In Conversation: Chris Hyson
Chris Hyson is multi-instrumentalist, composer, and one of the UK’s most versatile producers working across virtually any conceivable genre. After receiving formal training at the Royal Welsh College of Music & Drama, followed by a Masters degree at the Royal Academy of Music, he continued crafting sonic narratives, all the while balancing out performance, composition and production with a remarkable fluidity. As a performer, Hyson has shared the stage with a wide array of acclaimed artists, including three-time GRAMMY Award winning artist Bill Laurance, renowned drummer and producer Richard Spaven, Mercury Prize nominee TY, singer/songwriter Alison Sudol, and many others. Besides collaborating with music artists and planting seeds in the creative soil of London, making it even more fertile, he has released several solo EPs and five studio albums as Snowpoet, a duo project with vocalist Lauren Kinsella. As a producer, Hyson has worked with exceptional talent from Jordan Rakei to Frida Touray, gaining recognition and radio play across major UK stations such as BBC Radio 2, BBC Radio 3, BBC Radio 6 Music, Jazz FM and Classical FM.
CHRIS HYSON: How you’ve been? What’s going on?
KELLY KORZUN: I’ve been good. Busy summer with lots of back-to-back travel, but I’m finally back to the East Coast, with Chicago Jazz Fest being my final travel commitment. Nothing is ever final, as you know, but it’s nice to be home for a bit.
CH: How was it?
KK: It was as fun as it’s always been, but attending as media/press is very different from attending as a guest because it comes with more responsibility. As much as I love jazz, consuming it non-stop is exhausting. I’d find myself listening to Deftones in a bathtub after a long day to not overdose on jazz.
CH: To reset your jazz brain.
KK: Exactly. My abstinence from jazz didn’t last long, as you can tell. Even though you’ve been working as a musician and producer for years, not that many people outside of the industry know who you are (especially here in the States), and you don’t do many interview appearances. The UK scene is relatively compact, and many artists, labels, and producers are tightly interconnected, with a lot of cross-collaboration between the artists and producers, many of which I’ve interviewed or mentioned on METAL & DVST. It’s very family-like, and I’m not even talking about, say, Yussef Dayes and Tom Misch who literally grew up together in South East London.
CH: Yes, we all know each other, but my journey hasn’t started here in the UK – I was actually born in Spain, in Seville. When I was five, my sister and I moved to the UK with our mom after our parents split up. My mom was English, and my dad was Spanish, so I’m half-Spanish. My dad died 12 years ago, but when I was little, my mom used to take me listen to Flamenco music and church music, which I’ve always liked, but my earliest memories of falling in love with music would be listening to UK garage music as a teenager. My mom’s partner at the time was a jazz musician, and he had a big CD collection, a mix of UK garage, Relaxin’ with the Miles David Quintet records, and then a lot of 80s music, including power ballads like Celine Dion, so it was quite a broad mix. Later, I fell in love with classics, like top 100 songs of all time, bands like Police, which I still listen to a lot.
KK: It’s so interesting that you were born in Seville. I lived in Spain for a while, but I only visited Seville last year when speaking at OFFF festival. Now I know that it’s not only the birthplace of Flamenco, but yours too. I love how passionate people in Seville are about art and culture, and being able to support the city in that capacity felt amazing. When I’m there next time, I’ll send you pics.
CH: That’s really cool. Please do.
KK: After being introduced to a wide range of music in your early years, when did the jazz influence become more prevalent?
CH: In my late teens. There were some guys in my class who were into Miles Davis, Bill Evans, Keith Jarrett – that was my way into jazz. I’m 37 now, and I’m still trying to figure out what it is and how you do it. When I finished school, I felt a bit directionless, so I started working for an estate agent doing admin, and it made me so depressed because I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea of life being like this once you finish school, you know? My mom was really amazing because she encouraged me to pursue music seeing how much I loved it, so I taught myself a bit of piano, but I wasn’t amazing at it. In my school years, I used to play sax, but I was a terrible sax player – I was scared to put my teeth on the mouthpiece because of the way it vibrated, the sensation was so weird, but I knew that I loved music and that I was naturally good at it, but not good enough on any particular instrument to apply that skill to my future, so my mom’s partner at the time said that I should play bass because it’s not as hard compared to other instruments and that everyone needs a bass player. After buying a cheap Fender Squier electric bass and practicing loads in it, I applied to a few jazz colleges and schools that were out of London, with a slightly lower standard of entry (still great schools, but less competitive), and also Royal Welsh College of Music & Drama in Cardiff. Paula Gardiner, The Head of Jazz at RWCMD, was very sweet and saw some potential in me. I worked hard, met a lot of amazing musicians, and then I did a Masters program at The Royal Academy of Music in London.
