Name: Eric Haynes aka Höhn
Occupation: Producer
Nationality: Canadian   
Current Release: Höhn's self-titled debut album is out via STNS.

If you enjoyed this Höhn interview and would like to stay up to date on his activities, visit his official website for more information. He is also on Instagram, Facebook, and twitter.



When did you first start getting interested in field recordings?  

I learned a lot from one of my mentors, Patrick Haggart (Stereo_IMG), who also mixed the album. He’s done a lot of work with field recordings, and he encouraged me to find a concept for this project and embrace the creativity that comes from imposing limitations and constraints.

After thinking about his advice, I decided to make an album where all sounds were derived exclusively from field recordings and each song used only sounds from one location.

How would you describe what happens when you start attentively listening to field recordings?

Right away I’ll listen for certain timbral characteristics that might make a sound lend itself well to a specific role, like a kick drum or a synth. I’m also always looking for rhythmic elements within field recordings that can be used as the basis for a loop or percussive sample.

Working predominantly with field recordings and sound can be a very incisive step / transition. Aside from musical considerations, there can also be personal motivations for looking for alternatives. Was this the case for you, and if so, in which way?

Maybe – I think I was mostly driven by sonic possibilities. But there was also a part of me that wanted to push my sound design abilities as far as I could and get away from the sample packs that drive a lot of modern electronic production.

What, would you say, are the key ideas behind your approach to music and art?

Mainly I just want to make music that is fun and interesting to listen to. On this project, I worked within the idioms of electronic music but tried to do things a bit differently, whether with sound selection, harmony, time signature, or phrase lengths.

As creative goals and technical abilities change, so does the need for different tools of expression, from instruments via software tools and recording equipment. Can you describe this path for you personally starting from your first studio/first instruments and equipment? What motivated some of the choices you made in terms of instruments/tools/equipment over the years?

While it’s important to have the right tools for the job, VSTs make a lot of money by convincing producers that by buying their product, they’ll finally find the artistic inspiration they’ve been looking for.

Following the theme of embracing limitations, I think it’s often important to work with what you’ve got.

What are the spaces/places/sound sources that you find yourself most drawn to?

I created this album in part to explore how geography and nostalgia influence music. Because of that, the locations of the field recordings were all near my former homes of Calgary and Montreal.

Can you take me through the process of realising a field recording on the basis of a project or album that's particularly dear to you?

On this album, most of the field recordings were taken on camping trips. After setting up camp, I’d wander around with my Zoom recorder for a while and see what I could find.

There’s a page on my website where you can hear some of the original samples I used to make these tracks.

Is authenticity an important element for your work? Do you take an issue with cutting, editing, arranging and processing field recordings?

Authenticity is important to me, but I don’t think there’s a single field recording out of the dozens I used across the album that wasn’t processed in some way!

I don’t think authenticity and intentional manipulation are mutually exclusive; for me, authenticity comes mainly from how an artist relates to their art.

There is a fine line between cultural exchange and appropriation. What are your thoughts on the limits of using field recordings?

That’s a great point—personally, I wouldn’t feel comfortable using a field recording of other artists’ cultural or intellectual property without carefully balancing a lot of factors.

Some of these include consultation and consent, attribution, and benefit sharing. But even in that case, the only authentic way for me to use that content would be to put it into another context, which has to be balanced with the importance of maintaining the integrity of cultural heritage.

At this point, it’s also important to acknowledge the colonial history of Canada and of many of the sites where I gathered field recordings for this project, like Oka National Park, for example, which is located on unceded Mohawk territory.

Sometimes, field recordings can uncover surprising similarities between "natural sounds" and elements of human music. How do you interpret these and what is your own view on what connects these two realms and what sets them apart?

I think there’s actually very little that sets these two apart. What we think of as “human music” is often just natural sound organized in different ways and often with a lot more low-end.

The idea of acoustic ecology has drawn a lot of attention to the question of how much we are affected by the sound surrounding us. What's your take on this and on acoustic ecology as a movement in general?

Great question! I was partly inspired by Jenny Odell’s book, “How To Do Nothing”. She insists on attending to the local and the present to combat the “invasive logic of commercial social media and its financial incentive to keep us in a profitable state of anxiety, envy, and distraction.”

In relation to what you call acoustic ecology, she discusses Bioregionalism: an awareness not only of the many life-forms of each place, but how they are interrelated, including with humans. I want to encourage a type of sonic bioregionalism in the vein of John Cage, for whom “all sounds are music.”

For you to get started, do there need to be concrete ideas – or what some have called a 'visualisation' of the finished work? What does the balance between planning and chance look like for you?

On a track level, my ideas start with something small like a melody or beat that gradually unfolds to become a track. I think starting with a visualization of a complete work would keep me from following my intuition during the process.

However, on a project level, it’s great to have a clear concept or references that can keep you on track and make sure all your songs are cohesive when put together.

Is there a preparation phase for your process? Do you require your tools to be laid out in a particular way, for example, do you need to do 'research' or create 'early versions'?

Definitely. For any song, I think it’s helpful to start with a ‘palette’ of sounds to choose from. This helps me continue a creative flow once it starts without needing to pause as often to search for sounds.

On this album, I started by putting my field recordings into distinct categories and making groups of sounds that could work as different instruments. Then I improvised the melodies, chord progressions, or grooves that became the basis of the tracks.

Many writers have claimed that as soon as they enter into the process, certain aspects of the narrative are out of their hands. Do you like to keep strict control over the process or is there a sense of following things where they lead you?

I do feel that, while there’s no right or wrong answer, if you listen to what the song needs it’ll guide you in the right direction. No matter what your goals were originally they might be thwarted by what you’ve just created.

However, having a birds-eye goal for a track can be helpful when you find you’re getting stuck in the details.

Especially in the digital age, the writing and production process tends towards the infinite. What marks the end of the process? How do you finish a work?

To be honest, it might never be fully “done”. But I think there comes a point where you’re just making small tweaks that don’t really change the overall song, and at some point, you need to call it quits.

Getting feedback and taking some time away from a project helps me feel confident that a track has gotten to where it needs to go.