Part 2
There are many descriptions of the creative state. How would you describe it for you personally? Is there an element of spirituality to what you do?
I don’t know if I would describe it as spiritual, but music is the art form where it is easiest for me to get lost in creation and spend a long time in a trance, working on something before I realize many hours have gone by.
Additionally, it deeply affects me, clearing my mind of other thoughts. Problems and doubts fade away. It may be therapeutic for me rather than spiritual.
I often think of myself as the first listener of anything I am making, and there is an aspect to my music where I like it to feel alive and moving rather than static. I enjoy thinking about a musical piece, then listening to it and feeling great.
Nowadays, I don’t use any tools for tracking timing or grids when composing; I prefer an organic approach.
Once a piece is finished, how important is it for you to let it lie and evaluate it later on? How much improvement and refinement do you personally allow until you're satisfied with a piece? What does this process look like in practice?
I like to let things breathe a bit as I am working on them. So I lay down a foundational track, let it sit, listen to it on different days, then move on to the next part, and so on. It is extremely rare for me to finish a piece in one day.
Likewise, when an album is finished, I give it some time to sit and do additional listens before any final tweaks, and the track order is finalized.
How do you think the meaning, or effect of an individual piece is enhanced, clarified or possibly contrasted by the EPs, or albums it is part of? Does each piece, for example, need to be consistent with the larger whole?
When it comes to an album, the sequencing of tracks and how the mood and themes shift from one piece to the next are essential to making the record work. I spend a significant amount of time experimenting with different track orders and even adding transitions or minor tweaks at the end to make everything work together.
I am not looking for hegemony in the tracks, quite the opposite, I am looking for how to keep things exciting and impactful to make the record work.
What's your take on the role and importance of production, including mixing and mastering for you personally? In terms of what they contribute to a song, what is the balance between the composition and the arrangement (performance)?
A lot of the work I’ve done in the past has minimal traditional production. I usually handle all the editing and tracking, with very little or no overdubs, and then leave the final mastering to someone who knows better than I do how to handle that process to get the tracks ready for the manufactured release.
That has changed a bit in the last two releases. For Dream Walker, I asked Lasse Marhaug to serve as a producer and provide feedback and suggestions on earlier versions of the tracks. And he was essential to getting that record to the finish line and making it work as it does.
It allowed me to get a second opinion to guide the record's direction a bit, so there were more additions and changes than usual. Lasse also did the final mastering.
[Read our Lasse Marhaug interview]
For my latest release, Pendulum, which is full of collaborations, the complexity and variety are more than I am used to handling on my own. I wanted the best possible person to manage the mix so that it sounds right beyond my own mixing capacity.
I asked my friend Jim O’Rourke, whom I respect and whose work speaks for itself, to get involved and help with the final mixing of the tracks. I was happy he agreed to do it, and I am very pleased with the final product and the work Jim did, adding a bit of room and clarity on each track.
We’ll see what happens in the future. I am always open to using whatever tools and help are necessary to make the release shine.
Music and the accompanying artwork are often closely related. Can you talk about this a little bit for your current project and the relationship that images and sounds have for you in general?
The main artwork is an illustration from the 1851 World Fair, where Foucault used a giant Pendulum to demonstrate that the Earth rotates on its own axis. It is a direct reference to the title and the project's global nature, in which I collaborated with people from all over the world to create it.
In the insert, there is a picture of a beautiful Osprey I often saw on a beach in Los Angeles when I lived there. A small homage to the things I left behind when I decided to move to Spain. Finally, I wrote a brief introduction describing the project, with a bit of poetry to wrap it up.
For each release, I always put something together that provides more context and adds a bit of magic when possible.
After finishing a piece or album and releasing something into the world, there can be a sense of emptiness. Can you relate to this – and how do you return to the state of creativity after experiencing it?
Since I got back into music, I’ve actually kept new projects rolling, so there is always something new I am working on. For the main solo releases, I try to play as many shows as possible in the year or two after the release.
But as I mentioned, I am also always already working on other collaborations or solo releases; that way, instead of the emptiness you talk about, which might still exist externally, I am already excited about the next project.
At the same time, I continue to refine the live performance of the current one, which becomes a fun project in itself. What’s the least amount of gear I can bring on the road to recreate the record and make a show I am proud of happen? That’s a whole project in itself.
I would love to know a little about the feedback you've received from listeners or critics about what they thought some of your songs are about or the impact it had on them – have there been “misunderstandings” or did you perhaps even gain new “insights?”
I try not to pay much serious attention to the critical reception of my records. It is not why I make them.
However, I read all the press and try to understand where the critics are coming from, how well-informed their arguments are, and why they reach certain conclusions, whether positive or negative. But it doesn’t drive or change anything I do. At most, I might chuckle if they get something right, or completely wrong, which can happen as well.
I am way more excited when someone comes up to me at a show and tells me that a track or release has impacted their life. Helped them get through a rough time or brought them any happiness or enjoyment. A Spanish musician told me recently that he loves listening to Dream Walker while hanging out with his three-year-old, who seems to really dig it. I thought that was cute and enjoyed hearing it.
Creativity can reach many different corners of our lives. Do you personally feel as though writing a piece of music is inherently different from something like making a great cup of coffee? What do you express through music that you couldn't or wouldn't in more 'mundane' tasks?
For me, absolutely. A great cup of coffee requires trial and error, knowledge of the elements and ingredients, and the ability to make it correctly. That is more akin to playing a music track live, where you use a preexisting concept to perform it at a specific moment. Just like a cup of coffee is really only consumed once, so is a live performance.
Writing a piece of music is different; it's about creating something from nothing for me. An analogy would be creating an entirely new coffee-based drink. Then we are talking.
Just like some musicians treat music like a job and add zero creativity to the music they work on or perform live, the same is true of coffee, right? There is some terrible cookie-cutter dubstep coffee out there.



