal Waters’ “Gypsy Woman.”

And what was the turning point at which you went from a fan to a producer?

I’ve always been one, so to speak. I started out by writing poetry and doing songs as a diary type of thing, as opposed to being a part of bad elements, doing drugs or whatever. It’s funny because I just did it; it was something that was natural and I didn’t know I was a producer until Mike Banks introduced me as one.

So were you working with drum machines and synthesizers before then?

Nope. I had a keyboard that was a hundred dollars, a sampler and a four track recorder — that was it. I didn’t know how to sync, I didn’t know what sampling did, I had no idea. I just knew what I wanted to hear and I made it happen.

What came first for you: hip-hop or house music?

House music, actually.

Interesting. Did you get into hip-hop because it was also part of the club scene?

Well, we listen to everything here in Detroit. So you could go from hip-hop to ghettotech to Prince to B52s to whatever, and as long as it worked it was cool.

Outside perceptions have it that Detroit is the techno city and Chicago is the house city. Who in Detroit fostered your house side, either personally or through their music?

I would have to say Marc Kinchen, MK. Ooh! I didn’t know what the hell it was, but whatever he did it was magic. He was one of the biggest influences for me.

I know his style of cut-up vocals inspired a number of producers as well; was that something you tried to emulate in your own music?

Of course. I do it all the time. [laughs]

You mentioned Mike Banks a little bit ago, and I understand you have something of a complicated relationship. I know he was fundamental to your moving into the realm of making records and stuff like that. Would you tell me a little bit about your relationship with him and where that’s gone since your starting point?

Sure. When I met him I had no idea who he was. And we quickly bonded; it became like a father/son relationship. He taught me a lot about– I don’t know, he gave me that competitiveness. I think the love is still there. As a matter of fact, I shouldn’t say I think, I know the love is still there. We’ve had our ups and downs over the years, but there’s a mutual respect, and I always credit him with launching my career, teaching me what I know. Just recently though, he came up to me and he told me he was very proud of me and the things I had done. And to hear that kind of compliment coming from him was like your father patting you on the back. I was like, ‘Oh my God, I’ve waited my whole life for this moment!’ [laughs]

You got your start on Soul City, a sub-label of his, of UR. What spurred you to start Wallshaker Music?

Necessity.

Can you tell me a bit more?

Well, see, I was saving this for a book I was writing, but I’ll tell you anyway. I wrote a song called “Wallshaker” and that was one of the last records I had done on Soul City. I had realized that my contract was bad, and just me and my attitude, I thought, ‘I’m leaving!’ I went to confront Mike and tell him that, and I expected a fight because of the reputation — the whole, ‘Nobody leaves Submerge and makes it alive.’ But I don’t play that shit. Anyway, I went up to him expecting a fight and I said, ‘Mike, I’m leaving.’ And he said, ‘OK.’ And I kind of went, ‘Huh? Just OK?’ He encouraged me to go out and get my feet wet, learn about the business on my own. I think what he wanted me to do was go out, get beat up and learn that way. And that’s what happened.

If I understand correctly, you also had a sub-label called Anatomik Sounds that put out at least one record. Is that still in existence?

No. It was actually an experiement. Starting a label is a lot of work and I started Anatomik Sounds where Wallshaker was really starting to take off, in my opinion. It had been successful for a while, but I had been so busy for a while that I didn’t stop to realize it. It had to do a lot with artist I was dealing with, too. You know, I’m a firm believer in — I don’t want to say helping out the little guy, but you know what I mean? There’s hidden talent everywhere, and the one thing I never wanted to do was get stuck in what was popular. So I would find people who I thought were talented and give them that outlet, which is what I did. Unfortunately it came back to bite me. I had to learn. You meet a kid and they want to be a star, and they don’t know how much work it entails. And one day it just wasn’t worth it. It’s unfortunate.

On that same note, I know having your own label can free you to make the sort of artistic decisions you want, but I’m sure it also shifts a lot of the burdens — funding, promotion, distribution, etc. — onto the owner as well. What has the experience of being Wallshaker’s owner and manager been like for you?

To sum it up in one word/phrase, I would have to say it’s a bittersoulfulsweet experience. It’s so rewarding because I do get to do what I do. From the beginning I refused to be boxed into one type, one genre, so certain labels didn’t know how to handle me. ‘Oh, we’ll take your vocal stuff but not the techno stuff. We’ll take the techno stuff but not those nasty records.’ [laughs] I guess I’m just a firm believer that it takes all types — that’s how I was raised and I can’t change, won’t change.

Some artists create a different pseudonym for each part of their musical personality and then they’ll shop those different names out to different labels. You, on the other hand, are just Aaron-Carl. Why go one way instead of dispersing your personality across different names.

Because basically I’m just keeping it real. Like any real person I have good days, I have bad days, I have soulful moments, I have X-rated moments, and I wanted to show people I could do all of this.

Tell me a little bit about W.A.R.M.T.H.

W.A.R.M.T.H., baby! You have no idea what’s about to happen with W.A.R.M.T.H., oh my goodness. As you probably know, W.A.R.M.T.H. is an acronym that stands for We Are Revolutionizing the Movement of Techno and House. I started W.A.R.M.T.H. to satisfy a need, really. As an internationally traveling DJ you see everybody else loving what we do here in Detroit. But then I live here, and I’m sure you know it’s the complete opposite. As a matter of fact, a lot of us get depressed when we come home, because we get all the accolades overseas, but when you come home other people in Detroit are like, ‘Oh, it’s you, whatever.’ They don’t view entertainment as a real job, I’ve had that problem for years. When I bought my first house I didn’t realize I was actually making enough money to do it because according to my family and friends, ‘He doesn’t have a real job.’ [laughs] It doesn’t matter that I’m traveling, touring, I didn’t have a real job because I wasn’t punching a time clock at a car factory.

And how does that translate into what W.A.R.M.T.H. does?

W.A.R.M.T.H., it’s multi-faceted. I have a problem with people who are not either in Detroit or from Detroit taking a few sounds and saying, ‘We have the Detroit sound.’ No you don’t! Because you’re not here. Now don’t get me wrong, people like Jeff Mills who left Detroit, much respect for him, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about the kid from some off the wall country who’s only heard the urban legends about Detroit taking a few computer sounds and saying, ‘That’s the sound. Now we’re Detroit.’ No yer not. That was part of my fight, I guess, to reclaim the sound that I feel is being taking away from us.