KK: Once you wrapped up your Masters at The Royal Academy, were you already inclined towards production?
CH: When I was doing the Masters, I started to think less about myself as an instrumentalist, and more about music as a cohesive body of work, more about whole albums and the feeling they gave me. When I finished the program, I definitely realized I didn’t want to be a jazz musician, but I wanted to work on albums and recordings. That’s how I’ve met Lauren – she was a singer on the course. One day, I approached her, said I loved her voice, and asked if she’d be interested in writing a few songs together. Then I invited some people to play, we casually got together to rehearse, and she started improvising in the way she does. Hearing her blending singing and talking in such a unique way, and the flirting between the two, was very exciting and refreshing. I really wanted to record the music that we wrote together, so we went to the studio in Wales – it’s a cabin in the middle of nowhere I go to quite a lot, surrounded by sheep and nature.
KK: I think Mammal Hands recorded their last album in that same residential studio in rural Wales.
CH: Yes, that’s the one. We ended up recording for three full days in a live room, but when I got back to London and listened to recordings, it sounded terrible, nothing like I wanted it to sound like, which was very frustrating because I spent money on it, and at the time I didn’t have money at all. This experience led me to the realization that there should be a different approach to making music in the studio versus what I’ve been conditioned to, which is writing music, rehearsing it with your friends, and then recording it live in the studio. My friend Alex is an experienced sound engineer, so I picked his brain on how to make drums sound the way I wanted them to sound, and that way I learned that I can record to a click track, focus on the drum sounds and snares, record individual layers, and then focus on the guitars, and so on. That was the first Snowpoet album that I produced, and I’ve learned so much in the process of making it for almost a year, with constant exploring and a lot of trial and error. At the time, I was still doing other jobs as a bass player, but when the album came out, quite a few people liked it, and I started getting asked to produce other people’s material, which was more of an old-school producing, less technical. A few Snowpoet albums later, just before the lockdown, I got a big wave of artists wanting to work with me, artists that were a level-up like Jordan Rakei who really liked Snowpoet, and this Californian singer Alison Sudol who used to be a big pop star back in the early 2000s (signed to Virgin), so I had to get my shit together to be able to produce for them. At that point, I got more behind Pro Tools, and it’s been a wild ride since.
KK: It’s great that you were able to preserve and employ your love for music like that, and I think producing is one of the routes to take if you want to cater to music as the art form without committing to the instrument. Mark Ronson turned to DJing and later producing after realizing he lacked the technical ability to be a musician, none of which stopped him from becoming a Grammy-winning producer.
CH: Exactly. I feel like I found my calling as a producer – I felt very lost at the music school because I wasn’t that connected to the craft. You know that feeling when you can sense that something isn't right, but you don’t know what it is.
KK: There are so many ways in which you can contribute to music apart from performing and being a session musician, from teaching to engineering, producing, composing for film/theater, or spinning records. Nothing is out of reach if you really love it. What do you think is the biggest difference between producing a jazz record versus a contemporary record?
CH: Would you consider Snowpoet jazz?
KK: Yes and no. It’s contemporary music with lots of jazz elements to it. It’s not mainstream, but also it’s hard to put a label on what you guys do genre-wise because the sound is so unique.
