How do you two know each other? At what point did you realize that you should be working on music together?
DJH: We’ve ambiently known each other since around 2016, back in the glory days of the mimetic mist of early SoundCloud music. We eventually met in real life around 2021 and have been really good friends ever since. We have a lot of mutual touchstones and enjoy similar art and literature. Jasper’s always putting me on to novel, interesting, and bizarre things.
Helica: Philip is one of the first people I spoke to when putting out music, nine or ten years ago. I loved his albums Sanguine and Inflicter. I felt that he was combining image and sound in such a vivid way that few people were doing. It’s very textural, keyed, and emotional. We share a lot of sensibilities, and talked about making something for a long time.
You worked on this project in multiple countries. Did this affect how the record turned out, either sonically or conceptually?
DJH: I live in Cologne, Germany at the moment and Jasper is from London. We made the majority of the record IRL in Cologne and in various strange locations in London. I think the geographical disconnect forced us to really hone our intentions in terms of what we wanted to do, since we only ever had a couple of days to write and record music. It was quite an enjoyable process, especially for me, since I’m usually collaborating with people online.
Helica: It pushes me a lot when I work with someone. I’m very slow on my own! Most of this record was made in the same room, but some of the lyrics began a while before. I was writing bits and pieces whenever I couldn’t sleep. A few of those fragments really fit this new atmosphere we were building.
Did this collaboration “unlock” anything for either of you—did working together allow you to move into any new creative territory that might’ve been difficult for you to reach on your own?
DJH: Definitely. Jasper’s voice and perspective on songwriting are so unique. I’ve known his stuff for so long and can trace a clear throughline from his earlier works to the themes present on this record, so it’s been really inspiring for me to imagine the sonic scaffolding around it and let it guide the way. The songs all started out as these insular bits that conveyed a strong sense of place to me, so I feel like I subconsciously leaned into heightening this feeling of transience—passing through multiple strange locales.
Helica: I couldn’t have made this on my own. I started another album almost four years ago, and it’s taken so long to finish. But I’ve found it’s more fulfilling to work with friends, with Philip, or The Suntrap stuff … There’s a lot more spontaneity. Which I don’t always like, but I know is good for me.
Could you talk about the forthcoming video for “Dot Fly”?
Helica: We wanted it to be kind of blank. I think with videos, you have to be careful with the imagery you use. Certain motifs or whatever can look a bit charged, or they don’t suit the song. I’ve spent years going back and forth on doing videos because I was overthinking it … The song is a bit elusive and we wanted the visuals not to commit to any one idea. We were going for something stripped back, and to play with natural light, having it collide with shadow. Kari directed it, and she’s great at making abstract visuals using everyday environments.
Can you remember how “LUCILLE” came together? That song sounds special.
Helica: I’m always on a train or a bus somewhere, so traversal has found its way into my writing. I think a lot of the day-to-day is being in these weird, transitory spaces, and I like imagining strange subtexts radiating around us. I get bored! "Lucille" grew from that and became its own narrative, a kind of doomed voyage. But I wanted there to be a calming presence, like a friend or sibling you can lean on—”Lucille and I.”
Question about another forthcoming tune: What is “CAPSULE” about?
Helica: I used to work in this office right next to an orbital motorway. It was in a town just outside of London, and I had to take the train there. If you've ever seen the UK show The Office, it looked just like that. It was opposite a giant Costco too, quite miserable and funny. But I used to like it because I’d be commuting away from the city, and there was hardly anyone on the trains. So it felt like I was hiding away in my own corner.
Around the same time, I found this book Beyond Black by Hilary Mantel, about a psychic travelling around motorway towns. It opens with images like, “Fields of strung wire, fridges dead on their backs … and the Heathrow sheep, their fleece clotted with the stench of aviation fuel.” She takes the ideal of the “green and pleasant” and totally trashes it. I guess I’ve always been interested in those disharmonies: nature and industry, grass and metal, air and smog. I think they create very stark images.
You are planning on playing some live shows around this collaboration. What does your dream live situation look like?
DJH: We have been experimenting with live setups—so far it was Jasper on vocals and me playing a synth through pedals and triggering samples on a live sequencer. It would be cool to include a more varied array of live instruments in the future. Playing a show on a decommissioned offshore oil rig is also something I’ve been subconsciously pondering for a while. Maybe we could tap the Principality of Sealand lol.
Is there a snack or beverage that you think defines the time you spent working on this record?
DJH: Greggs pasties and various meal deal slop foods definitely sustained the UK portion of the process.
Helica: I need everyone to look up the menu for the rogue Dairy Queen in Moorhead, Minnesota.
Photo credit: @qkcet