How is W.A.R.M.T.H. doing that?

Ironically, it started out as W.A.R.M.T.H.313 and it was all about Detroit: Detroit’s history I wanted to honor, I wanted to insure the future for Detroit electronic music, but then it kind of grew. And I realized that some of the biggest producers in the world are from Detroit, in Detroit, or heavily influenced by Detroit, and there’s talent and soul everywhere. So my goal was to, instead of being exclusive to Detroit, I wanted it to be inclusive and bring that soul from everywhere. And it’s worked.

I know you’ve done at least a couple really big events. And I believe there’s a W.A.R.M.T.H. UK division as well?

Yes indeed.

Tell me a bit about W.A.R.M.T.H.’s events and its international presence.

The events W.A.R.M.T.H. are throwing are called Preservation. It’s preserving the integrity of electronic music. The first event was just magical. I spun, Quentin Harris spun, DJ Bone spun, but the crowd was incredible. Mike Banks, Eddie Fowlkes were there, Juan Atkins was there, Scan-7. People who don’t even go out to parties showed their support, and that meant more to me than any other thing that night. That let me know W.A.R.M.T.H. was on the right track. Internationally, it’s growing like wildfire. The audience I get for the radio show I do called W.A.R.M.T.H. sessions, people come from everywhere: Japan, Germany, Italy, Ireland, Australia, and we all have that thing in common — we all want to spread this love. They all have this love for the music. It’s so funny, you have to go to the chatroom — you must. I want to let you in on a little something: W.A.R.M.T.H. International is expanding. The station is going to be 24/7. Right now we have four DJs from different corners of the world doing shows throughout the week. There’s myself, there’s DJ1SRAEL from Dallas, TX, there’s Larry Cavelle from the UK, and Murat from Sweden. We all spin different, we all do different things, but we all have that common bond. And the crowds love it.

That’s gotta be a lot of work.

It is, but it’s worth it.

How much of this is evenly split between all of you and how much of this is an Aaron-Carl thing that other people are a part of?

It’s both. I say that because I’ve assembled a wonderful team of people, and this is where the satellite office in the UK comes in, there’s one in France. Everyone is just really supportive, but I do find myself working from sun up to sun down because that’s just how passionate I am about it.

As part of a scene that often places great store in being secretive, you are an incredibly open artist with a very personal blog, a very personal Twitter account. I was curious why it was important to you to be so open and what some of the upsides and downside have been from being such a public person.

I feel like my life can teach somebody. For the kid who wants to get out there in the industry, they need to know the ups and downs from that. It’s not what you see on TV or read in the magazines all the time. You have lonely days where you feel invisible because you’re not the flavor of the month. These artists really need to know that. I’ll tell you what the upsides are: when people genuinely feel what I’m saying. That is the biggest joy for me. And a lot of times it hits me when I’m not even realizing it. I’ll get an email or I’ll see someone after a show, or even seeing people singing along to my songs with such conviction, I’m like ‘Damn!’ These people are really touched and that really does touch me. I like the fact that I don’t have this giant push behind me, because that kind of turns people away I think — it keeps people at a certain distance and that’s not what kind of person I am. The downside to it is that sometimes it’s a lonely existence. Because I am so open, and really all of my songs are about some point in my life. And sometimes it hurts me really, really bad, but that’s the only way I know how to express myself. It kind of pisses me off sometimes, you know when I write a song when I’m completely depressed, completely confused, and someone says, ‘Oh, that’s fabulous!’ like they enjoy it. No, bitch, you supposed to cry! [laughs] Don’t dance, cry! [laughs]

I imagine it must be rather strange for you to hear some of those very personal songs being played out.

But people feel that. This is keeping it real. There’s too many other people out here making songs, ‘Get out on the dance floor,’ ’shake it,’ blah blah blah. OK, you hear it all day every day. I think people are hungry for reality, you know what I mean? And not in the sense of reality TV, something real. For example, “Crucified,” and I don’t know if you know this, but it was actually a suicide note. My boyfriend broke up with me, I was losing my house, I was going through all kinds of stuff. And I literally — not that I’m proud of it — I wrote that song and that was the time I tried to commit suicide.

Well I’m so glad that you failed on that task and we still have you around. I don’t know how I can express that in stronger terms.

I appreciate that. I’m sitting here about to cry my damn self, because it’s just something a lot of people don’t know.

It’s definitely amazing that you put yourself so wholly into your music. A lot of people don’t feel comfortable doing that at all, and to put yourself out there is a brave move.

If you have to know, though, I’m not doing it for marketing purposes. I am so not doing this for the money or the fame, this is just me.

You’ve written before about how you wanted to highlight influential Detroit artists who “go beyond the usual few.” I wondered who you had in mind as far as who gets overlooked?

Pirahnahead is an amazing artist, period. I think he is very underrated because of the type of music he makes. He’s one of the people I alway used to say wouldn’t be appreciated until long after he was gone, and then people would go, ‘Oh, he’s such a genius!’ There’s a label from Grand Rapids called SIXONESIX, the people affiliated with them, Brian Miller — they call him Phrek — Myles Sergé, they do really amazing music. And because they’re not the flashy, out there in your face kind of people they get overlooked as well.

Have you worked with any of these artists or tried to give them more exposure through Wallshaker?

As a matter of fact that’s what I’m doing right now. As far as Pirahnahead goes, we’ve collaborated on a song or two before. They’ve never been released and that’s just because Pirahnahead is weird. [laughs] He is weird! I love him, but that man is weird. He’ll work on a track, and he works so diligently, it’ll take him years before that song is finished. Or sometimes he’ll do it and it’s so personal to him he doesn’t want to let it go. “Sky,” one of my biggest records, he did a remix– as a matter of fact, he sang background vocals on one — and it’s never been released. He will not let it go.

It must be hard for him to get the exposure he deserves if that’s the case.

That’s just a part of it. Most of it’s politics, too. If you’re not the obvious few you’re going to have a hard time. And it’s unfortunate because some of the people who have made it huge, a lot of them have turned their backs.

Is it ever tough living in the shadow of those big names of Detroit?

