

"When I hear only straight 4/4 techno there's nothing for me." The Berghain resident explains how versatility shapes his creativity.
This approach recently continued on Gens, Gräser's second album for Ostgut Ton. Released four years on from the spellbinding Code, it saw Gräser draw from his favourite pool of influences—drum & bass, early rave music—to craft another LP that's both razor sharp and full of feeling. Gräser produced Gens in the cramped studio in the Mitte flat he shares with his wife and two small children. As with many artists, his life is balanced between his needs as a musician and his responsibilities as a husband and a parent. Gräser produces music in short bursts, between, say, trips to the kindergarten and family visits to Berlin's Natural History Museum.
A few days before Gens' release, I met Gräser at the Natural History Museum for a chat about his career so far. Sitting atop a stool in a cafeteria bustling with schoolchildren, he told me about his rise from a frustrated 20-something producer to a globally recognised artist, while outlining his vision for versatile techno and his quest for originality.


You released Code more than four years ago. How has your life changed since then?
Doing an album always changes something for artists, because you have people looking at you more intensely afterwards. An album gets more promotion, and it pushed my profile a lot. Before Code I always travelled with someone else from Ostgut, so I was a smaller part of something. It changed a lot for me. People talk about my productions now.
And what about you as a person?
In the time before I made "Escape Myself" I was often in a bad mood. I produced it in the wintertime, when everything is darker and more depressed. I didn't have a good job—I was always working here and there doing easy things. I studied media informatics but I dropped out. I liked the media side but the technology part was a bit too crazy for me. It was all about programming in Java language and C++, but I'm not that kind of guy. I'm more into using the programs those people make.
What do you mean by bad moods?
There was a lot of sadness. It wasn't the best part of my life. The music I made then sounds like it came from deep inside my heart. Even the name, "Escape Myself," was about escaping that life. I wanted to change something. I was always in this loop. I wasn't travelling. After I met my wife, who's from Singapore, I started travelling more, so everything opened up. Then my son was born.
Why weren't you in the best place?
I was trying to find myself. I didn't have a good job so I was always looking for money. I worked at a company doing party rentals, so we'd build furniture for events. I did some label work and worked at Rotation Records for a little while, but it was always these smaller jobs. During this time, I was trying to work out what was best for me and if there was something I could show people. We showed the track to Torsten from Hard Wax, who said that it sounded like something new. A lot of people told me that it sounded fresh, which I was really happy to hear. It was my dream to find something like that.
I know you waited a long time for things to get going.
I was already thinking about being a DJ from when I was 12 or 13. I started producing in 2007, but what I made wasn't really my sound. I knew I wanted to do something, but I had to learn a bit more. I had to find my own style, you know? I like different styles, so I wanted to bring them all together.
Was there a time when you felt like giving up?
A few times. There were periods where I thought I couldn't do this anymore—it was too hard. But the Answer Code Request project gave me something of my own. That's what made me the happiest: that I found my own style.
Do you remember making "Escape Myself?"
I was in my old apartment on Anklamer Strasse—it was very small. It was really dark outside and there was a fight between a couple who lived downstairs. It was a crazy night. They were always fighting, but this time they were so loud that the police came. I think I started with the bassline melody, and then put a layer on top with the same MIDI. Then I played around with the beats.
Is that your usual process?
Usually, but sometimes I start with the beat and then play around with the MIDI. The bassline is always very important. It has to be warm.
I get a strong sense of feeling from the basslines in your music.
The bass might be the most important thing in my productions. It brings all the groove, and you can hear things that you might not if it wasn't there. But it's never at the front of the track, it sits further back.
The basslines on your tracks sound like they're from the '90s.
A lot of people tell me this. I don't plan it this way, it's just because of where I feel the bass should sit and how it should sound. I sometimes use an effect—maybe some distortion—but not too much. It still has to feel warm.
Generally basslines are very different now compared with the '90s.
It's because of the compression. The new basslines are already heavily compressed, then the mastering squashes it more, which swallows the bass. This is what I hear when producers use too many effects on their tracks. People want it better, fatter and harder, but in the end it doesn't work.
Were you into straight 4/4 techno? I can't imagine you dancing to loop techno for hours.
That's boring for me. You need to tell a story in your sets, so when I hear only straight 4/4 techno there's nothing for me. Maybe it's because I'm older and I need something a bit deeper—plus breaky stuff—that goes in different directions.

I feel like your music, more than most techno, is about feelings. Lots of techno is about using loops to create a hypnotic effect, whereas Answer Code Request has a focus on melodies.
I need melodies in my productions. Sometimes I feel bored by this trippy stuff. Of course it can be really nice, there are a lot of great productions in that style, but I need some other elements, like breaks. There should always be a warm bassline, which helps with the groove.
And unlike most techno these days, which often feels a lot darker, I think your music is bright and warm.
The first productions weren't so bright. People actually say that they hope my new stuff is more like those darker tracks, but I'm not so depressed anymore. I don't want everything to be dark. Of course, I'm a resident at Berghain, and people will associate me with techno. But I want to show it's not always about banging, dark music. There's something else we can also enjoy—breaks, melodies. And it works, because people need a break from this repetitive techno sound.
Inigo Kennedy once told me that everyone loves a great rhythm, but people only remember the melodies when the night is over.
There's something special about them. They help tell the story.
Did you ever DJ with a more functional sound?
I always mixed it up—drum & bass, house, techno. I need those different styles. You can play straightforward, but it's more important to really show something about yourself. When I play at a festival I usually start with something more straightforward. But once I get a feeling for the soundsystem and the crowd I can be more creative.
When did you make the tracks for Gens?
I started keeping ideas not long after Code came out in 2014. The last two years—because of travelling more and the kids—were more stressful, but when Ostgut asked about a second album I thought, OK, maybe that's a sign to do another one. So during the last two years I found some more old stuff. But I never produced with a concept for an album in mind. I just checked all the tracks that I had and sent 20 to Ostgut. We decided on 12 for the final album, so I changed the arrangement of a few and took some elements out of some others. "Orarum" and "Mora" originally had beats, but they sounded better without. Sometimes pads, bass and some atmosphere is all a track needs.

