Recurring Fantasy is a sonic exploration born from my time spent in Berlin. Over the last two visits I’ve made there, I found myself wandering the city's streets, soaking in the energy, the chaos, and the quiet moments that often go unnoticed. But it wasn’t just the city itself that inspired me—it was the sounds I discovered there. Analog, forgotten, and full of texture, those tapes became a window into a world that felt as fragmented and dreamlike as my own thoughts.
I created Recurring Fantasy using just my laptop and modular synths, two instruments that allowed me to bend sound into shapes I hadn’t imagined before. I felt like I was piecing together a collage of my own mind, stitching together fragments of melodies and textures into something cohesive but not quite whole. Each track is a reflection of a moment in Berlin: a walk down a narrow alley, the hum of a subway station, the reverberation of distant conversations. The city’s influence is there, but it's wrapped in a sense of dreamlike abstraction.
But despite the album being finished, I held onto it for a year. I wasn’t sure if it was ready. I wasn’t sure if I was ready. It was like releasing a part of myself that I wasn't quite ready to share with the world, a bit like holding an injured sea lion in my hands—careful, unsure, but hopeful. I wanted to wait until it was "healed"—until I felt ready to let it live on its own in the world.
Now, a year later, I realize that the hesitation was a part of the journey. The album is its own thing now, its life no longer tied to my doubt. Just as the sealion eventually returns to the sea, Recurring Fantasy is now free to roam, to evolve, and to find its place in the world. It feels like letting go—not of the music itself, but of the fear that once held it back.
This album is no longer just mine; it’s yours to experience, interpret, and feel. And I’m no longer afraid of what that means. It’s time to release it into the world and let it make its own waves.
Stream it on Spotify by clicking the image below.