It’s an uphill battle. Even for someone like me, my first record– from my first record on it just catapulted me. Even for me, psh, yeah! But it’s only difficult to a degree. I think people are really starting to look deeper, because I am so far out there just being who I am. It’s so funny, I met Farley “Jackmaster” Funk and he had never heard of me before. When he discovered my music he gave me all kinds of accolades — he called my house to give me these compliments. And you know me, I’m about to cry, ‘Oh my God, it’s Farley calling me!’ Long story short, he says, ‘You know, it’s a shame I’ve never heard of you and I live in Chicago.’ And I thought that was crazy because I have fans everywhere, but like wow, Farley hasn’t heard of me?

Who are a few more contemporary artists from Detroit or elsewhere who you admire?

You know who I admire a lot? Daniel Kyo from Spain, he lives in Valencia. I quickly snatched him up and made him a Wallshaker man, because his sound is… [inhales deeply] ooh, it’s soulful, it has all that. I am such a fan of his and I know he is fairly new to the scene. I get inspired by everyone, really. I hope that doesn’t sound cliche.

Maybe just a little bit [laughs].

I really do! You should see my record collection, I have everything from rap to Reba, I do not play. [laughs]

Have you met Kyle Hall?

You know, I’ve been hearing a lot about him and it’s a shame we both live here and we don’t interact. I’m actually going to change that, to reach out to him, which leads me to my next project.

Tell me about it.

W.A.R.M.T.H. International is embarking on a new division. We are going to do a digital shop. First I want to showcase the Detroit labels, and then I want to reach out to the Detroit influenced labels. There are labels in Japan that just love that sound, and they have that sound. There’s labels in Germany, Amsterdam. And I’m bringing them all together. You’ll love the name: MP313.com.

Very cool. When is this launching?

Well this just came about in the last few days. It started based on conversations I had in the chat room, they were saying how difficult it was to get Detroit music elsewhere. And I’ve always heard that. But I guess I just realized, I have the ability to make it happen, so let me do it.

Not many underground producers can say they’ve had Billboard chart success, which you can. What have been the advantages and drawbacks of having success on that scale?

The advantages obviously are the recognition. Having Billboard chart success was fabulous, but the downfall was it was short-lived. And, at the end of the day, it didn’t do much for me as a person. The charts came and went, I still had my day-to-day life.

These days you can probably count the number of male house divas on one hand, yourself included, yet in the last couple years vocals have become really popular again. Do you think there’s room for a comeback of the male diva? And what do you think it would take to make it happen?

Yes, I do. It would take bravery. It would also take a willingness to go against the grain. You think divas in house music you think big power vocalists like my best friend Michelle [Weeks] or Jocelyn Brown or Martha Wash. You don’t think about male vocalists doing that, and when they do they’re rare. Byron Stingily [of Ten City] comes to mind actually. Jeremy Ellis — have you heard of Jeremy Ellis?

I can’t say I have.

Ooh, ooh, ooh, you really need to research Jeremy Ellis, honey. There’s a song he did called “Feed Your Mind,” I’m gonna slap him for singing so good when I meet him. [laughs] It is a fabulous song.

And lastly, what advice would you give young producers, vocalists, people who want to get into dance music, given your wealth of experience?

I would say, be open and be willing to learn. Take the good with the bad. Ooh, I hate to sound like Miss America. You know, ‘Keep your chin up!’ No, no. It’s not pretty, it’s not easy, and make sure you’re doing it for the right reason — alright, here comes another bumper sticker for you [laughs]. If you’re doing it for the money, don’t do it. If you’re doing it for the fame, don’t do it. Do it for you. For the love. That’s really all I’ve done. The success and stuff came as a result of that.

Tell us a little bit about your mix — when, where, and why you made it like you did?

Agnes: Ahhh yeah it’s funny you’ll never believe what I’ve done in order to get there. As always with me, I have to get deep into the things I’m doing. So I thought about getting the “click” in the pitch bend of my old really old MK2’s out from there for some time. Then we came up with the idea of doing an LWE podcast and guess what: you’ve found me dismounting my MK2’s, unsoldering my original MK2 pitches, removing the small iron ball clicking at zero pitch, cleaning them, and you know what it’s so much smoother now =) Seriously, all this to be perfectly honest, I’m playing most of my sets with regular vinyls and Traktor Scratch through time code control vinyls. Traktor doesn’t like the central pitch bend zone on the older MK2’s, you’ve got maybe 0.5 centimeters where it just goes off really weirdly sometimes dropping down or up by a full BPM. On the mix itself, I just really wanted to show what kind of beatz I’m into, what are the tracks I’m digging, snatching in there some of my personal stuff and hopefully providing something personal.

Here are some links for the hard headed out there willing to finally get rid of their “click” pitches:

SL1200/1210 MK2 Service Manual (in German I think, but gooood):

Some interesting links for your pitch faders & MK2 in general:

http://info.bergenteknomafia.com/tech/1200pitch/

http://music.hyperreal.org/dj/pitch_slider/

http://music.hyperreal.org/dj/sl1200.html

When we were discussing the mix earlier, you described the first artist, Djaimin, as a “real house hero here in Switzerland.” Who are some of your other favorite Swiss house producers, new and old?

Yes, sure Djaimin and Mister Mike where running a radio show on Couleur3 called Pump It Up Live, and at the time the radio station hadn’t yet discovered computers. So basically we where immersed in their view of house music every weeks. It was a really good time for me, we were anticipating the next shows very much. Recently we where sitting at Ripperton’s place and he played some of their sets from back in the day and we literally wanted to know what track has been played every six minutes — they played incredible records, really. I think there are only just a few things that are being brought back to our attention but there is so much to still discover in the old — it fascinates me.

Tell me about your experiences in the Swiss house scene — how you got involved, where you went, early residencies, etc.

It really all started up in 2003 when I launched my label, Sthlmaudio Recordings, and strangely, success came from beyond the Switzerland’s borders first. So I’ve never really been involved into a local scene except in my home town of Fribourg, when I was spinning more hip-hop and abstract hip-hop stuff.

What were some of your first pieces of gear? What are your current gear favorites?

Hum well, first of all I think when I started with electronic music as a producer I probably was more on a minimal vibe somehow, always dubbed out but that was the sound of those years and I’m not denying it now. I think I’ve always been ready to explore many different paths in music, being house or ambient or more techno productions. But my roots, if I’m honest with myself, comes from the Mo Wax area, the first Portishead [album], DJ Vadim, DJ Cam, DJ Krush, DJ Shadow and all that scene. This is where it all began for me, the DJing and the attraction to electronic music in general. Concerning house, what I dig in it is the groove — things have to groove for me or I don’t care about them. Onto gear, I’ve just recently bought an Akai MPC1000 and JJOS2XL; it’s fat, there is no emulation, there are things that are close but nothing like the real thing. I’m playing my live sets with it now on top of the laptop and all my recent beatz are out of that box.