CH: When people ask me to produce any record, they expect me to do my own thing as a producer, to add texture, ambience, and create the world for the music to live in. When it comes to producing jazz, what I find challenging, especially when recording in the studio, is that a lot of jazz musicians are getting in their heads about their delivery. Most of the musicians I’m working with are so good that I don’t even listen to the notes they’re playing in their solos, it’s more about the general feeling, so I’m looking at a bigger picture and the overall balance, always putting myself in a position of a listener without fixating on the technical aspects of that solo. Navigating one’s mental state when working with jazz musicians is tricky. I’ve worked with musicians across different genres who aren’t nearly as good on their instruments as jazz musicians yet they are far more confident in what they are doing. Jazz musicians can be extremely hard on themselves. Oh, man, that solo…Can I please do one more take? Trying to get jazz musicians let go of their inner saboteur and winning their trust is more of a social experiment. It’s a very genre-specific challenge, and with other genres, it’s not like that at all. Sure, there’s always an element of dealing with mental issues when working with musicians and being very delicate about navigating their story, but in a different way.
KK: On the other hand, producing contemporary jazz record allows for more flexibility and improvisation within the track compared to, say, more mainstream commercial music because if you want it to be played on the radio, it needs to be manufactured in a very specific way. Back in the day, pop music had a very defined structure, which allowed the lyrics and the vocal delivery to stand out. Production wasn’t oversaturated with all the effects and layers modern-day Pro Tools have to offer. There’s a lot of unnecessary over-embellishment in the production these days.
CH: It’s funny you said that because I was in a session with Jordan Rakei this week writing music for his new album, and we would constantly find ourselves fighting the urge to throw more elements in. We would write the second verse and start debating whether or not something new needs to come in to give the listeners an element of surprise, and then we would think: let’s hold back from feeling like something new needs to happen every four bars, you know?
KK: When you’re young, this urge is a selfish thing, and I think this ability to edit and refine comes with experience. For example, when you start out as a designer and you don’t have enough experience, you have this itch to incorporate your entire skillset in a single design, but this over-embellishment doesn’t make any sense because not everything belongs to this concept. If it doesn’t add value to the output, it’s redundant. Why add it then? Just to show that you can manipulate layers in the software you’re working in?
CH: Yeah, exactly.
KK: One of the things I really wanted to discuss with you specifically as a producer is the juxtaposition between the U.S. market and the UK market. It always blows my mind that it takes years if not decades for a UK music act to break through in the States, especially given how crazy talented the UK musicians are. To think that artists like, say, Roisin Murphy, who released her debut record in 2005, only had two U.S. tours in 20 years of her career, not to mention another decade as a part of Moloko, is so frustrating to me. I’ve heard opinions about music artists in the UK not feeling like they are being supported by the music labels enough, or promoted the right way. This is my two cents, but I think that leaving out that element of commercial success and all the pressure that comes with it gives musicians more leeway to make the music they genuinely wanna make, which is what I think makes the UK music so good. Curious to hear your thoughts on both statements.
CH: It’s an interesting analysis, and I think I agree with you. It’s not like the labels aren’t that supportive, it’s just there’s not that many labels in the UK to support the artists, and their resources are very limited compared to the major labels we have here. Big labels would sign up artists with big social media following, and there’s a handful of UK artists signed up by major labels, but there’s a huge underground scene here in London that gets overlooked. In terms of marketing, it’s very capitalistic at the moment. The tops are doing well, but everyone underneath isn’t. Less and less labels are taking risks, and smaller labels have less power to begin with. There’s a lot of great music being made here, but a lot of it doesn't have a home. I had a meeting this morning with this up-and-coming indie musician, he just finished the record, and he was asking me if he should send it to labels, and I said yes, send it to labels, send it to distributors too because more and more musicians would rather have a distribution deal than a record deal these days because labels don’t have enough budget to invest in marketing in terms of hitting big streams for the hope that Apple Music or Spotify will put you on one of their editorial playlists.
KK: Distribution companies like The Orchard are pretty good at promoting new releases, and, as you said, it can be done with or without a music label backing you up as an artist.
CH: By going with a label, you’re already losing half the money you’ve invested in making your album to the label that still can’t do much. That’s why I think the intention behind making music is different in the UK. Sometimes lower expectations can be a good thing, especially when you’re young. It’s interesting: the older I get, the more conscious I become of having to please a certain audience. When I was younger, I didn’t give a shit.
KK: Really? I always felt like the younger you are, the more you try to fit your product into the expected to make a hit, but as you get older, you become more confident in your decision-making process and taste, so pleasing the audience stops being a driver. What I think you’re likely dealing with is overthinking because there’s so many intricate nuances to writing.
CH: Yes, I think you’re right. In my 20s, I didn’t overthink. Now, if I start writing music, there are so many voices stopping me in the flow, which is what I’m trying to work on personally. There’s already enough stuff that’s getting in the way of you making music – the algorithms, the costs, today’s formula of social media. If I see someone I know who’s releasing music, I’ll try my best to listen to it and share it because I know how much it takes to make an album in the world that tells you not to. Even if i don’t like it, I’ll still listen to it and try to find some words of encouragement. As you said, we’re like a big family here, and there’s a huge community of real music lovers and musicians who support each other. We all know how difficult it is to make your music heard in the world where so much music is being released every single day.
KK: Especially today, when there’s an overabundance of content. Making art is already a task, but promoting it is even harder sometimes. That’s why artists need agents, someone who’s gonna be advocating for them in this capitalistic ecosystem.
CH: Not to mention that many musicians are introverted people who don’t feel comfortable going on TikTok and do snippets of singing along and all that social media stuff to gain traction. Also, most media outlets will only respond to someone representing an artist versus self-representing artist.
KK: It’s like influencers creating made-up agents so that communicating their pricing to the brands looks more reasonable. If you had an opportunity to change something in the music industry, what would it be?
CH: Labels need to distribute their money more evenly. For example, a friend of mine who is a mix engineer recently told me that a major label he had connections in ended up spending around half a million pounds on the video for an artist that ended up never being released. There’s lots of people at the top just wasting money away instead of putting money into A&R or finding a new act. There’s so much music that can be released with that ridiculous amount of money, and it’s important for the labels to invest wisely because there’s room for a lot more music to be mainstream, but taste-making should change.
KK: What do you think needs to be done for that change to happen?
CH: Labels need to take more risks, stop focusing on how many followers artists have on social media, and start paying attention to what’s actually going on by going to small venues, watching bands play, and listening to the music. In terms of gatekeeping, there are people curating playlists on streaming platforms, but having one person to decide what goes into these editorial playlists isn’t optimal. There’s a lot of music coming through, and it shouldn’t be filtered through the taste of a single person, who, by the way, might be in contact with specific labels promoting a certain artist, but if you split that job up between more people, you’ll have a lot more variety in what’s being pushed algorithmically. Music is very subjective, and we need more taste-makers with diverse sound palette to funnel through all the great music that’s being made, music that’s completely overlooked and never heard. The music scene is always a reflection of society, and it’s always the music that does something completely different that makes everyone excited. Think about guys like Mk.gee and Dijon who found their own unique sound. They didn’t follow the trend – they created it.
KK: Absolutely. That pun wasn’t intended, but since we’re on the Dijon train, I’m happy to see that he’s finally dropping new material, both solo and in collaborations with other artists. I’ve been manifesting another gem since Absolutely (2021), and the new record didn’t disappoint. If you look at Bieber as one of the most dominant artists of the decade, the fact that artists like Dijon are capable of planting the seeds in something so mainstream gives hope. Dijon is still relatively niche, but what he was able to achieve is remarkable. As you said, very select people at the top have lots of power, but so does authenticity.
CH: Exactly.
KK: There’s a certain professional deformation that happens to a lot of producers where they tend to analyze any music they hear. Are you still able to take your producer hat off and enjoy the music as a listener?
CH: Professional deformation is definitely the case, and the more I work as a producer, the more I naturally tend to analyze music from a production perspective, compositionally, structurally. Don’t get me wrong, I still enjoy music, it’s just there’s less projects and albums that really excite me. One of my all-time favorite albums is Vespertine by Bjork, and when I listen to it, I never think about any technical stuff because it’s such a complete body of work. When it comes to new music, I’m definitely guilty of flicking through tracks, looking for this immediate dopamine hit of something to pull me in straight away. Taking this analytical producer hat off, especially if it’s something I like, can be very difficult sometimes because of the instinct to reverse engineer what I’m hearing.
