Artist Spotlight: CO:LOG – Shoot By Mistake (LF003)

When I originally put out a call for producers to join me on this coaching journey back in May, I naively expected most of the people who responded to be middle-aged producers like myself, still flying the flag and trying to squeeze a few more tracks out of whatever time and energy we have left. So when John's email landed in my inbox, I was immediately caught off guard. Not just because of his age, which I would find out later, but because the music attached to that email was so much more developed and complex than I was expecting. I was genuinely taken back by how accomplished it was... his technical ability was obvious, but so was the depth of his ideas, the density of his arrangements, and, perhaps most importantly, a sense that John already had a very clear musical identity of his own.

Then I found out he was 19.

That completely caught me off guard. There's obviously no shortage of young producers making interesting music, but John's work felt different in a way that was difficult to dismiss as simply promising. There was something strangely familiar about it too, although not in the sense that it sounded derivative or like an attempt to recreate something that had come before. Instead, I kept hearing hints of music that captivated me in my youth. Ideas, textures and a certain sense of possibility that had left a lasting impression on me seemed to have somehow survived all those years and found their way into someone who wasn't even alive when much of it was being made. It was a strange feeling... hearing something that felt both deeply familiar and completely new at the same time.

John has only been producing for around three years, yet he's already thinking about music in ways that go well beyond the mechanics of making a track. Our conversations have touched on creativity, technology, identity, emotion and the strange relationship between making music and trying to understand yourself. And what strikes me most is that so much of this seems to come naturally to him. I'm increasingly aware that what I'm hearing might only be an early glimpse of what he's ultimately capable of. It's also given me a strong desire to help in whatever small way I can, because when someone this young comes along with this much ability and curiosity, you can't help but feel invested in seeing where that curiosity might lead them.

The more we talked, the more I realised that the music was only part of the story. So rather than try to explain it for him, I'll let John take it from here.

John, when we first started working together, one of the things you were struggling with was getting your music past that point where it felt good but still wasn't quite finished. One thing you've mentioned in our conversations is that you're very comfortable getting a track to that 80% point, but the final stage... the polishing, transitions, ear candy, mixing, mastering, and ultimately calling the track finished... feels much more daunting. What do you think makes that last 20% so difficult for you, and why do you think you've found it easier to create the music than to finish it?

I'm completely in love with the interstitial process music plays in regards to organising my emotions; it has served me this way for years. The final 20% is relatively unrelated to this, trialing skills which were, until recently, personally untested. Our conversations helped me become much less afraid of the final 20% by walking me through the mixing/mastering process while emphasising the importance of finding a personal approach. On that note, I'd honestly say fear/unfamiliarity alone was holding me back.

That fear of the final stage is something that is very universal. Looking back on our sessions, what do you think actually changed for you, both practically and creatively?

What was extremely helpful was your explanation of the logistical side of completing tracks. The real takeaway from our sessions, however, was understanding that you had (without me realising it) set me off down many long and helpful thought trails.

Having someone like-minded who believed in me was also crucial to my recent output. Creative sessions have felt like falling asleep and waking up with finished tracks. The unconventional routines, rituals, and general thought processes behind my creativity have been validated. Making music is no longer a matter of how can I fulfil this expectation? Rather, it is an exercise in trusting my intuition without question.

That change seems to have had a pretty direct effect on your output. You're now working towards actual releases, rather than just accumulating unfinished ideas. Has working toward an actual release changed the way you listen to your own music, or the way you think about what it means for a track to be "finished"?

Working towards a release has made me more conscious of how erratic my mind can be; spawning ideas out of left field and demanding their immediate manifestation in audio. I've learned to stop letting ideas take advantage of me. After some of our thoughtful conversations, I now have a security checkpoint in the back of my mind and tell them to wait patiently for their time (though I'm still training myself in this process). A finished track, to me, is one that has fully conveyed an idea or a thoughtful progression of ideas. I don't really think of my work expectantly. Once a track has helped me process a problem I have, it's time for the next one.

That idea of making a track as a way of processing something seems to connect quite closely with the way you've described creativity more generally. You're naturally drawn toward creation, but you've also talked about how spending long periods in that creative world can change the way reality feels afterwards. How do you understand that relationship between making music and experiencing the world around you?

I'm not sure I'm consciously trying to do anything. I'm just naturally drawn to creation; I yearn for it in transitional moments where I'm forced into anything else. Reality doesn't really feel like something I should try to understand. I would prefer reality to be a huge unknown and I hope it stays as such until I die... this way, it is larger and can satisfy my curiosity more often. There is essence to life worth exploring, but it slips itself into my music and never makes itself known to my conscious mind. It paints my life afterwards with a feeling which I've always compared loosely to filtering a photo: logically, everything seems normal; but the hues and dynamics of my experience change.

Technology seems to sit right in the middle of that relationship with the world. You've described it as something that's unmistakably beneficial to creativity, while also contributing to derealization, alienation, and a sense of distance from the world around you. How has your relationship with technology developed over your life, and how do you think spending so much time inside a technologically enhanced creative world affects the way you experience the real one?

My relationship with technology has been almost constant throughout my life. I don't remember a time when it wasn't relevant, so it's difficult to compare what my experience would be like without such technological enhancement. I'm confident in saying it is the way I experience the world which leads to this derealization, and spending time in my creative world is simply the most comfortable safety.