You seem to enjoy playing with the concept of artistic identity, using a handful of pseudonyms for your releases. I wondered how you distinguished what was going to be released as whom (beside Modeste, which is quite distinct from the other guises) and why you opted for the many names in the first place?

Indeed I love names; I think names are totally cool. I wouldn’t like very much to be doing what I do under my real name, let’s say; Jean-Pierre Vaucher. To some folks this might sound weird but to me it’s an extension of my art, providing me another way of pushing something I firmly believe in. Each time I’m taking on a new name I can build a totally new world or extend something I’ve already explored. This is powerful and harmless. I was reading a review from a journalist having fun about this with me and I just thought he didn’t get it. In two years I wouldn’t be surprised if the Dj playing the track you hear would be the only one to know who did it, if he does; this is to me where it all started with electronic music:, anonymous records done by god knows who and damn they slam right good. I’m totally into getting back to this.

In the last couple years your number of original releases has grown smaller while your remixes have blossomed. Will you tell us about your thinking behind this?

I’m glad you asked about this, it means you’ve been really and carefully checking what was going on with me and you’re right — I’ve been doing more remixes lately. I don’t know how to explain why it happened this way and so on but here is what I can tell you: I love to remix. I love to have someone else’s materials I would have probably never chosen to use in the first place and do my own sauce with it. It is challenging to work on sounds you didn’t choose. On top of that, I’ve worked onto my own music a lot but I didn’t thought about releasing anything yet. If the things I’ve done in, let’s say 2008, are still releasable in 2010 then it might be wise to do so, if not they better stay on my hard drives. I’ve had this discussion with Quarion and he told me something a known record store owner in Berlin told him: producers should have a maximum of three releases a year; we would have less but far better music. I fully agree with that.

There was also a good deal of consistency between your Agnès remixes — slightly dubbed out, old school arrangements, very thoughtful hi-hat patterns — yet your own releases are rather varied. Have you thought of making more original tracks in this vein, and what explains the consistency between those remixes?

Honestly I don’t over think my music. I do what I do being who I am using what I’m using at the time I’m making it. As I’ve said earlier, I really like all kinds of music and sometimes maybe my own things express this a little more then my remixes; although I’m always striking at making something real for me, something I can be proud of — in a very humble way.

A number of your remixes have locations in the title. What do those denote?

It’s like my use of names; I like to sign things, being in my music or with the naming and wording I use. Within the music industry, what you’ve got to express yourself is a cover and a back print (if you signed on a rich label), label stickers, a name and track title and your music. Very often in the scene, remixes aren’t even recognized as being work on its own from the remixer. People would go, ‘Oh yeah, I love that B1 track on this guy’s record’ without even noticing it is someone else’s work. Still though, I like to remix haha.

Who have you not yet had the opportunity to remix that you would jump at the chance to edit?

This is a hard question. To me there are no goals; it’s more about the contents of the original materials. If I think I could do something with it then I’ll try. Furthermore, I really think the originals I didn’t liked that much turned out to be decent remixes of mine so I’ll probably first accept something I don’t like that much instead of remixing one of my heroes, which I’d probably turn down. Also, lately I’ve just done a remix for a Swiss hip-hop artist from Zürich called Big Zis and this was very interesting for me, something else, different sounds, tempo, vocals. It’ll come out soon on Nation Music.

With old school house motifs coming back in style, what do you think are the most overlooked elements of older house records that could stand a revival? (drum patterning, certain synth sounds, etc.)

To me what is killing house at the moment are those producers taking a full bar loop of a groovy beat they never programmed a single hit, EQ’d it out on the low end, add a kick, add a clap and there you go, groovy wacky house for losers. I’ve spotted some of those kinds of tracks in my own collection and you know what? Shift delete, ciao ciao, bye bye. I’m programming my drums, every single hit you hear in my music is from me; I program everything and this is my only chance to stand out.

Is there another Agnès album in you?

Funny you should ask about this, the wicked team from Drumpoet Community asked me for a sophomore Cavalier EP maybe, and as I mentioned earlier, I’ve got many sleeping things on my drives. Well, as I’ve sent them loads of materials to select from in order to make a four track EP they came back at me asking if we could maybe release a long player, so this will be my next album and I’m currently polishing it up.

What’s on tap for you in 2010? What about Shtmlaudio in 2010?

I think 2010 is an introspective year for me, releasing less but hopefully good things. The Modeste long player for example: it wasn’t a huge press success, I didn’t saw much press attention around it but I’m glad I could release that music and I will be continuing in the future with a CD series on Sthlmaudio aimed at electronic music with a broader view. Also, Baaz is working now on an abstract hip-hop long player which we will release later on this year. Next is my home boy Quenum coming with a stunning house tune remixed by my all time friend Ripperton. We’ve got also some more records in the pipe but there is absolutely no rush at all.

Regarding myself, I’ve got en EP coming out on Ornate Music called Got To Be Strong and another EP I’m finishing right now for Hudd Traxx, and of course the Cavalier LP later this year on Drumpoet Community.

First off tell us about the mix. How was it recorded and what did you want to say with it?

It’s a mix made up exclusively of old tracks that had an impact on me when I first heard them and that still mean something to me. So I guess what we’re listening to here is a mix of some of my earliest influences when it came to making techno/house. It’s a mix of old scratchy vinyl and tracks coming from the computer. It was actually recorded with a pretty clumsy method and without a mixer but it worked out fine in the end  There are some effects on there which help to gel things together a little better.

Before We Say Goodbye is your first proper album in quite some time. What do you like or dislike about the album format?

That’s true. It’s my fourth full length (I did an album for Raster-Noton under the name Modul of which which many people may be unaware) but my first in seven years. It felt like the right time for me to do this and I felt that I had something to contribute, which is the only time you’ll really see me releasing anything. Regarding the album format, I don’t like albums which are simply too long for me to listen to comfortably. By that I mean that I find myself tiring of the sound and wishing the album had been shorter or that the artist has opted to use the full capacity of the CD and I simply don’t often have the chance to listen to 80 minutes of music without being interrupted. My preference is for an album 40-50 minutes in length that has variety, flow and takes you on a little journey. An album of this length can be listened to in total on a train ride, on a typical commute or on a short haul flight. These are often the only situations in which many of us have uninterrupted time these days.