KK: Do you feel like it’s easier to let go of that analytical itch when you’re in a completely different mode both physically and mentally? For instance, when you’re on vacation or in a different environment.
CH: For sure. It’s so interesting you said that because I recently went to Italy for a week, and I actively noticed that I was listening to music without thinking about production at all.
KK: That’s the universe trying to tell you to go on more vacations. What did you listen to?
CH: Barbra Streisand and Bonnie Raitt because I never listened much to their music back in the day.
KK: Producing music and consuming music go hand in hand because you need to be familiar with new technology, software, libraries, etc. Last year, Spotify put me in the top 2% of listeners worldwide because I scored close to 100K min/year, which means that, apparently, I’m not listening to the music only when I’m sleeping. That said, I do get tired sometimes of listening to the music that carries a stamp of contemporary production, so every once in a while I’d listen to, say, Italian music where even contemporary production still sounds very 90s, or African music, something off-center. I have a guilty pleasure Spanish music playlist that I turn to whenever on vacation, but I’ll never share it with anyone because it’s embarrassing.
CH: You can share it with me.
KK: Now that I know that you’re half-Spanish, I actually might.
CH: You can share half of it.
KK: And become one of these gatekeepers curating editorial playlists? I’ll share it in its embarrassing entirety. Joking aside, what do you normally listen to when palate cleansing?
CH: Something with a strong flavor, like rap music. I like old-school hip-hop, Biggie…I’d love to work on a rap album one day. Sometimes it’s very location-specific, like Spanish music or flamenco because it puts you in a certain place visually and emotionally, or African music, and I tend to stay on it for a while when I palate cleanse. Recently it’s been Squarepusher.
KK: A bit like Aphex Twin, but less dark. The glitches and sensibilities are similar. Both signed to Warp.
CH: Yes, he’s like a more childish and playful version of Aphex Twin. Still very mysterious, but with a layer of complete innocence and giving zero fucks. I’m a big fan of both, and I find them very palate-cleansing.
KK: On that note, I wanna dive a bit deeper on the production aspect because the role and the level of involvement as a producer can vary drastically, and some people still have trouble understanding what producers actually do. All these memes with Rick Rubin explaining he is being paid for the confidence he has in his taste and the ability to express what he feels. Old-school producing was less hands-on, and more about steering the artists in the right direction through experimentation and validation of ideas.
CH: Being a spiritual guru.
KK: Now, onto the fun part. There’s five tracks I picked for us to listen to as an experiment, and these tracks belong to different eras and genres of music. Your producer hat might come in handy now as both of us are gonna try to describe what we hear and what feeling each individual track evokes. Feel free to go as deep as you want on the technical side.
CH: Fun. Let’s do it.
KK: Let’s kick off with Caroline by David Gray. Have you heard it before?
CH: Yes, a while ago though. Nice blend of warm acoustic guitar, textured electronic elements, and layered vocal harmonies creates an atmospheric and moody sound with subtle yet deliberate digital processing. It gives a feeling of nostalgia. Love the drum machine vibe.
KK: By the way, I’d encourage the readers to join us on that journey not only because good music deserves to be shared, but also to see where their emotional response takes them and if anything we describe resonates. Ok, back to Caroline. Country music is something I’ve always had trouble connecting to because it’s more about lyrical content and storytelling, and it’s typically not very adventurous in terms of production. I like how this one blends different elements in it, from electronic to folk, with a nice buildup that turns into a full-on burst of flavor at the end. This is the type of country music I would happily listen to. The next one is We Wait and We Wonder by Phil Collins. I’m sure you’re familiar with it.
CH: Yes, from the Both Sides album. It feels almost demo-like in its rawness, with a strong emphasis on lyrical clarity and emotional vocal delivery, and it’s built around a stark, programmed drum loop with airy synth pads. The opening synth aligns with bagpipes melodically, adding this Scottish vibe to it. Yearning is probably the best word to describe the feeling it gives me.
