DEEPCHILD

INSIGHT 001

A prolific and talented producer, performer, and sound designer, we’ve been fans of Rick Bull’s output as Deepchild and Acharné since first encountering their early releases on Trapez - and we’re delighted to feature the Australian’s wide-ranging thoughts in our first-ever artist feature. Join us as we dive inside the mind of a modern techno philosopher(-kid)…

 

MFA: So how do you generally start a track? What's your approach to those first moments of a blank project?

RB: If I'm working on a commercial commission, the parameters are usually pretty standard - I copy any number of conventional structures and instrumental conventions and take it from there - quick, dirty, fast work always works out best. For my own original work, I've increasingly found the same approach is best - get to the guts of an idea, a groove, a tone-poem quickly, without fuss or complication, and expand horizontally from there.

Typically, I also have a huge folder of audio loops and textures on my hard-drive, and I like to kickstart an arrangement by montaging a bunch of these (typically written, initially, without context) on my DAW timeline. The more everything feels like a game playful conversation to me, the more astute my choices tend to be. Too easily the earnest mind derails what, ideally, should feel like an effortless act of play - so I try to configure scenarios where I can begin work as carefree and minimally as possible.

And what happens when you hit a wall? What are your strategies for getting unstuck?

I'm a big fan of deleting and moving on - sometimes the function of composing is really the metaphysical act itself, and “outcome” is secondary. I typically start by asking, “What can I delete? Which components are essential to the arrangement? And what can be jettisoned to better treasure and nurture those central elements?”

Composing more ambient work in recent years has been a wonderful reminder that frequently, less is more. The neurosis of neoliberalism often leads us to assume we can “fix” inspiration by doing, being, becoming “more”; I generally feel the opposite is true. A single note played thoughtfully may well be all that a work needs. When all else fails, simplify and copy — there's so much compelling work already in the world, and if we can honor this with thoughtful homage, this may also be more than enough.

get to the guts of an idea, a groove, a tone-poem quickly,
without fuss or complication, and expand horizontally from there

I also find playing X-Box and listening to dub can be powerfully creatively unblocking.

So it sounds like you really foreground the process itself. How do you know when a track is finished? Do you have a system for this you can share?

A track is finished, for me, when it is feels close enough and maintains a sense of rawness, dynamic, and space. I try to err on the side of brevity and minimalism. If a work has felt easeful to make, then it's likely finished; if not, it's of little consequence. I consider personal tracks (outside the remit of client commissions) as paragraphs in a diary or open questions, more than definitive statements. They exist in the context of work yet unwritten, and work written previously. Does the mix sound reasonably balanced? Do I feel the work across and through my body? And, practically speaking, does my mix translate through my chosen medium (eg. car, club, laptop) effectively? If so, it's probably good enough to call finished.

The key is to work quickly enough to develop detachment
from the tools themselves

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

Making music certainly feels like a gift, and a celebration of the precious time we’re afforded. But speaking of precious time: back to the studio - what’s your latest technique you discovered that you might be excited to share? Anything that can help elevate, escalate, or accelerate the music making process?

I've been experimenting with writing music in tiny chunks of time - particularly when the teaching term rolls around (I teach audio and sound design at university four months per year). I'll write, for example, before class when I'm on campus for 45 minutes or so, and again in lunch hour. I've been experimenting with writing immediately after waking up after a nap — the first 5 minutes are best — and on public transport. Often, the more “time poor” or “careless” my writing process is, the better the results. The only real key to this approach is disciplined consistency: little, and often. Similarly leaning into subtraction continues to surprise me. How few tracks in an arrangement can I get away with? Which EQs and effects can I turn off? How much of my process can I surrender to things like generative tools or presets? Leaning into these taboos has proven wonderfully creative.

I love that.
Less is so often more. And time chunking can be a super helpful creative technique, but I’ve never heard of it being combined with hypnopompic states like that. Are there any Manifest Audio devices you find yourself using?

Tools like Multimodulator and Crystal Trills are really useful to me - well calibrated, controllable, character-rich tone disruptors that I can understand without too much deep knowledge. They’re intuitively fantastic for adding movement and granularity to things like vocals and percussion or drums. I’m a huge fan of tools that are subtly disruptive and non-linear sounding, yet can be easily automated — both of those racks are great examples of this, adding organic non-linearity and life to static parts in an arrangement.

Amazing — it’s always so cool to hear which devices stand out to people, and how they approach them. Do you have any projects you’re excited to share?

I'm still enjoying the response to my previous three albums, all published within the last 18 months or so - Fathersong and Mycological Patterns were well-received ambient works (incorporating a fair amount of both AI and generative audio tools), and Black Atlantic was a recent foray into more “conceptual” techno, engaging with anthropologist Paul Gilroy's book of the same name, as well as the myth of Drexciya. Looking ahead, I’ve just finished a new ambient concept album which I’ll be excited to share once it’s found the right home — this time incorporating a lot of processed elements of dirt, rubble, and industrial textures. It's a pleasure to find new elements in the audio toolbox to continue to tinker with.

Nice — looking forward to hearing that. What can you tell us about what inspired these works?

Grief, death, parental loss, complex trauma, therapy, sleep, naps, Ayahuasca, mushrooms, exhaustion, teaching, mortality, a wonderful partner, sobriety, awe, the ocean, friendship, the desire to learn to fail more audaciously, an obsession with sound and silence, Sun Ra, digital artifacts, Drake, Basic Channel, Vladislav Delay, 20Hz, playing with tempos both too fast or two slow for me to fully feel comfortable with, and a small but dedicated listening audience.

For more information, follow Deepchild on Instagram.