Last year saw pretty major shakeups with your labels. Minimise was closed with Look Long born in its wake, and now Minimise has been restarted. What’s the status of both these labels now? Do you see the two labels creating their own distinct sound profiles?

Yes, MINIMISE is shifting back in to high gear because I have a conceptual project I want to work on and I also got some really great demos via our Soundcloud dropbox on Minimise.com. Look Long is still going and we will release some more music later this year. This was intended as a new space in which to create, away from the expectations that had been built up around MINIMISE; it was a fresh start and it did re-invigorate me and give me a new appetite to create. Had I not started Look Long, we would probably not be discussing a new album right now.

Speaking of labels, Before We Say Goodbye is being released on Poker Flat. What was behind that decision?

I had become friendly with Steve over the past five years or so. He was a big supporter of the Colorseries and he’s one of the most genuinely positive and helpful people I’ve met though the music business. We hung out quite a bit when I lived in Berlin for six months and we collaborated on a track for his albumCollaboratory. Taking that experience together with having done some releases with Poker Flat in the past and knowing that they were a great label to work with, it really was a very natural home for the album.

You seem to enjoy imposing limits on yourself, whether it be time limits as in the 6×6 series or the few pieces of equipment used on Before We Say Goodbye. Why do you impose these restrictions?

Well, I guess given my past people really picked up on the fact that I had only used a few pieces of equipment on the album and figured it had a conceptual significance or as one reviewer stated they actually thought it was the main aim. In fact, I always used to love reading equipment lists of my favourite artists, so I wanted people to know what had been used to make the album. The three synthesizers I used (101, Prophet 5, Synclavier) were selected for their unique sonic characters which I tried to faithfully record with my Pro Tools rig. I then applied processing and treatment only where I thought it was really necessary. So, this time around it wasn’t real a conceptual limiting but simply a wish to use great sounding synths quite simply and thereby achieve recordings which had character and physicality that would stand the test of time.

What are you up to next?

I have a conceptual project I want to release on MINIMISE and I’m collaborating with two friends on an audio visual project. I also hope to finally collaborate with a Berlin-based producer of steely, intense, dark techno. We’ve been talking about it for a long time so it would be great to make that happen.

You were one of many DJs to be influenced by hearing the Electrifying Mojo. How did this open up your mind the possibilities you saw in music?

It was incredible hearing him because nobody had played stuff like that before all next to each other. And it would be some things you already knew but then all of this new stuff that was coming out and he’d make it all fit together. You could hear one of Juan’s new tracks come on but right after that you might hear some Rod Stewart or something like that. He was crazy with how he put music together but it really worked. I wish there was programming like that on everyday radio, man. They don’t understand how good it would be, all you hear is the same kind of thing all day. And the thing is, I know that when I listen to the radio these days, I may not like the songs I’m hearing and then I’ll go off with it stuck in my head all day. A friend of mine has some of the few surviving tapes of some of Mojos’ shows — I’ve got to get them, I just loved it.

Your career got under way after you started hanging out at Transmat a lot. How did that come about?

Ha, the funny thing is man, I met Derrick May one night because he was trying to pick up on my girlfriend. But I was hanging out at the Music Institute a lot and I saw Derrick and those other guys play there and be there all the time. I went and told him I’d been working on some things and he said he wanted to listen to them.

What was some of the advice that Derrick gave you when he was mentoring you?

Just be an artist first, don’t worry about the fame, just be an artist and work hard at being innovative within that. This was from someone who was my mentor, you know I grew up listening to his cassette tapes and listening to what he did in music. It was frustrating at those times when he would tell me to go work on things a little bit more because I’m thinking that I’m doing this but all I’m doing is mimicking what he was doing because he was my mentor. So I had to learn my own way and find my own voice. So he would listen to my stuff and be like, ‘Yeah I like that but that sounds like a drum pattern that I would have used,’ and it pretty much would be because I would get on his 808 and press play off one of the drum patterns that he already had in there. But at the same time I was still learning my way around the studio and finding out what all this equipment did. So he was telling me to go back and work on it some more, when I was thinking I wanted to have a record out in three months time not knowing anything about the business or finding my own style and it was two years later that I got my first release. That’s when I realized why he told me to go back and keep working on it because it was about being innovative and finding my own voice, not just about banging on some drum beats and pressing on some keyboards, you know?

So when your stuff finally came out, you hit the road with Derrick for a while and played around Europe.

When I released that first record in like ‘92, Derrick would be coming back from travelling and tell me how these gigs were in London and Paris and all these places around Europe. I would be studio-sitting for him while he was out of town so I would be getting inspired by his coming back with these stories. Once I got out there and got a taste of it and saw just what an effect Detroit was having on the global music scene, it really opened my eyes to things that weren’t coming to Detroit. Because for us at that time Detroit was all about sitting in the studio and making music, because the Music Institute was closed at that time so there was really no outlet for us to feel how the music touched people. So once I got over to Amsterdam I realized it was much bigger than I anticipated. I was almost a household name there and Derrick was living there and it was a great time because it was really at the beginning of the whole global dance music scene kicking off. I was like a teacher and a student at the same time because I was teaching the European community about what we did in Detroit but I was also learning about all this other music that we didn’t have access to in Detroit.

How did you feel about the fact that Detroit techno was bigger everywhere else in the world than where it came from?

It hit me by surprise, but then if you know the history of music and the history of black music — you know I can go anywhere in the world and people know about Detroit. A taxi driver in some small city in Europe will know about Detroit through Motown and that will be something very special for him. It’s the same with what we do, and also with jazz musicians — it took a long time with the artists being exposed outside of the U.S. for people to realize that this music was a big part of today’s culture. So it was strange seeing this music touching people all over the world and then coming back home and seeing that it was almost non-existent, and it’s still like that today to a certain extent.

You also started out at the end of a stage where a DJ could make it big solely as a DJ. You happened to have the production to back it up but there are a number of your peers (perhaps in slightly different genres) who have made a career just out of DJing.