That tension between technology and the human also seems to run through a lot of the imagery you're drawn to... Serial Experiments Lain, Ghost in the Shell, Blade Runner, cyberpunk. What is it about that space between the technological and the human that feels so emotionally powerful to you?

I was stuck on this question for a while. It's unsettling to realize you don't know why you find an influence so powerful. I have, however, always romanticized technology. I think technology has the potential to enhance one's creativity to an insane degree. Additionally, Sci-fi worlds are vast in their intrigue and storytelling potential. I grew up on basically only Isaac Asimov and Arthur C.Clarke books as a kid; it's interesting to notice the where boundaries between humanity and technology lie in these tales. Mostly it's awe; but I simply also love futurist aesthetics.

You're also drawn to older visions of the future... Y2K, vaporwave, 80s/90s imagery, retro-futurism. What do you think makes the future feel more emotionally interesting when it's viewed through the lens of the past?

It's nice to be living in a time of older aesthetics' focus. It feels great to give power to the artist by embracing the vision they had for our current world - even if it may have been inaccurate. We are also all bound to return to these aesthetics recursively now, since they cannot be invented again. Every good creative work is built upon the foundations of its predecessors. So I think the emotional interest comes from mystery and appreciation; the honour of being able to continue ideas which were conceived before your time.

That idea of continuing and transforming things that already exist seems to come through in the way you approach your musical influences too. You talked about 2814 and imagining what their ambient music would sound like "layered with breaks, and with more progression." How often does your music begin with the question, "What if this thing I love was something else?"

I am very interested in imagining the circumstances my influences might have fallen into when they created their best tracks. How can I (in my own world) replicate what they might have seen in their world to have conveyed such a powerful feeling through their work? A curiosity in the way we perceive emotion is that there are infinite emotional states of mind to choose from. With enough conditioning and experience, you can stay immersed in these as you work creatively. Language doesn't do this idea much justice, I often wonder why we have such a small set of descriptors to choose from. It is extremely fortunate that we have music as a means to fill this void; I can ask 'what if this emotional composite I love was personalized, explored further, etc'. This is a question I very frequently ask.

You talk about using music to explore emotional states that are difficult to put into words, and that seems closely tied to the idea of finding your own musical language. You've mentioned that you've only been producing for around three years, and yet your music already has a remarkably developed identity. Do you feel like you've found your sound, or does it feel more like you're chasing something you can hear in your head but haven't completely managed to capture it yet?

I have a guiding star in my head that pulls at equal speed to its withdrawal. This sounds pretentious; but it's very real. Being creative is a terribly unromantic journey that never relents. It's the only 'acceptable' way to be a neurotic loser. So most of the time I feel like I'm being led further away from everyone else by my guiding star but closer to some concept unconquered by language, and there I will find my music's true identity.

If that guiding star keeps pulling you toward something language can't reach, it makes sense that you wouldn't want to pin yourself down. You're studying music, building an album, learning instruments, buying hardware, and experimenting with going DAWless... you're exploring a lot of different sides of being a musician and producer at the moment. Do you feel any pressure to figure out what kind of artist you want to be, or are you deliberately trying not to define yourself yet?

I'll never define myself. I'm hoping to one day fuse all of the avenues you've mentioned, allowing me to flawlessly represent anything I feel in audio. Any perception of my work beyond the feeling I assign to tracks is up to others to decide.

That also raises an interesting question about how much of you might change as the music develops. You're at a point where your instincts and tastes are already quite established, but there's still so much room for them to evolve. Are you excited by the idea that the person who makes your fifth album might be almost unrecognizable compared with the person making your first one? Or is there something about your current perspective that you'd be afraid of losing?

I don't have much of a personality. I lose and gain perspective erratically every day and the only way I stay grounded is through music, so wherever the music takes me is paramount. I think my fifth album will orbit my guiding star. My current album is viewing it through a telescope.

Your current album seems to be one place where all of these ideas are beginning to converge. But before we get to that, I'd like to talk about "Shoot By Mistake." What influenced or inspired you to make the track, and what do you hope listeners hear that isn't necessarily obvious from the music itself?

Shoot By Mistake loosely began as an amalgamation of my prior unreleased tracks' best patches. It is also part of a recent batch of projects which I created following some unsettling dreams around my identity. When I have an enigmatic dream, I find it difficult to shake the feeling that lingers; the dream will often shift my reality for multiple weeks unless I make sense of it. Shoot By Mistake served as a neatly packaged container into which I vacuumed my derealization and confusion. I hope listeners can appreciate the gritty catharsis I tried so hard to capture.

Now that you're moving beyond individual tracks and into your debut album, where does all of this leave you and what can we expect from you in the near future?

I'm now comfortably working through the debut album I've dreamed of since I began making music, with much real progress already visible.

John, it's been an absolute pleasure working with you through this process. I genuinely look forward to our sessions, not just for the coaching side of things, but for the conversations that inevitably end up taking us down some rabbit hole of music production, plugins, hardware, or whatever else we've become obsessed with that week. It's been a real pleasure getting to know you and watching the ideas start to take shape, and I'm genuinely excited to see where you take things from here. I have no doubt that your passion, curiosity and talent will take you a long way, and I'm very happy to be along for the ride.

Shoot By Mistake is out now on Latent : Forms. –