A Q&A with holon
holon: Atmospheric progressive rock with emotional storytelling…
What’s the title of your latest release, and what does it mean to you?
The latest release is called ‘Silent City’, and it’s a particularly meaningful one because parts of it have been living with me for around fifteen years. The first section was written shortly after my marriage ended. My ex-wife had moved out and I spent Easter alone in Trondheim. Easter is normally an unusually quiet time here because a large part of the population disappears to their cabins or heads into the mountains to ski. That year, though, the silence felt almost overwhelming. The empty city seemed to amplify the loneliness I was already feeling. I sat inside with my acoustic guitar, and the basic chords and melody that became ‘Silent City’ appeared. Around ten years later, COVID gave the title an entirely different meaning. Trondheim became eerily quiet again, but this time the experience was collective rather than personal. By then my own life had changed completely: I had found love again and had a new partner, so I certainly wasn’t alone. If anything, lockdown sometimes made escaping downstairs into my studio rather appealing! That contrast eventually became the basis for the second half of the song. So ‘Silent City’ documents two very different periods of my life, separated by many years but connected by the same image of empty streets and the thoughts that become much louder when everything around you becomes quiet.
What was the hardest part about putting this release together, and why?
Probably keeping seventeen minutes built predominantly around two chords interesting!
That became a really enjoyable compositional challenge. Instead of relying on harmonic movement, I had to create development through rhythm, dynamics, instrumentation, texture and arrangement. The song changes character quite dramatically while the harmonic foundation remains surprisingly static. The other challenge was simply knowing when it was finished. This song existed in various forms for such a long time that there was always the possibility of discovering another direction it could take. At some point you have to accept that adding something doesn’t necessarily make the music better – it just makes it different.
Who produced the release – what did they bring to it? If you produced it yourselves, what do you enjoy most about producing your own material?
I produced it myself in my home studio. What I love about producing my own music is the freedom to follow ideas without knowing exactly where they’re going. I don’t normally begin a song with a complete picture of the finished arrangement. David Lynch, who is one of my artistic heroes, talked about creativity in a way I really relate to: ideas arrive as fragments, and by working on those fragments you gradually begin to see the larger piece. That’s very much how I work. I might have a melody, two chords or a rhythmic idea, but the rest reveals itself piece by piece. ‘Silent City’ is probably an extreme example of that because some of those pieces arrived about a decade apart. I should also mention Kjell Magne Robak, who plays cello on the track. His hauntingly beautiful playing adds an emotional dimension that I absolutely love and establishes so much of the atmosphere. And of course Geir Anfinn Halland Johansen plays drums and was unknowingly responsible for planting the seed that eventually became the second half of the composition.
What do you want the listener to take away from listening to your music?
Two things, really. I hope people can relate to the lyrics and find some part of their own experiences reflected in them. Most of what I write comes from things I’ve experienced or questions I’ve wrestled with myself, but once a song is released, I don’t think its meaning belongs exclusively to me anymore. Musically, I also hope people find the ideas stimulating. I love music that affects both the emotional and analytical parts of me – a beautiful melody or vulnerable performance combined with something unexpected rhythmically, harmonically or in the arrangement. If holon can make somebody both feel and think, I’m pretty happy.
How does a track normally come together? Can you tell us something about the process?
Most of my songs begin in a remarkably unglamorous way: I’m bored and noodling around on an acoustic guitar. Eventually something makes my ears perk up – a chord progression, melody or rhythm – and I’ll record the idea before it disappears. From there I take it into the studio and gradually start building around it. I don’t usually know what the final arrangement will be. Parts arrive one at a time, and eventually I start seeing how they relate to each other. Lyrics generally come later and are often the part that requires the most discipline. That’s when I have to set aside time and stay inside the process even when I’m struggling. I suppose my songwriting philosophy is that inspiration starts the song, but persistence finishes it. ‘Silent City’ demonstrates that process particularly well. When Geir recorded the drums for the original section years ago, I asked him to try another idea afterwards – the same chords and tempo, but with a 6/8 groove with an African-inspired feel, based mainly around toms. I didn’t really know what to do with it, so the recording was essentially discarded. Then, years later during lockdown, I rediscovered it and suddenly knew what it was for. That forgotten drum part became the foundation for the entire second half. Sometimes an idea isn’t bad – it simply hasn’t found its home yet.
What bands/artists have influenced you the most since you started this project, and why?
That’s increasingly difficult to answer because my musical love has spread in so many directions.
Frank Zappa remains one of my biggest inspirations. I love the complexity, weirdness, humour and sheer creative freedom in his work. He could write conventional rock songs and then turn around and create incredibly demanding atonal or rhythmically complex compositions, yet everything still sounded unmistakably like Zappa. I’m also heavily influenced by artists including Radiohead, Pink Floyd, Jeff Buckley, Mew, Pat Metheny, John McLaughlin and Shakti, Jaga Jazzist, Motorpsycho, The Pineapple Thief, and many others.
Indian music has been particularly influential too. I’ve travelled to India several times with my guitar, and some of those sounds have inevitably found their way into holon. On ‘Silent City’, alongside acoustic and electric guitars, I actually play sitar, and there are also some Indian-inspired vocal passages. Outside music, I’m influenced by philosophy, psychology, spirituality, film and visual art. I don’t see much reason to keep the different creative disciplines in separate boxes.
What countries would you like to tour? Are there any standout venues you’d like to play in?
holon isn’t really a touring project at the moment, but if I were to take it properly on the road, Asia would be particularly interesting.
I’ve travelled to India four times with my guitar and those trips had a big influence on me. I’d love to explore more of Asia, particularly South East Asia, both as a traveller and potentially with music involved. More generally, I’m less interested in ticking famous venues off a list than I am in playing somewhere with the right atmosphere. An unusual theatre, a remote festival or somewhere surrounded by nature would probably appeal to me more than simply playing the biggest possible room.
If you could pick one track for our readers to listen to in order to get a taste of your music, what would you pick, and why?
I’d probably choose ‘Love & Behold’. I think it gives a good overview of where holon is today – there are strong melodies and vocals at the centre, but also fuzz guitars, Hammond organ, atmospheric sections and longer instrumental passages where the music is allowed to stretch out and develop. It also represents the broader creative direction holon has taken, because I created the accompanying music video myself. The whole thing was programmed in JavaScript using three.js and WebGL, including some custom libraries I wrote to create the heart-cloud 3D objects that make up the visual world. The slightly nerdy part – and something I’m particularly proud of – is that it isn’t fundamentally a conventional pre-rendered music video. The visuals can actually be generated in real time in a standard web browser from the JavaScript code. That brought together two sides of me that don’t always get to meet: the musician and the engineer.
What ambitions do you have for the band/your career?
Honestly, my biggest ambition is simply to get as much of the music that’s in my head out into the world as I can. I have a day job designing GPU hardware, so holon isn’t about trying to turn myself into a full-time rock star. Creativity is simply something I need in my life. It’s my oxygen. The danger is that I keep finding additional creative rabbit holes. Apparently writing, recording and producing the music isn’t enough, because I’ve now become obsessed with making my own videos and animations as well. But that’s okay. I enjoy learning, and increasingly I see holon as more than just music – it’s becoming a place where I can combine sound, visuals, technology and whatever else interests me. If I can keep doing that, keep improving at the craft, and find people who genuinely connect with what I create, that’s a pretty good definition of success for me.
Finally, as you leave the stage, what are your parting words?
Take your time. With music, with people, with life. Some things reveal themselves immediately. Others need fifteen years and seventeen minutes. Thanks for listening.
Find out more about holon at holon.band
