admin(apaull / Courtesy PR)
apaull is a Dutch-Canadian electronic music producer whose releases tread between techno, house, synthwave and indie dance genres He operates his own label, Furnace Room Records and dropped his debut album, Fought and Won, right in the middle of the pandemic, then built on that momentum with Homogeny, an album that dives into themes of human decline and features remixes from Christian Smith on Tronic. That body of work landed him nominations in the electronic and producer/engineer categories at the Forest City London (Canada) Music Awards. Over the years, he’s teamed up with Abe Duque as executive producer on all of his releases, worked with acclaimed Brooklyn based artist, Al Diaz, on lettering for his cover art, received photography contributions from Dave Clarke, and even got a UK garage remix of his track “5g” from Neil Landstrumm. On the live front, apaull has taken the stage at events like Elevate Electronic Music Festival in London, Ontario, a two week UK tour of ancient churches, playing live, in addition to high-energy DJ and live sets at UK, Netherlands and Canadian clubs. His most recent drop is the single ‘Billionaire Bitch’, again executive-produced by Abe Duque, where he takes a sharp look at billionaire sway in politics—calling out names like Musk and Soros in the lyrics.
In the interview that follows, apaull opens up about his take on capitalism, how he approaches production, and the push to flip that “money switch” off.
How did growing up between Dutch and Canadian influences shape the way you approach electronic music production?
I didn’t get into music writing and production until I was in my mid-50s and my history until that point played a big role in how I approached it. Growing up it was the Canadian industrial music pioneers Skinny Puppy and Front Line Assembly that I listened to. In my mind they produced metal, but, added two very important components, danceability by how they approached the drums and synths, and vibe by how they incorporated vocal samples into their music. Many years later, it was the music of deadmau5 that ultimately pushed me over the edge and inspired me to start writing and producing music. Europe has always had a very different and more pronounced dance music scene. Over the years, I would listen to Dutch DJs such as Armin Van Buren but was most heavily influenced by European artists like the Orb, the KLF, Front 242 and Propaganda.
Put into my creative blender what comes out are aspects of these and many other artists, a heavy dose of the 1980s and this strong drive to create something unique and that is my own sound.
What was the biggest lesson you learned from releasing your debut album right in the thick of the pandemic?
I incorporate politics into most of my productions and the pandemic was a great influence. Here we had a public emergency that became much more. It offered governments the opportunity to control the ways populations functioned. It offered the media, in concert with many of those governments, an opportunity to define and sometimes warp the truth to meet their various agendas. I wrote about it in real time. Tracks on my debut Fought and Won album explored the Canadian trucker convoy protesting against mass vaccinations, opposition politicians being arrested for not adhering to all the freedom of movement restrictions, cancel culture and televangelists. This chaotic time was the best time to release this album.
Can you walk us through the moment you decided to start Furnace Room Records and what it means to you as an independent artist?
As a new artist I explored putting my music on respected labels. In the beginning no one knows who you are and unless you are an extraordinary talent (to them) you will be hearing “no” for a very long time. Also labels offer very little. You are essentially tapping into their mailing list (which can be great) but beyond that you cede what little revenue there is to be made and control of your art. It made much more sense to create my own label, mostly as a vehicle for my music, but now starting to include the music of others including Blake Baxter and apaull (Horizont EP) and Abe Duque (cover version of Billionaire Bitch coming out on Christmas Day).
As an independent artist it means that I have full control over my art. I invested the time that I would have put into seeking out labels into finding respected artists and have them remix my work. To date this has included the aforementioned Christian Smith, but also Neil Landstrumm, Developer, Dina Summer, John Selway and Rhys Fulber.
Homogeny dives deep into human devolution with those killer remixes from Christian Smith—how do you decide when a track’s ready to hit the dancefloor versus staying in the conceptual shadows?
That’s a great question. I would say my music lives deep in the conceptual shadows, as you put it. That is by design. Although not (initially) by design, the remixers I work with humanize my music, and by that, I mean take it out of the shadows and put it on the dance floor. I have only been in this industry for a short time. The remixers I work with are established veterans of various scenes and know how to get people to dance. I get introduced to their audiences and hopefully those audiences will take some time to listen to the source material.
