Who gets to define one’s art? It’s an important and often asked question. In a consumer-focused world where art is abundant, labels are vital for discovery, but building a model based on discovery at all costs can inhibit creativity as artists put themselves in boxes under increasing pressure to be seen. Not everyone is willing to play that game, however, and for producers such as London’s Kilig, a more counter-cultural approach can be a powerful motivator.
Now, let’s pause for a moment. There’s nothing inherently wrong with going through the motions. It’s what you do whilst you’re there that counts, and Kilig’s work is a perfect example of how beautiful art can be when creative control stays where it should.
His inaugural release came in 2019 via Thomas Ragsdale’s Soundtracking The Void, showcasing the versatility of his palette. From there, Kilig’s experimental sound became a symbol of resistance against the playlist-friendly categorisation that many artists fall victim to.
As an artist, Kilig prefers to sit within the grey areas. In his earlier days, he was an enigma of sorts. There was little known about him apart from his emotionally driven UK sound, which fused UKG, Jungle, Trip-Hop, and more. With each release, however, his approach morphed into more fully fleshed-out projects instead of simple records. Now, he frames each entry through a visual and emotional lens and creates worlds designed to be listened to intently.
His latest release, “Robots Will Take Over and Wonder Why We Have So Many Group Chats And So Few Hospitals,” sees him return to a similar form. Musically, he weaves a multitude of influences to create a soundtrack that fuses ambient, glitch, and electronica with his signature melancholic world-building sound. It’s transportational music bathed in futurism that will send your imagination to faraway places if you let it. In our interview, Kilig shares his process for making the album, its peculiar name, and his return to a more DIY approach.
What was your inspiration for the project?
I booked a date for my debut live show. Normally, I would sit and write about what I’m feeling or make stuff that has elements of things that inspire me. But with this, it was a ‘oh fuck, we have X amount of days until we do this show, I need to make some new music that works for specific moments and visuals.’ I wouldn’t advise people to write that way, but we got there in the end.
How did you put this album together?
Almost all of these records were made at W1 Curates on Timber Street. Typically, I write a lot at home in my studio or on the move. This is probably the first time I’ve moved my creative process to a place less familiar to me.
What was the biggest challenge you faced whilst producing the record?
Time. With the show deadline approaching, anything I wanted to use HAD to be finished. It wasn’t taking your time and being really detailed and picky. It either worked or it didn’t. Anything that worked is still here. It was quite a savage process.
You said you feel the same way about this release as you did when you self-released your first tracks. What made this project so special to you?
I wanted to go back to enjoying the whole process. DIY, no gatekeepers, just the work I am proud of, and getting to show people that. I’ve spoken about it a few times, but it’s so true that the thing I am enjoying the most about this album is feeling very close to everyone who is listening to it, buying the record, or resonating with it in some way. The little things that you don’t get to see if a label is doing the legwork.
It all comes with its tradeoffs. It’s been A LOT of work. But I’m really proud of it.
The title is intriguing. Where did it come from?
It’s a funny title on the surface. I’ve always been a fan of those early 2000s emo song titles that are just ridiculously long – Fall Out Boy, Panic at The Disco type stuff (“The Only Difference Between Martyrdom and Suicide Is the Press Coverage” & “Our Lawyer Made Us Change The Name Of This Song So We Wouldn’t Get Sued” as a couple of examples.) But beneath the 4 am afters-chat level of it, it’s kind of a bleak look into human priorities, and I guess my frustrations with endless notifications.
The liner notes say it’s meant to be listened to in its entirety. What’s the core issue it’s addressing, and why does it matter to you?
I’m as guilty of this as anyone else, but my attention span is shite. I’m trying really hard to actively watch the long film or listen to a full album. The liner notes are there to remind people that this should flow like a live performance. You can flick around and listen to any of the songs in any order, but I’ve been really particular with why I’ve put certain songs where they are, and maybe you will enjoy it more if you sit and digest it that way. Or don’t and whack it on shuffle haha!
How did you make the album? What instruments or equipment were vital, and did you collaborate with anyone?
I was very fortunate with the equipment I could access whilst I made this. Stuff that I just never in my wildest dreams could buy. An original 808 and 909, a Moog One, and a lot of in-the-box VSTs and FXs were all pretty central to the whole thing. I love Fracture by Glitch Machines, which I think is free! Running any kind of foley-style percussive elements through generative FX units always brings some really unique results.
No collabs on this one. I really enjoy writing with other people and the randomness of collaborating with someone outside your musical sphere. But for this, I wanted to keep it close to home.
What’s next for Kilig?
The Carpet Shop – All Night Long – Friday 23rd October. It’s my first-ever all-nighter, and I’m so excited. I can’t give it all away, but there will be some elements of the night that won’t be typical of your usual club show, with a very theatrical and dark sound palette. You should come!
Purchase Robots Will Take Over And Wonder Why We Have So Many Group Chats And So Few Hospitals