I have to confess that I’m not usually deeply immersed in electronic music or hip hop, but this recent EP truly captivated me, compelling me to share my thoughts about it. It embodies a stunningly honest and minimal approach to atmospheric hip-hop that resonates deeply, reaching into the heart. The melodies are intricately woven, creating a delicate backdrop that beautifully complements the dominant vocals—soft, inviting, and effortlessly drawing you into the artist’s emotional landscape.
Although it consists of just four tracks, this EP stands out as one of the most remarkable collections I have encountered in a long time. It serves as a reminder that even in December when many people are finalizing their year-end lists, there is still incredible music emerging. I’ve never been one to create such lists, as I believe that even the last day of the year can unveil something extraordinary.
The lyrics in this EP are profoundly poetic, sparking emotions I haven’t felt for some time. Each line seems to echo with sincerity and depth, making it hard to ignore the emotional weight they carry. This talented Edmonton-based producer has crafted an exquisite masterpiece that deserves your attention. I find myself wanting to play this EP on repeat, immersing my heart and soul in its melodic beauty, continuously mesmerized by its enchanting soundscape.
I have also reached out to the artist to ask our 3 Qs:
What inspired you to start making music and what keeps you making music?
I’ve always had a strong connection to music. As a kid, I would make up these melodies in my head and would hum them constantly, and some would stick with me for months—even years. Strangely, though, it never occurred to me that music was something I actually could do. Much later, I had dull desires of blending together different kinds of music I had grown to love, but because I never had any real formal training, the prospect of making things still felt like an impossibility. When I was about 17, I heard an album called Bad Vibes by the artist Shlohmo. I was obsessed and captivated by it. It was such a beautiful amalgam of many different things that appealed to me sonically. I got intensely curious about how he had made it and found out he was a self-taught producer. It was that moment that made things feel possible for me, and moved me to start making my own music in a serious way.
Now I’ve found myself in a place where I simply see the creative system within as being as fundamental as all the other systems that I regard as essential to my living. Like breathing, eating, or thinking—my creative function is just another way in which I process and interface with the world. I don’t see it as some discrete thing, but rather as completely continuous with my life. This is what keeps me making music.
What was the most challenging thing in your music (artistic) path?
I think the most challenging thing for me was enduring the time it takes to translate impulses, feelings, and musical ideas into musical creations that are satisfying. For a long time, the things I was producing did not seem to be doing those initial sensations justice. That was very unpleasant. Conversely, it can be very soothing to feel as if you’ve gotten it ‘right.’ Like exhaling a long held breath.
What would you dream to do if anything was possible?
Well, I do happen to believe that anything is possible, and there are many things I dream of doing. Though I think it was Dylan that said one has to be superstitious about dreams—of speaking them out loud. And this because they are fragile things, and doing so might be the slight errant move that ruins the possibility of their coming true.
Though I happen to be less interested in definite, definable dreams. What I’m most interested in is the impression we often have that there are things just beyond us that we cannot quite see which we are called to move toward. So not dreams in the exact, but the nameless feeling of dream that moves us forward—believing.
Written by Filip Zemcik