Yeah, I was very lucky in that respect, especially now with this saturation of DJs and music within the digital era where there is so much out there that it’s difficult to make an impression. A lot of young guys come up and ask me what they can do to make it in this world. I mean, right now it’s about making the music first and then supporting your career through DJing. When I started it was about being a DJ first and making music for me was something I only discovered later. But it’s a different ball game for young guys now because you have to know your history first of all. You can’t just go and buy a laptop and make some music and expect it to be heard you know? You’ve got to have a vision. Now it’s all about this marketing game instead of just being about the music.

Tell me about some of the names you’ve used. Let’s start with Bango.

Bango came from when I did the “Ritual Beating System” track. I was inspired by this drummer Babatunde Olatunji. So Bango was an offspring from the word bongo, it just seemed natural because I was inspired by a lot of African percussion at the time. Todd Terry had also done something under that name back in the day and I was also inspired by that.

OK, how about Kosmic Messenger?

Kosmic Messenger came from me listening to Jean-Luc Ponty. He is a French violinist who hooked his violin up to a lot of on-board effects and he got different sounds from his violin and harmonized it over three octaves. He used a lot of space references to make his point with what he was doing and “Cosmic Messenger” was one of his tracks which inspired me while I was doing a remix of The Prodigy. It was mix that they rejected and I used that as the start of Kosmic Messenger. You see, Kevin Saunderson and I had this remix team going on and they commissioned him to do this remix so he told them he would get me to do the other side. I had maybe only had one record out so I was still learning, but he gave me this opportunity to get my name on a record and I took it.

So you released your first album under the name Silent Phase. Was the plan to record albums under all of your various monikers?

Well you know from Detroit, us being mysterious people as we are, that was what we did. All of us had these different pseudonyms because that was considered what was underground. It was a way to keep people guessing too, and to keep each with its own identity so people would be able to recognize if it was a Stacey Pullen track or a Silent Phase track or whatever.

Tell me about Black Flag and why you set up the label, what direction you wanted to take it in.

I wanted to have Stacey Pullen come out of the shell of all the different monikers as the soul bearer for that label. It was going to be run like Jeff Mills’ Axis or Robert Hood’s M-Plant; no other artists, just their own music. It was also going to be about sampling, because one of the things that Derrick said over at Transmat was “no sampling, Detroit is all about innovative music,” and all that sort of thing. So Black Flag was about me trying other things and expanding my horizons by exploring other things I was interested in. So I was sampling and trying different kinds of music, it was a way for me to do these things without hiding under different names. But I did this album through Virgin in 2001-2002 and that was in conjunction with Black Flag. But there were some contractual things that I couldn’t do because I was under contract with Virgin, which slowed things up. All that is done now. It was a very good deal at the time.

Did that stop you wanting to create music? Would it have all been the property of Virgin?

Pretty much. I mean I got disgusted the business when my album never got a full U.S. release. I mean, not being able to get a release in my home country, that was very defeating there. To be appreciated in other countries was all good but when I didn’t get that release and people are coming up to me saying they had to buy the album on import. So it got me kind of depressed with the industry. My father told me when I got in to the business to watch out and that there were certain things you just had to live and learn. At that time I was still doing a little bit of music for other labels and being part of different things but at that same time I was flying everywhere DJing. That was before the time of making music on laptops while you’re flying. It kind of took me out of my element a little because I was so involved with it. But at the same time it was an amazing way to see the world, I’ve gotten to see some beautiful things and had great experiences. All this time I’m thinking that was cool but knowing that I had to get back in to my music. It took me a while but for the last year I’ve been working consistently on developing new material and now I’m back and I’m alive, which is the name of my new single, by the way. I was working on it last year but I’d work on it a little, and then… I’m really critical of my music. I have a hard time playing it when I’m DJing and of putting my music out because I’m so critical of it. I know that’s what got me hear but I’m just so critical of that and myself. But I got some good feedback from some of the few people I let listen to my stuff and they liked it. Also because the way technology has changed things I didn’t want to put out a sound that was dated. I wanted to make sure that if this was the last track I ended up releasing that it would make an impact, that it would make a statement. It’s always been my goal to make a statement when I put something out, not just to release for the sake of it.

Have you consciously decided to move away from the sounds that made up your earlier stuff?

I mean Detroit is always gonna be in me so whatever I make is going to be under that tag. But at the same time we have been pigeon-holed on playing and making only a certain kind of music. And I have issue with that because there is so much music out here and so much being made. And as much as I always rep my city with what I do, there is so much else out there that influences me when I produce or when I DJ. Being from Detroit I always have people ask me to play something Detroity or to make something like that. But man that’s in me, it’s a spirit, you can’t define the spirit.

Tell me about the mix you’ve done for LWE.

It’s only about eight tracks, but they are things that were inspiring at the time I did it. For me I don’t like to play the same set and the same music. I hear a lot of DJs and they play a lot of the same music they did the night before. But for me I think there is so much music coming out every day, I like to test myself by playing stuff I don’t even know how people are going to respond to. That’s how I get my energy and my inspiration. So these tracks are tracks that are a mixture of some things I’ve played before but then some things I haven’t really touched before in my collection. I just like to keep it fresh. I’ll record some of my sets and listen to them after gigs to work out whether certain songs have worked or what I need to do with them. I always want to keep a lot of new stuff in there to try and stay ahead of the curve a little.

What can we expect from you in the next year?

A lot of music man. I already got two tracks that I’ve finished, two tracks that I’m working on that will be finished soon. I just did a remix for Samuel L. Sessions, for Gene Farris, for some guys out of Norway, all sorts of things. I’m also collabing with Shlomi Aber from Be As One. These are all immediate things that are finished so they’ll be out soon. It’s also the 25th year celebration of Detroit techno, so we’re doing all these D25 parties with people like myself, Carl Craig, Kenny Larkin and some other guys too. Then I’m executive producing some other guys I will put out as well as re-releasing some of the older Silent Phase and Kosmic Messenger stuff, so I got a pretty big year man, a lot of good things lined up.

How did you get hooked up with liebe*detail for your first release?

Ed Davenport: Actually my very first release was with Gumption Recordings, a label set up by 2 friends of mine, who were also co-running the Lo-Fi Stereo label at the time and based near Frankfurt. I sent them some demo tracks a great working relationship arose where they gave me detailed feedback on my productions, with the view to release a record. Eventually we came up with a two track release. It was 2005 when the tracks were made and ‘06 by the time they were put out. I was living in London then and was excited to be releasing my first record! The record did quite well and the B-side track “Yanderling” was probably the stronger track which got noticed. Not long after that the guys at liebe*detail got in touch and so I sent them some more material — the first track they signed was “Swantalk.” This also kicked off a strong bond with the liebe*detail owners and the Hamburg scene they are deeply involved with, and complimented the work I had already done with Gumption nicely.