How is it making music with the kids at home?
Annoying [laughs]. No, not really. Sometimes it's funny, but you can't work when they are at home. I have a really small studio but there's a lot of stuff in there, so there's not enough space. After our second kid came into our lives we have more things inside the apartment. One kid's room is next to my studio, so when he's not at kindergarten he's at home and I can't work. Every time one of them comes to me and asks a question or wants to do something, "Daddy, daddy!" I can only work during the night or in the daytime when they are in kindergarten.
So do you mostly produce in the night or day?
On the plane [laughs]. And in the hotel. The ideas come at home, but I can do the arrangements elsewhere. Also on the couch in the evening. When I travel for gigs, I always take my laptop so I can work on music when it's a bit more relaxed. But all the main ideas came under pressure.
That's what happens when you have kids, you need to be versatile.
Other people I know go to the studio in the morning and leave in the evening. They have so much time. When I get time I think to myself, I have to really work now.
Would you like to have an endless amount of time to work on music, or do you enjoy these time restrictions?
I think the restrictions bring pressure. You might have to finish something, so when you do find the time—even if it's 30 minutes—you might work faster than someone who's in the studio for 12 hours a day. Those people have time and a big studio—quiet and peaceful—with everything that they need, so they don't feel any pressure. But I feel this pressure, so my brain is working differently. When you realise it's three o'clock and the kids will be home soon, you have to work fast.
And what about DJing? Do you take all the gigs you can get, or do you say no to things so you can spend more time with your family?
At the moment I take as much as I can. It's not four gigs per week like some DJs, but two over a weekend is OK. You can leave Friday evening and come back Sunday morning. Of course I'm not here on the weekend, but the kids are young and we can do things during the week together. We also go on holiday to Asia, for example.

The music you make is pretty abstract and intelligent, so how do you balance that with the need to make money for the family? You could make functional techno and play functional DJ sets and probably get bigger gigs and more money.
But that's not what I want. I want to have my passion and love inside my productions, not just what other people want on the dance floor. I want to do music because I want to show people where I come from and what I feel. I know people do a lot for money, but money is not the most important thing in the world. It can also be bad. And I still love playing techno at parties—I went to a lot in the '90s. Of course I'm not as young anymore, but I love to see people dancing. It's nice to have more gigs, but the balance is great right now.
Facebook and Instagram also helps people get gigs.
I only try and put what is necessary on social media, the things people need to know. The music has to talk, not my face.
I can imagine it would be strange for artists like you coming from a more old-school approach, where social media didn't influence how popular DJs were.
It's not necessary to tell people, "I've been there, I'm going there." Of course before a tour it's important to tell everyone where you play, but people are posting so much now. Social media can destroy a lot of things. The music should be first, but it feels like it's in third place at the moment. That's why I feel it's important for people like me to push the music back to the front. A lot of people post photos from studios full of gear—modulars, synths, all the new things. But I think, OK, where is the music? People should enjoy producing more, and not feel pressured to do this social media thing.
Do you feel frustrated by how things have changed?
I don't feel frustrated but I think it's destroying the music. I don't know where it will go from here. DJing and producing gets easier and easier every year, so I have the feeling that more people are coming up. But do they really have the passion for it, or do they just see other DJs posting pictures of nice places? Music should be the most important thing, but it's not easy at the moment—it's all about straightforward techno. Maybe I could make more money by doing functional techno tracks, but in the end it's more important for me to have a good feeling about what I do.

What about music gives you the most satisfaction?
It makes me happy when people speak to me about my productions, because this comes from my heart. It's part of what I want to say about music. With DJing, it's nice to play sets but you're playing music from other people. If someone tells me that I play different music from the other DJs they see, that makes me happy. The travelling is also great, because it was my dream to see the world. I told my parents, I will see the world soon. It took a while—15 years—but they are happy about what I'm doing now. In the end, I made it. Of course, I don't always get to see the cities I visit, only the hotel, plane and club. But this is what I wanted.
How old were you when you moved to Berlin?
I was 22. I made the Subway Into EP in 2010.
How many tracks did you send to Marcel Dettmann before this release?
I sent him a lot of bullshit [laughs]. But then he recognised these tracks, which were totally different from the others I sent. At the beginning I sent him more dance floor-style tracks, but they didn't work. It wasn't really the right music, and it wasn't good enough. But then I started to do this mix between the genres I loved—breakbeat, drum & bass, house, techno—and experimented with that.
What kind of advice did Marcel give you?
He gave me a lot. One I always remember was to take your favourite things from tracks you really love, listen to them and then make music with them in mind. I tried it and realised that he was right. It's great advice. You can take inspiration from old favourites, not whatever is popular at the moment. I want to tell some people sometimes, why do you always copy, copy, copy? Can't you just make what you really love?
Why do you think people are so quick to follow the current sound?
Part of the problem is the media. People get fame quickly, so you can start from nothing and have thousands of followers the next day. They're not thinking about the music. You can do something with samples in Ableton very fast, but they don't have the right passion. Are you really enjoying producing, or is it about bringing things out quickly? Of course, I also made some mistakes in the beginning, and I wasn't always happy about my productions. But now I really know what I want. There's no big hype and it's still underground. People need to find their own way, because otherwise you hear 100 people doing the same thing. I can't do that.

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