Right - didn’t Voltaire say “Perfect is the enemy of good”? So with such diversity in your output, from sprawling ambient to infectious techno, how does your workflow change when approaching different genres?
To be honest, my workflow is essentially similar regardless of style. The key, in general, is a sense of immediacy, economy, and playing between polarities like linearity and non-linearity. For example, when making techno, imagining what I might counterpoint in terms of hard-gridded elements (quantized pitches, 16th-note patterns, etc.) with off-grid, non-linear, non-diatonic elements. The key is to work quickly enough to develop detachment from the tools themselves (which, if I’m honest, is one reason I barely use hardware anymore: it’s too easy to fetishize and venerate at the expense of actual hearing) — in order to work quickly and robustly.
Neoliberal thinking has tended to drag us into a trap, giving preference to notions like “exceptionalism” or “innovation” — but it’s my belief that compelling work is really just a byproduct of practice itself. In creative practice, there’s an element of magic and accident; as musicians, much of our job is to recognize that this magic might not have much in particular to do with our own “brilliance”. I feel like sampling culture within hip-hop is a reminder of this. There can be, and is brilliance (across any given genre or emerging form), and our task as artisans is to playfully engage with it, without laying claim or ownership to the music. Music just is.
For decades I really struggled with overworking and over-conceptualising that work, but I‘m finally softening into unlearning some of this. I’m now more invested in the dance of composition. If engaging work is a byproduct of that process, this is a bonus.
So it really is all about process at this point. What fuels your your process? Where do you find inspiration?
I find inspiration knowing that original work has proven both a gateway to memory for me, as well as a way to build portals to parallel universes of possibility and intention. Making music feels cathartic, physically soothing, and mysterious all at once. I keep making music, in part, because it's my “job”, and provides a pathway to meeting remarkable humans — students, fellow producers, DJs, etc. — and I keep making music because life feels desperately short.
I'm aware of my hearing going and energy changing, so to honor these things feels like a good thing to do. Music is a fantastic gateway to silence. To be able to connect with silence feels like coming home. I'm sure there are numerous more ignoble reasons I keep making music too. Moreover it still feels more honest to me than attempting to pursue a half-arsed career as a property developer or something — and far more inspiring. In a strange way, I love the fact there's no real numerical currency value to a song, which somehow serves as reminder of the deeper truth of our short, beautiful, dumb lives.
Neoliberal thinking has tended to drag us into a trap, giving preference to notions like ‘Exceptionalism’ or ‘innovation’ — but it’s my belief that compelling work is really just a byproduct of practice itself