In status conscious techno circles, remixing Guy J on Bedrock doesn’t have the cachet of, say, a remix featured on an Ostgut Ton mix CD (and you’ve had both). What is your philosophy for who you will and will not release for? Are you open to anything?

First of all I was really happy and excited to do a remix for Bedrock. I have respect for the label and I used to love some of the earlier records in their catalogue in particular. It’s a very professional label releasing good music; maybe it’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but I think its cool that they were interested in bringing in sounds from a different part of the scene. That’s needed more these days! The remix I did for Guy J was kind of a tribute to the type of dark, evolving dance music I was into around the turn of the millennium, with tough, acidic elements and freaky spacial effects. I tried to incorporate these elements into my remix, and also tried to give this vibe a more current sounding finish. Regarding the cachet of certain labels, I’m happy to be able to work with professional labels and artists in all realms, and if I see potential for a remix then I’ll usually be game. I’m a fairly young artist, and I’m still working on my musical identity. Remixes on diverse platforms allow me the space to try things out and experiment, and they’re also a nice marker in my development, like a reminder of where I was at the time it came out.

Are there any labels you’re hoping to record for one day?

I always used to want to put something out on Cadenza. And even though the label has rather dramatically changed its approach nowadays compared to their earlier sound, I still think the label holds a certain special charm. Also I’d love to put some music out on my own platform one day. But I’m realistic and don’t want to rush into anything? So I think that day may be a long way off!

No matter what you’ve done, there’s always been at least a hint of “weirdness” to your tunes, whether it’s the timbres or the trajectory of your tracks. What’s on your mind when you take aural left turns?

Many reasons I think; I suppose its quite often a conscious effort to try to make my productions stand out, and its also often the outcome of my way of working. I normally start tracks with atmosphere and underlying, textural elements that sit under everything else. Sometimes these can be rather strange, leftfield or for want of a better expression “non-commercial.” Then on top of this I tend to use fairly classic drum and synth elements, to give energy and fullness in sound. I suppose its a result of my interest and long-term passion for wonky, weird and experimental music, alongside more straightforward pumping house and techno; I love them both. There is a side of me that doesn’t want to conform to the norm. I feel its too easy to produce a dry, clean track with drums and synths and the odd vocal snippet or two, even if it does put people’s hands in the air! I like productions with more of a raw, thick sound, not over EQ’ed or scrutinized, but rather more organic and flowing. I like to discover things bubbling away under the mix, modulating and tweaking; for me it gives the music longevity, depth and character.

Similarly, a lot of your stuff is a bit disorienting or feels like the listener has taken an overwhelming wrong turn somewhere. What about this vibe is so striking to you?

Well I would hope the wrong turn is not for the worse?! That said I do like the crazy, messed up vibe some records can create in a club. I’m a fan of long musical passages and long tracks in general. Even better if said track takes you down a weird, wonderful and hypnotic path then delivers you on the other side of the break wondering what just happened, but you’re dancing your ass off!

You’ve appeared alongside a diverse cast of artists on record, but to my eyes you’ve not done much collaboration. Is that something you plan to do in the future? Are there any dream collaborations you have in mind?

Some of my first collaborations are about to surface, with an EP on WE ARE alongside Agaric and Beaner, two fellow producers based in Berlin. The project is called The 3 Good Doctors. Watch out for more on that soon! I’d love to sit in the studio with a lot of other producers, just to see how they work — you can learn a lot that way. I’d be pretty fascinated to see the studio set up of some of the longer serving producers who must have some interesting gear and working methods, like Tobias Freund, Josh Wink or Mr G, to name just a few.

Are you planning more releases under your Szenario moniker?

No plans at the moment. This was a project I also worked on while I was living in London, and was really a darker, more trippy techno sound that I feel doesn’t represent me so well these days. I still like the name though. Maybe I’ll work on some more material.

What’s your favorite time or slot to play during a club night and why?

I really enjoy playing late! If I’m playing locally and don’t have to travel onwards the next day, the later the better — providing there is still an atmosphere and an audience. Things get looser and more relaxed as the night goes on. It’s so much fun to close a party, or try to push it on longer.

Tell us about your LWE podcast: how did it come together, and what is the theme?

The mix is about sources of inspiration, new and old. I wanted to record a mix where the tracks sat well together, but also travelled around the spectrum quite a bit (as I normally do when I DJ), without it turning into a full on club set. There are some of my favorite records in there, and some newer gems that I wanted to include too, but wouldn’t normally get the chance to play them in clubs. It’s more of a slower, hypnotic set that I hope is good to listen to at home.

How have a few of the artists featured on it specifically influenced you?

Rhythm & Sound: I distinctly remember listening to the album traveling through London and becoming so engrossed in the sound that I had it on repeat for days during otherwise dull bus journeys. This particular track (“Smile”) always stood out to me and spoke deeply, not only because of Savage’s vocal but through the dense soundstream that pours into your ears, especially when you listen to it on headphones.

David Alvarado: I picked up Mayasongs while I was visiting the States a long time ago and it’s pretty much been in my record bag ever since. I love the heavy, tribal grooves and dubbed atmospheres Alvarado creates, and there’s just the right amount of deepness and sensuality, done in his own special way.

Cassy: Cassy’s productions are pretty unique and special sounding. Particularly in the construction, I love the reduced elements, the drums and her simple, flowing arrangements. This remix I included in the mix is of course well known but I can never get enough of it. The way the various vocal lines drift in and out, and the melancholic, hypnotic darkroom vibe — amazing!

What’s coming up from you in 2010?

I have a new release scheduled for British label NRK. I’ve always been a fan of the label and I’m really excited to be putting an EP out with them. Watch out for more news on that. I kicked off the year working on a nice collection of remixes, for artists like Subroomassociation (Berlin’s Oliver Deutschmann and Thomas Svenson), Maya Jane Coles on London label Dogmatik, and some more to be announced. I’m also just about to perform live at Panorama Bar as part of a Vidab label night. That’s on March 6th. If you’re in town come down and say hello!

