Speaking from his Hamburg studio, Stimming discusses the hardware behind his live show, the early days of Diynamic, the freedom of Fusion Festival, his connection with South Africa, and the changing culture around making and discovering music.
Your live show is very different from a conventional DJ set. What is actually happening on stage?
For me, it feels like a concert by a one-man band. I have three or four small machines playing together, including samplers, a tiny mixer and, importantly, a real synthesiser. I have a big range for improvisation, and I don’t have a computer on stage.
I hate seeing performers looking at a computer screen. Of course, I’m looking at machines instead, so perhaps it’s not completely different, but they feel more like instruments. I’m a musician, and that’s what I embrace. Because it’s spontaneous, it doesn’t work perfectly every time. I need that allowance for failure. That’s what keeps it interesting.
How practical is that setup when you are travelling?
It all has to fit into my carry-on luggage, which rules out some synthesisers. Hard equipment cases attract attention at customs because they look valuable. So when I travel I try not to look like a musician at all. I look like a boring businessman, with leather shoes and everything. Nobody would guess what I’m doing at night.
How did meeting Solomun help turn music into a professional career?
I came to Hamburg straight after school and was still very young. Through someone I was working with, I met Solomun and Adriano Trolio. They came to our studio, and Solomun played some of the records he was DJing at the time. I went into the main studio, listened properly and really liked what he was playing. We arranged to meet again and make music. The collaboration fed into Diynamic’s first release, and I produced its opening track. That was the point at which it became professional for me.
Which performances have been particular career highlights for you?
One of the most impressive early gigs was in Auckland, in an old pizza place. The atmosphere was incredible. The promoters had a typewriter where people could write down their bad thoughts and then put the paper through a shredder. At the back was a huge pile of shredded paper, which was a complete fire hazard. The promoter recently wrote to me again. He’s doing a proper festival now, so they obviously knew what they were doing.
Maybe the biggest gig of my career was Fusion Festival. I closed the main stage and was supposed to play for two hours, but I ended up playing for three. There were thousands of people, but the festival is designed so you don’t really recognise how huge it is. When I stopped, the technicians were telling me to carry on.
What makes Fusion feel so different from other major festivals?
Fusion is totally free-spirited. It’s basically like Burning Man without the phones. You don’t see many pictures or videos because it’s not made for that. There’s very little media coverage and no branding. It’s a niche while, in fact, it’s not. That’s what I like. It’s for people interested in something outside the mainstream.
What are your thoughts on phone-free clubs and dancefloors?
In Berlin, it was usual for clubs to put stickers over phone cameras. It’s a mixed bag. I usually play at parties where phones aren’t welcome, so from the promotional side it’s a downside because I don’t have much material. But the authenticity matters. Everybody is there in the moment.
Why do you think your music connected so strongly in South Africa?
I believe there was something in my music that resonated strongly in South Africa, particularly back then. It was the groove. My music was more soulful, with quite a lot of shuffle, but not so much that it became two-step or UK style. It was a very musical approach to house, and that musicality resonated with South Africans more than it did elsewhere because people there are so musically educated. They love a good song, and they love it when they can dance to it.
How did your collaboration with The Lazarusman begin?
I think The Lazarusman is the main reason I became so popular in South Africa. In the beginning, even South Africans didn’t realise that the voice they were hearing was South African. He reached out to me on Facebook around 2007, right at the end of MySpace, when Facebook was only just beginning. I seem to remember that he sent some audio as well. Our first track together was ‘Funk With Me’.
What do you remember about those first performances in South Africa?
One of my earliest performances there came not long after the release of ‘Funk With Me’, at what I think was called the Lighthouse. It was this crazy party on the twentieth floor of a high-rise. Then somebody used pepper spray and the whole place had to be evacuated. Suddenly everyone was running to get out, and I remember being terrified for my equipment.
Truth in Johannesburg was another of the most impressive gigs I ever had. It’s the club where I play whenever I perform in the city, and the response there was overwhelming. It took around half an hour for everyone to get a photograph with me. People were grabbing me and telling me how much they loved the music. I was totally overwhelmed by it.
What has changed most for young producers since you started?
The amount of music released every day has exploded. For young producers, being heard through that white noise, that almost unlistenable volume of music, is very difficult. The democratisation of the tools has caused a media explosion. How do you become the spike that people recognise? It’s getting increasingly difficult.
How have algorithms changed the way people discover music?
Spotify is designed like background radio. It stays in the same style and feeds you more and more of the same thing. The first five or ten tracks are good, and then it narrows out. It doesn’t surprise you anymore. It just feeds you what you already know, even if it’s a subgenre. It’s like McDonald’s, basically.
On one hand, there’s a media explosion. On the other, algorithms decide what we’re going to listen to. I don’t believe in algorithms when it comes to creativity. You also have to be your own promoter much more than ten years ago. Being visible on social media is as important as making good music or delivering a good set on stage.
What are your thoughts on artificial intelligence in music?
I’m not afraid of it because it doesn’t have the type of creativity I’m looking for, or that I feel a duty to perform. My aim when I get up in the morning is to invent something new, and artificial intelligence is pretty bad at that.
What are you working towards now?
I’m actively working on new house music and reinventing how it should sound. It will be faster and more energetic. I tried harder-sounding techno, but it wasn’t me. Music that’s too mild doesn’t resonate anymore either. The tempo, texture and approach will change, but the core is still telling musically interesting stories.
I also want to make headphone music, something made for your brain and for listening. Maybe it can give you an opportunity to wander with your mind. Just the brain, not the body.
