There’s something utterly fascinating about feeling an artist watching you as you listen to their new or unreleased sounds for the first time. This moment when you say something about the track, it’s like taking a plunge into darkness, not knowing how far below the water is. Are you catching the essence on the first listen? Are you completely sidetracked? Did you really hear all of it? And what if, what if you are feeling stuff that only you will ever feel because you know the artist’s work by heart?
I spent an hour and a half in Mister Protein’s studio, listening to discarded sounds, unreleased projects and unfinished businesses. I feel like so much happened in that time? Time probably stopped, in fact. That’s probably what happens when you enter these sacred spaces emanating history and stories. There’s also something utterly unique about hearing someone’s sound through their own sound system. You basically get the chance to have the same ears as them.
A truly crazy experience, that was. I’m just so glad to have all these opportunities. I’m still discovering new stuff all the time. Relistens seem more mature, even. This level of intimacy with all this network makes all their sounds even more unique to me. I get to talk about their colleagues’ releases with them. I’m catching up on 10, even 20 years of shared work and collective knowledge. No wonder there’s something so special about the Munich Scene : they keep pushing themselves, but they push each other too, just the right amount. That’s the Sound of Munich.
Every day is a mountain of music, gossips, stories, shared thoughts and wonderful smiles. It’s overwhelming that I’m the one making them smile.
I’m completely hooked up, now. It’s impossible to find the surface again when you swim in such deep seas of intimacy with artists’ work. But it’s okay. I let it carry me away with the most candid abandon.