In terms of dubstep, Steve Goodman is obviously one of the most recognizable names from Glasgow, together with more recently, Hudson Mohawke and Mike Slott. Who are perhaps some of the more unheralded talent that we can expect to hear more from in the future?

Scotland-wise, there are plenty of great folk coming through. DFRNT in Edinburgh has been a real revelation for me over the past year or so — definitely check him. There’s also people like Taz Buckfaster making some heavy tunes, as well as guys like Loops Haunt and Samiyam. In terms of labels, Gordon who runs the Fortified night up in Glasgow has just kicked off Fortifed Audio, with Loop Haunt’s first release, and he has tons of excellent tunes lined up for release over the next year. Good signs up here at the moment!

Coming from Glasgow, at the time you got interested in dubstep what sort of access did you have for listening to the music and hooking up with like minds?

It was pretty limited to be honest. I first got into this stuff in about 2004 or so, when I was a skint student and didn’t have a net connection. My sources of dubstep tuneage were limited to 1Xtra on my digi radio, and Dubplate.net forum on the net. That forum used to have Rinse sets and stuff posted up, and all the big producers were kicking about, which was cool. On the radio, it was just J Da Flex, once a week really! There were pretty much no nights that played dubstep, and I didn’t know anyone else who listened too or played it. It was pretty strange! As stuff grew on the net, I got in touch with more people across the country, and my first tracks got signed up at the start of 2006 without me really meeting anyone who knew what I was on about! I met Gordon who runs Fortified Sessions, Glasgow’s only strictly dubstep night at his first night in the summer of that year, and since then things have picked up a lot, thankfully.

You’ve spoken about J Da Flex being a big inspiration for you at a certain time. Tell us about him.

As mentioned before, J Da’s show on 1Xtra was one of the few ways I could access any of the sounds I was craving in 2004/5, so it was some formative stuff for me. He played a really nice mix of stuff — broken beat, garage, and the dubstep stuff that was starting to come through then from the likes of Skream, Benga, Digital Mystikz, Toasty, Loefah, so many others. His show was a bit of a lifeline to the scene for me.

You’ve been producing for around 8 years or so. What sort of music were you producing when you started out?

I started off making all sorts. I didn’t really have a clear idea what I wanted to make, so I just did what ever I felt like, whatever was interesting me at that moment. That meant I was making (badly produced) drum n’ bass, weird electronica/IDM stuff, ambient stuff, and all sorts in between, generally in a haphazard and makeshift kind of way. Because I was influenced by whatever I was listening to, I naturally started trying out some garagey, broken beat and dubsteppy kind of stuff, and for whatever reason, I kind of “stuck” on that kind of sound. Probably because I had lots of ideas, and actually made some tracks I was quite happy with.

The word dubstep itself almost seems a bit outdated as it is morphing so quickly with producers from all over the world influencing each other so rapidly. What sort of progression have you seen in yourself and where do you think your sound is headed musically (at least in the immediate future)?

Actually, I prefer that dubstep is morphing left right and centre, because that’s what it was like four or five years ago — no fixed “sound” as such, and lots of ideas coming in from all over the place. I was concerned that something like a standard dubstep sound has emerged, as I feel that that could really kill off what I first loved about it. But I have to say, however many things I hear that sound generic, I am still hearing some really wicked and original stuff, so it’s all good. Personally, I don’t really have a plan about where my sound will go. As long as I feel free to make whatever I feel like making, I’ll be happy. Naturally this will be influenced by whatever I’m listening to. I have definitely changed since my first releases — I am more confident about trying stuff out, and I think my tunes have become more melodic, and possibly have more of a techno influence. The swung garage influence has also snuck back into my sound, increasingly over the last couple of years, and I don’t see myself dropping that any time soon.

Listening to your tracks you can hear everything from ambient electronica through to reggae, Detroit techno and old school rave and garage. Do you feel dubstep is — like hip hop — a type of music that can easily reference other genres in its sound? Are you swayed by the lure of 4/4 beats to release something in a housey/techno style?

Yeah, as I say, a lot of different styles influence what I’m doing. I definitely feel that you could pull almost any style into the bass-heavy, 140bpm-ish zone. Some of the sounds recently have become a bit abstract in terms of just big, weird wobble noises, but the stuff that really grabs me often has a route in some kind of other influences, from dub, techno, whatever. I’m not so keen on the metal/dubstep crossovers, but each to their own eh? In terms of random ones, check Forsaken’s release with Ben Blackmore — Western soundtrack meets garage. Sounds wrong, but it’s actually sick!

Besides other music are there different things that influence your music? Books/film/food, etc?

I’m definitely influenced by ideas when I write a track, particularly from books. The author Iain Banks is a big influence on me, especially his Sci-Fi stuff. Strangely, I also find architecture and abstract art quite inspiring for me musically. The Italian Superstudio architecture stuff from the 70s has been a big influence of late. I definitely feel very visual about music — not quite synasthaesia, but I find I always have a very strong visual image attached to music, and it works both ways — a strong image can inspire me musically.

How did your recent remix of Deepchild come about? I believe that marks your first remix release. Do you have any others coming out soon? And if so who are you remixing?

That remix came about when I was out playing in Australia at the start of 2009. I met Rheyce — who runs the Sub Continental Dub label, and who I had spoken to over the net in the past — when I was playing in Sydney, and he was really keen for me to do a remix. I was really happy with how it turned out, and it seems to be getting a good reaction! I’ve done a few remixes in the past, but for whatever reason this was the first one that made it out. I have also recently done a remix of Erik XVI for the Higpoint Lowlife label, and that is out now I believe. It’s featured in the mix attached to this interview, so check it out.

You started out as a DJ and now you perform live. Tell us about the differences of both for you and your preferences.

DJing is my background I suppose — I’ve been doing that almost as long as I’ve produced, so I still enjoy playing out a bit. However, since I started doing the live set, I don’t get booked to DJ much! It’s cool, because with the live set I get to play strictly my own stuff, and test out some things — mix things up a lot. It feels a bit more personal. On the other hand, if my set is bombing, I only have my own material to draw on. I can’t just pull out the latest banger from the record bag, so it still takes some getting used to.

What can we expect from you in the next year?

I’ve got a 12″ EP with three tracks coming out on Saigon Recordings in the spring (April/May), and a few other 12″s lined up for the year. I’ll also no doubt be doing a bunch more gigs — check my Myspace or gravious.com for up to date info as it arises.