Part 2
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 or is there a sense of following things where they lead you?
Because I’m independent and very well surrounded I’m lucky enough to always have a say in every step of the process. I get to decide what the song is going to sound like, which on one hand is a great thing but sometimes I like to let go of that sense of control and let my collaborators do their thing.
My songs are not a&r'd or anything. It’s just me, my producer and our sound-engineer. I trust them just as much as they trust me and ego does not get in the way. We’re all here to do our best work.
Being independent and having a strong support system, I'm fortunate to have a voice in every aspect of the process. I determine the song's sound, which is a wonderful privilege. But there are times when I prefer to release that sense of control and allow my collaborators to express themselves.
Often, while writing, new ideas and alternative roads will open themselves up, pulling and pushing the creator in a different direction. Does this happen to you, too, and how do you deal with it? What do you do with these ideas?
I will try them out. Sometimes it’s rubbish but sometimes it can push the piece into a completely new and in the right direction.
I like to let some time pass in between each step that goes into making a song in case there’s something I would like to switch or try out. I think it’s important not to rush anything. When I’m in the process of making a song, I like to give it the best shot I possibly can and that means giving it every try I can.
My song “Last Letter” was intended to be an acoustic song. Just a lead vocal and a guitar. But some part of me wanted to really try and turn it into this pop-rock thing with lots of layers and different parts. We recorded both versions and the second version is the one that you can hear on the record today.
We spent hours trying various guitar parts and really took the time to listen and choose the thing that we felt fit the song best. Although both versions were beautiful and choosing one was hard, when it finally came to locking everything in, I felt that one of them deserved its place on the record more than the other.
I like to experiment with different approaches. Sometimes it leads to less-than-ideal results, but other times it propels the piece in an entirely new and better direction. I believe in taking breaks between each step in the songwriting process, allowing me the space to make potential adjustments or try out new ideas.
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’m not big on spirituality. I believe in it and I recognize its relevance in specific contexts. However, when I’m in a creative state, I find it vital to stay pragmatic and avoid overly romanticizing what I do or how I feel. That allows me to maintain a better focus on my creative objectives.
If I were to use a metaphor to describe the creative state, I’d liken it to fishing. It’s akin to waiting with a rod in hand hoping for that moment of inspiration. Sometimes you wait patiently, and other times ideas flow readily. When inspiration finally strikes, you need to find the right approach to bring it to fruition and make it a part of your work, much like reeling in a fish from the water.
I don’t fish though. My dad took me fishing a couple of times when I was a kid but I’m incapable of harming and killing animals
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 practise?
I consistently allow time between each step that goes into making a song to let the material breathe and develop its own identity. Each decision I make holds power to influence the song, and sometimes it demands extensive fine-tuning and attention to detail. However, there are instances when minimal adjustments suffice, and I might choose to not alter anything at all.
Typically, I like to leave a one to two-month gap between recording and mixing and a several months between mixing and mastering to ensure the song receives the consideration it deserves.
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)?
I think that these elements are so underrated nowadays, yet, in my opinion they either make or break a song. Engaging arrangements and compelling performances elevate songs. Effective production and a high-quality mix, and master provide the audience with an enjoyable listening experience evoking various emotions.
I love observing our sound engineer Alexis Sudan, at work, whether he’s recording or mixing. It’s a true craft. He hears and discerns things I could never hear. Performance is of great importance to me, and I strive to deliver and get the best takes possible to ensure that my message is conveyed clearly and presented effectively.
When it comes to my work, I always seek arrangements and performances that harmonize the lyrical and the melodic context of the song. If the arrangement I desire surpasses my or my producer’s physical abilities, we call someone who we feel could bring our ideas to life.
Yvan Vindret, who arranged the guitars in “Sexless” and “Two Thousand One” immediately grasped what the songs needed and took them to a whole new level.
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?
That’s something I rarely feel. I don’t really get that feeling after a release but it may surface after a lengthy week at the studio or coming back from tour.
Surprisingly, my toughest moments tend to be my days off because I’m left alone with my thoughts. I actually have time to sit with myself and digest everything that transpired and that can get dark. I make an effort to stay occupied, ensuring a continual flow in my life to avoid getting too dark.
Music is a language, but like any language, it can lead to misunderstandings. In which way has your own work – or perhaps the work of artists you like or admire - been misunderstood? How do you deal with this?
Human communication and relationships captivate me. There are countless layers, facets and stories within them, and each interaction is unique. It’s impossible to connect, comprehend and get along with everyone due to inherent differences. We’re all so different.
To be honest, I tend to avoid addressing misunderstandings that feel minor to me. I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing, but I’d much rather care, express gratitude, and focus on those who genuinely do understand me. I’d rather not waste energy explaining and justifying myself to those who might have already formed an opinion of me based on what I perceive as their misunderstanding.
The world is so hectic, disheartening and infuriating. Everything’s messed up. People (myself included) are fired up, quick to react and sensitive to everything. I try to take negative opinions and cruel comments really lightly because they can make me go to a dark place, which I try to avoid.
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?
I think that everyone expresses and manifests their creativity uniquely. My passion and my life focus revolve around music, and I dedicate all my energy to it. Someone else could be equally passionate about coffee, striving to make the perfect cup, and while I may not understand and not care about that passion, I wouldn’t label it as mundane.
I prefer not to belittle any task because I don’t want to offend or dismiss someone’s genuine enthusiasm. Just like I as a music maker and fan wouldn’t want to hear remarks like “just pick up your guitar and write a little song because it’s not that hard'' or “why do you spend so much time fixating on a song or actively following and keeping up with an artist?”. I try to respect and value each person’s unique interests and passions.
What makes me turn to music is the avenue it provides for communication and dialogue. Through it, I can discover the stories of other artists and share my own. It allows me to open up about things I wouldn’t dare to bring up at a dinner table.
The lyrical subject of my song “Two Thousand One” was something I had never mentioned to anyone in my circle before writing the song. I had to write it first, play it for my friends before actually telling them what was going on in my life.



