Living in Vancouver, you're constantly caught between the urban grit and the overwhelming presence of nature. We are a city of glass and concrete surrounded by ancient mountains and a vast, moody ocean. That tension finds its way into my music every single day, often subconsciously.
When I'm in the studio, I'm not just thinking about the dance floor; I'm thinking about the air, the light, and the specific frequency of the city I call home.
The Atmospheric Influence
There's a specific kind of "grey" in Vancouver—the mist that hangs over the North Shore mountains, the way the rain hits the pavement in Gastown, the soft, diffused light of a winter afternoon. These visual textures translate directly into the sonic textures I use. It leads me toward lush, slightly melancholic pads, dubby delays that feel like they're echoing through fog, and a preference for chords that sit in that bittersweet space between major and minor. The Pacific Northwest sound, to me, is about depth and atmosphere.
Field Recordings from the Coast
I often take my portable recorder out to the seawall or into the trails of Stanley Park. But it's not just about "nature sounds." I'm interested in the intersection. The sound of the wind through the cedars layered with the distant, low-frequency hum of a container ship in the harbor provides a unique "noise floor" for my tracks. I've used the rhythmic clinking of sailboat masts in False Creek as a subtle percussion layer. These recordings ground the electronic sounds in something real, physical, and local. It gives the tracks a sense of place.
Resilience and Community
The resilience of the nature here—the way trees grow out of solid rock, the way the ocean reclaimed the shore—mirrors the resilience of our underground scene. We've seen venues come and go, and the city's development often feels like it's squeezing out the culture. but like the forest after a fire, the community always finds a way to regrow in the cracks. That organic, persistent, and somewhat defiant energy is what I aim to capture in my grooves. We might be isolated from the global centers of house music, but that isolation gives us the freedom to develop our own unique, nature-infused sound.