
D1RT TH13F arrived at electronic music by way of indie rock, folk, pop and soundtrack work, and he still approaches a house track with a songwriter’s ear. Since moving from Portland to Mexico City, he has traded a studio full of instruments and tape machines for a much smaller setup, while drawing fresh rhythmic ideas from his surroundings.
In the following interview, he talks about the records that shaped him, the value of getting things slightly wrong and why stripping parts away was the key production decision on his latest single, “Hold On”.
Before D1RT TH13F, you’d spent years writing and producing across indie rock, folk, pop and soundtrack work. Which parts of that experience have proved most useful now that you’re making electronic music?
Probably songwriting and arrangement more than anything. I still approach electronic music as a songwriter. I’m thinking about hooks, melody, where something needs to change, when something has hung around too long. I don’t really think, “this is house music so now this thing is supposed to happen.”
And I’ve spent years recording instruments, so I’m comfortable throwing guitars or bass or whatever into something electronic. I don’t really distinguish that much between electronic and non-electronic sounds. If it works, it works.
Your influences stretch well beyond house, from post-punk and ambient music to West African and Latin sounds. Are there particular artists or records from outside electronic music that have had a lasting impact on how you produce?
Loads. Boubacar Traoré is probably one of the biggest influences on me. Ali Farka Touré as well. I love how repetitive that music can be without becoming boring. It just sort of pulls you in.
I listen to quite a lot of mbaqanga and South African guitar music too. The guitars are incredibly rhythmic and everything sort of interlocks. That has definitely found its way into how I think about groove.
Then Joy Division, dub, soul, Morcheeba, William Orbit, weird Vietnamese records from the 60s and 70s. Whatever, really. My listening habits are all over the place. I don’t particularly care what genre something belongs to.
Usually I’m more interested in something with personality than something that’s technically flawless.
Buy: www.beatport.com/artist/d1rt-th13f/2436881
How has your studio setup changed since starting D1RT TH13F? Have you deliberately changed the tools you use, or is it more about approaching familiar equipment differently?
It’s drastically smaller now. Basically a MIDI controller, a UA Apollo interface and some guitars.
That’s mostly because I moved from Portland to Mexico. In Portland I had a giant tape machine, drum kits, 30-plus guitars, synths and loads of other stuff. Bringing all of that to Mexico obviously wasn’t practical.
It’s actually been kind of interesting being forced to work with less. Most things are in the box now and then I’ll add real instruments when I want them. Eventually I’d like to build a proper studio here in Ciudad de México and start collecting stuff again. I miss having all the toys around, but apparently I can make records without them.
Hold On leaves a lot of room around its keys, vocal and percussion. How do you judge when an arrangement has enough in it, particularly when you have the ability as a multi-instrumentalist to keep adding more?
Badly, sometimes. My instinct is usually to add things, so a lot of the process is adding too much and then getting rid of it.
If I start losing whatever made me excited about the song in the first place, that’s normally a sign I’ve gone too far. Or if I’m listening to all the individual parts instead of the song.
I’m getting better at leaving things alone. A couple of good ideas are usually more interesting than fifteen things showing everyone you know how to produce.
You’ve described D1RT TH13F as a way of working without too many rules. Does that extend to the technical side of production? Are you someone who enjoys getting things slightly wrong if the result sounds interesting?
Yeah, completely. If the “wrong” way sounds better then I don’t really understand why I’d do it the right way.
There are obviously technical mistakes that just sound bad, but there are also loads of things people tell you you’re not supposed to do that sound great. Timing doesn’t have to be perfect. Something can distort. Something can be slightly ugly.
There’s so much production advice now that I think people can end up making records according to a checklist. I’m not very interested in that. I like accidents.

You’ve done a significant amount of soundtrack work. Has thinking about music in relation to images changed the way you use texture, space or dynamics in your electronic productions?
Probably. Soundtrack work makes you think a lot about mood without necessarily having to announce what you’re doing. Sometimes a tiny sound in the background can completely change how something feels. I really like that sort of thing. Sounds that you don’t necessarily notice until someone mutes them.
It also probably made me more comfortable with space. Not everything has to be enormous or happening all the time. Silence and emptiness are useful.
You’ve lived and made music in Belfast, Portland and Mexico City. Looking back, are there specific scenes, musicians or periods in those places that changed the way you thought about making music?
Blur, Pulp, Supergrass and Oasis were massively influential on me. That Cool Britannia period was happening when I was young and it really stuck. I’ve always loved a catchy hook. I still look for that regardless of what kind of music I’m making.
Portland obviously inched its way into my musical subconscious because I lived there for so long, but I never really felt at home in the nerdier indie scene there. That’s not a criticism. I’ve just always been a bit too abrasive for the nice middle-class music that tends to gestate in Portland. I’ve mellowed with age, but I still fancy my rock stars as larger than life.
Mexico has affected me much more rhythmically. One thing I’ve learned here is that a hook doesn’t necessarily have to be melodic. It can just be a rhythm that gets stuck in your head. That sounds obvious once you say it, but it changed the way I write.
When you listen back to Hold On, is there a particular production decision or small detail that feels important to the record but might easily pass unnoticed on a first listen?
Probably all the little movement around the vocal. There aren’t actually that many things happening, but little bits of percussion and texture come in and out and things move around in the stereo field.
I wanted it to feel like it was moving without constantly having to add another big section or another obvious part.
I think restraint was probably the main thing with that song. There were definitely versions with more stuff in them. They weren’t better.

