I’ve always lived in between — between cultures, between sounds, between worlds. That’s where my music lives.

I come from a time when music still felt like magic. In the 80s and 90s, making music was more about intuition than intention — you followed a feeling, not a formula. There was unpredictability in the process, and somehow, that made it more human.

I grew up with that mindset: that sound wasn’t something to perfect, but something to explore. Over the years, the tools became sharper, the systems more precise, and I kept evolving with them. But part of me still misses the beautiful flaws, the rawness, the quiet joy of not knowing exactly what would happen.

That’s the place I still return to — not out of nostalgia, but because something real lives there. Between memory and progress, between structure and soul, that’s where my music finds its voice.