KK: This is the track that made me fall in love with drums as a kid; this demo-like quality and the way drums intensify, starting far away in the distance and pulling you closer and closer. The marching sound of the drums has so much energy to it. You’ve mentioned Police, and Stewart Copeland is definitely an example of a very unique and instinctual drummer with an insane energy, even now at 73 years old. Also, let’s take a moment to appreciate the fact that Both Sides was entirely produced by Phil Collins, and not many records were virtually a one-man show like that. Let Love Rule by Lenny Kravitz is another one off the top of my head. The next track is Timber by Coldcut.
CH: I’ve actually never heard it before, so this is my first listen. It’s a collage of found sounds (chainsaws, forest noises), breakbeats, and industrial textures, with sample layering and sonic experimentation, and smooth pads juxtaposing the aggressive drum vibe; it’s mix of unease and righteous anger – it feels like a sonic confrontation, pushing the listener to reflect on ecological destruction.
KK: It’s interesting that you heard the ecological destruction because I think it’s a perfect example of storytelling amplified by production. These samples and textures help to communicate the message without any lyrical content, and I like how it’s built around the sound of a ventilator.
CH: Wait, is that a ventilator? You’re right. So cool.
KK: This sound of the machine moving the air in and out of your lungs when you can’t breathe on is what I think creates this feeling of unease you’ve just described, it’s an allusion to the planet being nearly dead, in need of supporting its vitals to stay alive. There’s animal sounds too, but they are stylized: dog barking, elephant screaming, birds singing, etc.
CH: Yeah, now I hear it too.
KK: It all circles back to us talking about adding embellishments versus editing down, and I like the intentionality behind every single element in the track. The next one is EMPATHY 4 BETHANY by Saya Gray. Her music was actually introduced to me by SOHN when I interviewed him earlier this year, and I found myself enjoying it quite a bit.
CH: Massive Saya fan. Lots of lo-fi sounds, glitchy changes, soft vocals. Love all the artifacts in the guitars and pitch wobble. Calm and mysterious.
KK: Structurally, it’s very interesting. A singer/songwriter vibe intro, followed by this jazzy intermission, and there’s so much beauty in its fluidity. It takes you on a serendipitous journey. The lo-fi quality combined with her vocal delivery reminds me of CocoRosie a bit and how they were modifying toy instruments through curcuit bending. The last one is Silver Lining by Mike Stern.
CH: The clean mixing in the track gives each instrument room to stand out and work together. Upbeat and hopeful smooth jazz fusion with clear guitar tones and tight rhythms.
KK: Yeah, I like how all instruments are balanced out, which can be challenging given that you’d expect dominating guitar solos from such a brilliant jazz guitarist that Mike Stern is. Huge Richard Bona fan, and I like how subtly his vocals are interwoven in the tapestry of this production. Wrapping it all up, one can tell that the richer the track is in its sonic storytelling, the more interpretations it will have. It’s like revisiting a book at different points of your life and finding additional layers, and that’s one of the reasons producers exist; there’s a need for the music to be interpret through the lens of one’s taste and sensibility, and I think it’s healthy to turn to different producers to see how they can amplify the material. What do you think is the role of producer today?
CH: The role of the producer is to guide an artist, take an artist on a journey from the beginning to the final delivery, and to refine and enhance the individual voice of that artist to get the best sound for the artist to be defined by without altering their authenticity.
KK: On the other hand, being able to DIY so many things today as an emerging artist, from production to distribution, is empowering. It has its pros and cons, and it’s not easy, but it’s ok to not have a producer, which back in the day was unheard of, and we know cases like, say, Mariah Carey parting ways with Tommy Mottola and not quite being able to sustain the same level of success and recognition.
CH: The question is, do you really need a producer or do you think you need a producer? There were projects where halfway through I’d say to the artists that they don’t need me now, that they need time to figure this out for themselves. Sometimes there’s nothing for me to bring to the table. If I don’t connect to the music, it’s gonna be difficult to bring much to it. It’s genre-agnostic, but I need to connect.
KK: Let’s go back to Snowpoet for a second because what you’ve been able to do with it deserves a deeper dive. Vocals are rarely treated as a vehicle to experimentation, or maybe it has to do with the fact that the audience has a very specific way of connecting to the vocals and the lyrical content. Acts like Hiatus Kaiyote (and Snowpoet) are great at leveraging vocals as a stand-alone instrument. Snowpoet’s latest album Heartstrings is very intimate and introspective. Where do you see the project going in the future?
