FlyLo, is it true that you like to think about your music as the soundtrack to a film that doesn’t exist?
Yeah, I’ve always loved building worlds and characters and all that stuff, I’ve always had a big imagination. And with electronic music or instrumental music, you have the luxury of not being told what the song is about, so you can just conjure up any visuals you like for it. That’s the beauty of it. So I’ve always seen my albums as an opportunity to make an audio movie. That’s how I look at it. More often than not, I have some visual in my head when I’m working on music, and that gives me the opportunity to tie things together, it gives me a trajectory, it helps me figure out what the end is supposed to be.
So are you thinking about the concept first? Or does the concept only come to life once you’ve made the music?
I just like to mess around with music and have fun. That’s how it starts, and then the messing around turns into a song, and then it keeps blossoming from there. I never know what I’m going to do, and I think if I ever do, it becomes contrived. I just like having fun and coming up with new ways to challenge myself in the studio, whether it be like learning new things to play, or how I’m going to record a thing… There’s always some kind of challenge. I just like playing around and finding out, “Oh, hey, this is what my inspiration was trying to show me the whole time.” I don’t know what the music’s going to sound like, but I have the way doing of it, the process. And getting into the process is the catalyst for something to happen.
“I was thinking less about time and songs and more about a stream of consciousness. What does it feel like? I wanted it to be alive.”
That’s a perfect example of creativity as “the journey not the destination.”
I hardly ever have the destination in mind! For my new EP, Big Mama, for example, I spent time just gathering sounds together, not writing any music, just creating a bunch of sounds, which is something I’ve never done before. I didn’t try to record songs. I didn’t try to sequence anything. I just made a palette of sounds and then I worked within that to make all the songs for Big Mama.
It seems like a really nice, low-pressure way of working.
Absolutely, I don’t pressure myself. When I’m doing any sort of creative thing, it never feels like pressure because I’m just exploring something that I haven’t done. It all feels new. And not in a bad way! It’s like any relationship, right? I’ve been doing music for so long… I’ve got to switch it up. We’ve gotta switch up positions! (Laughs) Try things a little differently today. Even the way I arranged the music for this EP was different than I normally would. I don’t know how to explain it, I just wanted to feel more free. I was thinking less about time and songs and more about a stream of consciousness. What does it feel like? I wanted it to be alive.
In the past you’ve talked about a kind of magic that’s present in music and art and film… Is that what you mean by having things come alive?
Yeah, I think that magical feeling is something that I try to hold on to. I always try to remember what it was like growing up surrounded by musicians and artists in my family, loving music, wanting to connect through music… I know what it feels like to be a fan of something. I remember what it feels like to see Jurassic Park on a big screen for the first time, with the music swelling. I have all these very pure, nostalgic memories of music and art that I always pull from and am trying to bring into my work.
Did that shift when you started making music professionally? Is it harder to keep that magic alive in the music industry today?
I think the profession tries to pull the magic from you as much as possible, but it’s our responsibility to preserve that and try to keep things fun and free and open and, yeah, magical.
Is it easier to retain that freedom of experimentation when you’re working on music, versus working on something like a film, which you’ve been doing since 2017?
Yeah, I mean… With music, it’s so abstract, there’s room for surprises, you know? We can just throw that other track on there, why not? Take off this track, do whatever we want. The album comes out and you’re still changing it. Film, on the other hand, is such a hard medium to play in, you need to know what you’re doing. You’ve got to convey your vision to a lot of people, and have a valid reason for your vision to exist. I think preparation is the only way you can make the film. Even more so when you’re indie!
How was it transitioning to this new art form? Were you nervous stepping onto a film set for the first time?
It was tough; luckily I went to school for it so I had a bit of education. But there’s nothing like being in it. Even working on my most recent one, Ash, there were some things I just wish I’d been prepared for. But I think that’s what everybody says on every film that they’ve ever worked on! “Shit happens, I did not expect to be dealing with this,” and suddenly you’re having to jump into a different role you didn’t expect.
You’ve also built up your experience bit by bit — first soundtracking films and animations, then directing a short, then co-writing and directing your first feature Kuso… It’s been a nice journey for you.
Yeah, another big one was working on music videos throughout my career with some amazing directions. I’ve had a lot of really amazing mentors along the way: Terrence Malick, Hiro Murai, Khalil Joseph… Quentin Dupieux is another electronic musician who makes films, and he’s been a huge inspiration to me, just seeing him do his thing. Working with these guys and being around them made me realize that it’s also possible for me to do this. And for me, the biggest artistic challenge is making a film, I think, from start to finish. And once you do that, you can’t do it any other way.
“Music is such a spiritual experience. I come from a pure place with it — even after everything, I still just do it because I love it.”
It seems to me that filmmaking might be the ultimate culmination of all your different creative energies; a very real way for you to express yourself fully.
Absolutely, it’s been so great for me. I embrace the chaos of working on every single element of a film. I love the details. I love getting hung up on the tiniest details. I love all that stuff so much. But I don’t recommend it because making films will ruin your life! I promise. There’s no way around that part of it, it will destroy you, it will literally ruin your life. If you’re in a relationship, forget about it, because making films is so hard and so completely all-consuming.
I guess it hits extra hard when a film gets criticized. Kuso, for example, was pretty polarizing.
I’m actually very proud of Kuso! I think it was polarizing — but it’s also got a cult following. And when I was making it, I just felt like… It’s so hard to get recognized in the film world and to be seen, it was just like, “Alright, if I’m going to do this, I’m going to do some shit that people have a very strong opinion on, whether it’s good or bad.” Then again, I also think the best filmmakers know how to take notes. I think the best filmmakers know that this art form is subjective, sometimes you’ve got to figure out how to make it work for the audience. I like taking notes from people on films. I love when people have something to contribute that can that help me see better.
What about with music? Are you also taking notes and ideas from others?
I don’t take notes with music! (Laughs) I don’t care what anyone thinks about that. I only have to report to myself when making music, I only have to impress myself. I don’t have to worry about investors and all that stuff, I don’t have to take notes from anyone. There’s no pressure. Or if there is pressure, it’s just from me. Music is such a spiritual experience. It’s so pure. I come from a pure place with it — even still, after all this stuff, after everything, I still just do it because it’s fun, because I love it.