Part 2

Take us through a day in your life, from a possible morning routine through to your work, please. Do you have a fixed schedule? How do music and other aspects of your life feed back into each other—do you separate them or instead try to make them blend seamlessly?
 
A normal weekday starts with coffee first thing in the morning, then I either head to the office where I do my graphic design work, or I stay in my home studio to write and record. In either case, I usually skip breakfast and have irregular meals throughout the day. Also, to be honest, I get distracted very easily.

I’m quite pragmatic about the creative process, which is why I basically don’t have a set routine. Since working as a graphic designer is less introspective and more collaborative, project schedules are indeed necessary. The bottom line is that the two disciplines inevitably blend together, and I have to come up with something one way or another—whether I’m putting the energy into a song, a book layout, or an album cover.

Can you talk about a breakthrough work, event or performance in your career? Why does it feel special to you? When, why and how did you start working on it, what were some of the motivations and ideas behind it?
 
I honestly can’t think of a moment that I would consider a career breakthrough …

There are many descriptions of the ideal state of mind for being creative. What is it like for you? What supports this ideal state of mind and what are distractions? Are there strategies to enter into this state more easily?

Fairly simple, but not always easy to accomplish: turning off all communication channels and temporarily escaping into a more focused state of mind. I don’t mean this in a spiritual or esoteric way, but rather in a way that creates a distraction-free environment.

For me, it has to be an active decision to start something, unless something is already on my mind. Ideas come to me virtually anywhere … in the shower, when taking a walk, or often right after I wake up. I usually let a melody spin in my head for a few days until I come up with a rough song structure, and then sit down to record the basics. The voice memo function of my phone has become a vital tool for that. There are countless cringy phone recordings of me trying to capture a guitar melody with my voice while walking through the streets … (laughs).

Also, I believe it’s important that technology doesn’t get in my way, which means I already have all the instruments connected to the interface and don’t have to set everything up first.

Music and sounds can heal, but they can also hurt. Do you personally have experiences with either or both of these? Where do you personally see the biggest need and potential for music as a tool for healing?

I’m convinced that the works of some artists have helped me overcome difficult times in the past. Even if the music itself deals with pain, it can resonate with the listener in a soothing way. As a person who not only consumes music but also processes it creatively, a song can always be a catalyst for me to pick myself up and get something done.

I wouldn’t let the music get to the point of hurting me, even though I make myself vulnerable when I open myself up to it. Before I let myself be dragged down by random, formulaic music playing on the radio, I’d rather turn it off.

I’m tired of listening to constructed, clichéd emotions that a marketing team came up with after evaluating statistics on people’s listening habits. But even that music can make another person feel good.

There is a fine line between cultural exchange and appropriation. What are your thoughts on the limits of copying, using cultural signs and symbols and the cultural/social/gender specificity of art?
 
These boundaries are a sensitive issue for me. Entire cultures and subcultures are based on appropriation and adaptation, not necessarily always in a harmful way, but one should be aware of it.

From an artistic point of view, I basically have no problem with sampling or borrowing as long as credit is given. Of course, there are gradations of quality: whether you are inspired by a work of art, whether you quote it on purpose, or whether you just plagiarise. However, all this can be done in a respectful and reflective way.

As much as I support cultural exchange, there are undoubtedly limits in terms of appropriation from a culture, and it requires sensitivity and compassion to understand them. Personally, I’m very cautious when it comes to using certain codes or symbols. I would not want to offend anyone who belongs to a certain cultural or social milieu or has experienced something I haven’t, by adapting a gesture for my own artistic purpose and benefit.

Our sense of hearing shares intriguing connections to other senses. From your experience, what are some of the most inspiring overlaps between different senses—and what do they tell us about the way our senses work?
 
I find it impressive what associations memory is capable of. For example, remembering a certain smell or taste from many years ago, seeing the place in my mind’s eye, and noticing how alive everything feels.

Since I’m not a very sensuous person, perhaps I’d rather answer the question from a perspective that is closer to me. The blending of sound and image comes directly to mind, and how they can amplify each other. When a musical theme manages to create a link with a particular scene or image in my memory forever, I think that’s pretty cool.

Art can be a purpose in its own right, but it can also directly feed back into everyday life, take on a social and political role and lead to more engagement. Can you describe your approach to art and being an artist?

For me, it’s really about the process and the excitement of it. When I start working on a new album, I’m not necessarily looking forward to touring and showing off the finished album, but to everything that happens along the way.

I really enjoy watching making-ofs and studio documentaries—that probably says a lot about it.

What can music express about life and death which words alone may not?
 
Music is a much more abstract and universal language with its own vocabulary and rules. What it has in common with words is that it is able to convey a volume, a rhythm, a change of key. However, words alone cannot take the form of a chord, harmony or interval. On the other hand, music alone cannot reproduce a poem without the words.

In music, it often gets interesting when you try to separate the words from the music. If you take a classic Beach Boys tune, you immediately feel the naive California vibe that people were chasing back then, and then when you hear the lyrics, you get the big picture. ABBA do it to perfection, too. I think that’s where a confusion begins that can no longer be separated.

If you want to take it to the existential level, music can be the ultimate middle finger to death. In “The Physicists”, Swiss author Friedrich Dürrenmatt wrote: “What has once been thought can never be unthought”. It was originally an appeal to science, but replace “thought” with “written”, “recorded”, “sung” … it is out there, and even if there might be no more physical evidence of it one day, a song can play on forever in people’s minds, it can be passed on over generations theoretically, it can be reinterpreted, re-recorded … that is what music is capable of.