CH: For every next album, we know the vibe we want to create, and I think we’ll continue taking the experimental route. Like Meredith Monk and a lot of contemporary artists who treat their voice as an instrument, Lauren does a lot of playful stuff with her vocals, which is incredibly fun for the producer because you get to add so many vocal textures with different effects to it. For the next album, I think we’ll do something a bit more beat-driven. I’ve recently been working with Pro Tools a lot, and I made some beats on Ableton I just bought, so next time me and Lauren sit down in the studio, we’ll take that route. We always want to do something different, especially given that, as you said, the last album was quite luscious and introspective, we want to switch it up with something more edgy.
KK: John Mayer once said that the way to determine if the song he wrote is good is if he wants to mix and master it himself. If he feels like he’s not gonna get bored after a few listens, the song will likely sustain as a hit. Do you have a go-to criteria, or it’s more of a feeling?
CH: It’s definitely a feeling. Sometimes I’d be working on Snowpoet’s music or my own stuff, and then halfway through it would start feeling a bit like a job, not as exciting as it initially was, and I would just hold off on it and move on. When I’m collaborating with other musicians, we’re pretty excited about the music we’re making.
KK: You and Jordan have being collaborating for quite a bit, and I’m sure your relationship has evolved and grown over the years. What are you currently working and how would you describe the dynamic in the studio when writing together?
CH: Our relationship since What We Call Life has definitely grown over the years. There were five of us working in the studio on the album, and it was great working with Jordan and his band – all of them are incredible musicians. With this new album, we’re writing one-on-one. Our tastes are similar, and we get excited about similar things in music. It’s been great working with him this year because there’s a collective consciousness that we have when we write music, so we don’t have to discuss much. We get into the flow state very quickly, and we’re able to generate ideas quite effortlessly. At the end of October we’re going to Abbey Road Studios to record with different musicians and produce the album properly because it’s all just demos at this point. We’ve written about twelve songs this year, and they all have their own personalities, their own identity. Jordan makes me love writing music, and I get so much out of writing with him. When I’m writing alone, I hit the walls quite a lot. When we’re co-writing, we hit walls as well, but we keep going, and each of us adds something new that makes the other person excited.
KK: Jordan’s last album The Loop was dedicated to his experience of becoming a father. Loyle Carner’s new release hopefully! is a personal project centered on fatherhood, love, self-improvement, and the hope for a better future. There’s a shift that happens when you become a parent: it really makes you go inward and reflect on your life, but it also pushes you creatively.
CH: For sure. Jordan has always been this amazing musical force, but now he has even more emotion and life experience to be put into his music. He just had his second child, and one of the tunes we wrote together, Don’t Be Afraid, has this beautiful message about not being afraid of the world and yourself, and it was dedicated to his littlest boy.
KK: Based on the feedback you had, what do you think is your unique value proposition as a producer?
CH: Many people say that I bring a lot of details into music, the texture, emotional depth, that I’m expanding someone’s sound, not in terms of layers, but rather in terms of production nuances and subtlety. Enhancing everything that’s there originally is what really excites me. To me, it’s less about amplifying a certain instrument and more about finding ways to texturize what’s already there, adding mystery and depth to captivate the listener, make them go back to listen over and over again and discover something new.
KK: This attention to detail, does it manifest itself only in the way you’re making music, or in your life in general?
CH: In life as well. When I’m on the train, I like to watch people, how their faces are moving, wondering what they are thinking about and where they are going. Some people say I’m good at doing impressions and spotting elements in personalities. As a producer, I’m very honest and raw because it’s my natural tendency, and it applies to me as a person.
KK: And it absolutely shows in all the projects you’re working on. I’m sure you’ll have an amazing time recording at Abbey Road. Excited to hear all about. Excited for new Snowpoet sound, your future rap album, and everything in between.
CH: It was great talking to you – I love your writing. When was the last time you were in London?
KK: Last year, for the Bloc Party’s 20th anniversary of Silent Alarm at Crystal Palace, and it was raining all the time.
CH: Let me know when you’re in London next time. Hopefully, it’s not gonna rain.