I also envision myself more of a writer and producer than performer, not as reclusive as say critically acclaimed darlings Boards or Canada but in that vein That said I do work very hard on developing and playing live performances. Although a competent DJ, I think my performance love is playing my music live.
What’s one collaboration—whether with Abe Duque, Al Diaz, or Dave Clarke—that pushed your creative boundaries in a way you didn’t expect?
I meet with Abe pretty much every week. In addition to really helping me learn and improve the craft of music production, he pushes me in unexpected ways, out of my comfort zones. This has included teaching me to effectively mix my own tracks, become a better DJ and how to create live performances. He brings a bit of chaos to my very linear ways of thinking.
It is easy to develop a certain vision of what you think you need to be as an electronic music artist, with the current template built around the duality of producing music and being a DJ. I remember talking to Dave Clarke about this once, during one of our photo shoots, and saying I wasn’t that interested in being a DJ and him saying quite forcefully, “then don’t”. That was very liberating for me and helped me create my own boundary, which is song writer and producer first and performer second.
Performing at Elevate Electronic Music Festival must be electric; what’s your favorite memory from connecting with the crowd during a live set?
I write dance music, but don’t much like to dance. There’s a weird irony to that, for sure. But what I do like is to see people dancing to my music. There is a certain validation to that, people responding to a set of music you have put together. What was most gratifying at the Elevate Electronic Music Festival was playing one of my (unreleased) tracks and seeing people really respond to it (without knowing it was my track). I felt like you know I can produce tracks on par with successful artists.
‘In ‘Billionaire Bitch’, you’re straight-up naming Musk, Soros, Gates, and Bezos like a lyrical hit list—what personal encounter or headline finally pushed you to channel that billionaire rage into this dancefloor banger?
It was when Elon Musk got involved in the last American election. There was loud howling, from the left, about the influence of billionaires on government and campaign financing. The irony (and hypocrisy) of this is that American political life is rife with the billionaire’s influence, across the political spectrum (and that is the point of the song). While the left may no longer like or approve of Musk, people like Gates, Bezos and Soros are squarely in their corner and they seem to be just fine with that.
In the track, you plead to “turn off that money switch”—if you could flip one real-world switch in the music industry or beyond, what would it be and why?
In the track, the question is about whether there is truly a way to give politics back to the people. American politics has long been so steeped in money. In the last American election the Kamala Harris campaign managed to blow through $1.5 billion in 107 days, still lose and be in debt. Politics should be about ideas, better ideas, not how much money you can throw at television commercials, private planes and celebrity endorsements.
In the music industry, the money switch is down to a trickle by the time it gets to the artist. As a capitalist I don’t think anyone, artists included, are entitled to get paid unless someone wants to buy their art. That said the current system is so distorted that purchased musical art sees the artist get but a sliver at the end. There is a huge opportunity to disrupt how art is sold and who benefits.
Working with Al Diaz on the cover lettering brings in his Basquiat-era graffiti legacy; how did blending that visuals with the song’s synthwave pulse influence the overall vibe of ‘Billionaire Bitch’?
I work with Diaz to create a visual continuity across all my releases. This was inspired by KMFDM’s approach and their work with UK artist Aidan “Brute” Hughes. Hughes created most of KMFDM’s cover artwork and as soon as you see a cover you know immediately that it is for that band. I am trying to achieve something similar. The backdrop of the cover for “Billionaire Bitch”, which is a collage of US dollars, speaks directly to the song and drives the point home. Money is rife in politics, but it always comes with a cost.
After diving into all this intensity, what’s the most ridiculous or fun mishap that’s happened in the studio that still makes you laugh?
I suppose I’m still at the point where my studio mishaps cause me stress. Initially, it was how do I retrace my steps back to that great sound or loop that I have now messed up and lost. Now I’m better able to retrace those steps or just let it go and have the confidence that I can recreate it, or maybe it wasn’t as good as I thought. What gives me the most stress is the impact of operating system or DAW software upgrades and its sometimes-cascading impacts on file access and integrity. Boring stuff, for sure, but it chews up countless hours of unproductive time.
Mostly though, the studio is my happy place that brings me joy. I get to create and let the art bubble up as organically. I may have some idea about a track, but I let things go where they may. There is a certain magic to this especially when that finished track sounds just right.
Stream ‘Billionaire Bitch’: