On learning to go with the flow

You’ve been making music for about 20 years now. In what ways do you feel that your musical identity is now concrete?

I had the opportunity to explore many things and countries and musicians, making music and teaching. The last three years, I don’t think my influences and inputs are coming from music itself. I felt very inside my body. My sound is already consolidated. Of course, I’m going to be evolving as an artist, but maybe not in the sound. Now, I’m exploring more the possibilities of performance. But I think 20 years making something in a field, you know what you’re talking about… I started when I was a child. So I think my sound, my sonic statement, is very clear. In order to continue pushing myself, I’m triggering myself in other areas that are nourishing my musical path.

Beyond traveling, teaching, and nourishing yourself in other areas, what have been some other important steps you’ve taken to solidify your musical identity?

I went really deep into different dancing practices within the contemporary dance spectrum, from ballet [to] other areas that I think now I’m more interested in [embodying in] my music. And a lot of sports, like surfing, slackline, biking. I can speak five languages now. I think all these things outside music itself have, in some way, hacked my mind to be able to make more sophisticated music.

How do you decide which new things to pursue? Is any part of this choice about thinking it will affect your music in some way?

No, not at all. It’s things that came to my life in very unexpected ways. When I came back [to Mexico] from Berlin, I was very tired [of the] music industry—not music, but the music industry, which is another thing. So I isolated myself in a beach [area] in Mexico, and somebody invited me to a surfing beach. And I said, “Okay, let’s go,” because I remembered that, since [I was] a child, I always liked to see the surfers, and I believe that it’s a beautiful practice. I was there trying to reset myself, and somebody invited me, and then I went and started surfing from there. It was a practice that helped me maintain my mental health, and I realized [that being] kind of an outsider of music and making things that are not at all related to music helps me make more sophisticated decisions in my creative process.

When I hear you talk about this, it sounds like you’re somebody who takes new opportunities when they arise. You don’t really question it and just go for it.

Yes. I learned that life is about going with the flow, and I refine this concept through surfing practice. I understand that I don’t have control over the results of things, and I need to go with the flow—of course, with direction and intention, but with this openness about, “Let’s see what life brings on.” And this is much more fun, you know? No stress. If you don’t feel the call to go deep, that’s totally okay. But sometimes, these opportunities open doors that you didn’t know you were interested in. So yeah, I’m very curious. I’m a very curious person.

What does your curiosity look like?

Metaphorically talking, it could be kind of like a portal. Just when I’m able to get through this portal, it’s like [getting to] another level of the video game. I realize I need to pass through, even if I’m scared, even if it’s tough, or even if I don’t know what is going to happen. When I’m able to pass through this path is when I unlock the video game level. It’s like, now that I’m learning Asiatic languages—I never thought I would be able to read in Japanese or express [myself] in Japanese.

That’s why I call it biohacking. It’s like, you make another connection in your brain. I’m not that neuroscientific, but I realize that if I’m hacking my mind and my body in several ways, I continue modifying my neurons, my mind.

I want to go back to something you said a few minutes ago, about how when you left Berlin, it was largely to get away from the music industry. What about the industry made you want to get away from it? You’re still putting out music, so it’s not the music itself.

No, not at all. Music will be in my life forever. I think I was tired of ego games. And this is not just particularly in music. I think this is present in all the scenes and industries. The ego games and the competition… I needed a break. And now, I want to be more like an outsider. I’m not somebody that is going to parties and going to the coolest events and these kinds of things. I’m very serious in my music and my [artistic] statements, but by understanding that, for me, everything is a game, I just want to make music and have fun and that’s it.

This makes me think about the fact that you’ve mostly avoided performing live in the past few years. How has that affected how you create music?

I love to perform my music. It’s the thing that I love the most of all. It’s the most challenging and fun and magical to really share the music in a live show. But I’m not a DJ, first of all, so I cannot play many shows. I’m not interested in lots of events. I’m more interested in [fewer] events for high quality and creatorship. If it’s not something that I really feel the call to make, I prefer not to do it. Because when you perform live, you give a lot of energy. I am learning to take care of my energy, so I prefer to do less shows, but proper shows, substantial shows. And to be outside of the music industry for three years, with this new album [HÉMERA Vol. 1], I’m returning totally in another position. [It] allows me to make a proper reset of everything, what I’ve done so far, and get deep into these other universes.

In the last three years, I was hanging around more with people in sports. All my life, I was surrounded by musicians, and last year I was surrounded by surfers and dancers… It was very nourishing to get totally [outside] my scene and enter and explore these other scenes. I realized that there’s a lot of ego in this scene. I just need to maintain my outsider position and my focus on my [artistic] statement, and that’s it.

With HÉMERA Vol. 1, you intentionally allowed yourself to use only a small number of production tools. What does setting limits do for your creative process?

In tech and with AI, always, there’s something new—a new tool, a new software, a new synthesizer. And that’s cool. But with all these tools and technologies emerging, I realized that less and less do we have substantial concepts. I think people are getting too much into, “What’s the new thing [to] make music?” [instead of making] substantial and strong sonic statements, which I’m interested in. [I have used] the same tools for maybe three years. They still give me always unpredictable results. That’s why I love these tools.

I realized that [when I] maintain a line of certain technology samplers and tools I’m using, I’m refining my own sound identity. I’m able to achieve more quickly and more efficiently the concept I have in mind. That’s my technique. I don’t know if it’s the same for everybody, but for me, less is more.

In your interview on the podcast Lost and Sound, you said you always have a concept for your albums. “Concept albums” make me think of music that has words and lyrics, which is not your music. Why do you need a concept to start creating your work, and how do concepts inspire you?

I think making an album is very similar to making a movie. I mean, I’m obsessed with cinema also, and I have friends [who] make cinema, and I realize that this process is kind of the same. When you make a movie, you need a script, and in my case, it’s kind of the same. I need the script, the history, because this allows me to [figure out] which kind of color the sound will have, which kind of vibe, which kind of aesthetic, which kind of atmosphere. I need it for the process and the creative side. I can play around with Ableton and see what happens, but if I want to make an album, a serious project or a concrete project, I need to have this script, which is the same as the concept.

Also on Lost and Sound, you named St. Vincent as one of the few women who produce music. This initially surprised me because I was thinking of production in an electronic sense, but you’re right. I noticed Annie Clark is on your list of Five Things, of artists who inspire you. How does somebody from such a different musical genre inspire what you do?

She plays the guitar and I play synth, so it’s different… But I think there are some lines that connect us. When I saw her live about three years ago or something in L.A., she triggered me in terms of the theoretical essence of her performances. She is performing rock music—I mean, she [defies labels]—but I really [liked] how she embodied her music.

She’s very theoretical, and [I’ve been] very into this way of embodying the music since my beginnings… I think it’s very feminine. I don’t know, maybe this is a particular feminine touch or how the female mind works in terms of music. [Hers] was the most interesting show in terms of performance I have seen. The music is great, but the thing that stands out for me [is] her performance.

I noticed Cate Blanchett on your Five Things as well. You were talking about St. Vincent’s feminine energy as the thing that makes her inspirational to you. Is it something similar with Cate Blanchett? Because that’s not just a different genre, it’s a different medium.

Yeah, definitely. It’s kind of weird to put it in words how these artists, these humans, trigger my creative process. But with her, it’s also something about femininity. It’s something in her work that inspires me to create music, but in this feminine atmosphere. I think she’s very elegant and very deep in her roles.

I remember when she [was] a ballet dancer in this movie with Brad Pitt [The Curious Case of Benjamin Button]. And the way she’s interpreting this ballet dancer with [such] elegance and delicate moves, it was so inspiring. Also, the last role I have in mind is Tár. She’s so deep in this role that you believe that it’s a biographical film, and it’s a total fiction. I’m very inspired [by] the deepness she can achieve in emotions, and I think I’m trying to translate that into the sonic possibilities in sound design. I think that’s my mark: really deep sophistication in terms of sound.

When you mentioned sound design, it reminded me that you’re the only woman in Latin America who’s a certified Ableton trainer. What does training other people in Ableton teach you about how you use it?

Producing other artists, I realized that it’s beyond a technical thing. Teaching people how to use a software, producing an artist, is something more psychological, even shamanical. I think this feedback I received [as a teacher] helps me refine, to make me more sensible, more aware. It helps me have a wider vision about what it is to produce music.

It’s more about humanity and sensitivity rather than technical. I think the technical thing, I already transcend it. I am still learning and I will still be learning… I know there are going to be more technological advancements. But my evolution as an artist is not in that domain. What’s nourishing for me is to have more empathy and more awareness about music, about life, about being a human.