Michal Menert is truly a fascinating individual. Born in Poland under Soviet rule, Menert’s parents were creative intellectuals, filling their home with banned books and Western music. Unlike a lot of producers and DJs, Menert came to learn about electronic music through his father rather than the typical story of someone accidentally/purposefully walking into a rave (which might explain his distaste for the indulgent, “escapist rituals†that come along with the scene). He’s a nuanced twist of smart, cool and creative, and one of the most engaging people we’ve had the good fortune of having a conversation with.
From what I understand, it sounds like you had fairly progressive parents. It must have been such a challenge for them to remain true to themselves while living under Soviet rule and from what I’ve read about your take on the music industry, it sounds like that’s a value you continue to hold strong to in your own life and career. Â Can you talk a little bit about your strong sense of independence and how that’s led you to where you are? Do you think your childhood and political surroundings had a direct impact on your career choice?
I think it all boils down to non-participation in things you don’t believe in. There are many elements of the music industry that I don’t want to perpetuate. That poses a problem when some of those elements are necessary in the distribution and promotion of music. Over the years my colleagues and I have thought up new ways to keep control of the vision and direction of the music. By giving it away for free since day one we circumvented many of the unsavory commercial elements that can ruin a project. By eliminating financial advances from a label and the cost of printing, an album no longer incurs a five digit price tag. There is nothing owed by the artist except the art. I think watching my parents’ struggle to move to a free country and realizing how much that freedom really has given me the chance to pursue my dream, in contrast to the fear and oppression Eastern Europe was living under. That definitely kept me driven in the direction of independence both musically and socially.
It’s very interesting that your original introduction to electronic music was via your father (I feel like for most musicians it’s usually some rave they went to as a teenager). Â Do you think this might be part of the reason why you’re so drawn to the more intellectual aspects of electronic music/music in general rather than the party culture that often surrounds it? Â How do you reconcile your love of music with being in a culture that you might not always love?
Great question. I definitely think that hearing experimental and electronic music from my dad’s perspective was a critical element of my appreciation, in general. Hearing artists like Vangelis, Kraftwerk, Klaus Schultze, and Tangerine Dream as science fiction sound poetry (which is as close as I can explain my father’s take on it) gave those albums a vibrant, imaginative, and very personal feel for me.
Culturally I feel torn about this scene, because there’s a beautiful part of it and a very ignorant part of it. I never got into disposable music. I grew up thinking obscurity was cooler than familiarity, and pop remixes were and always will be corny as hell to me. I’ve never wanted to dance around to bubble gum flavored versions of radio hits, and never really like the repetitive nature of most dance music, because I never really liked dancing growing up. I felt the music that hit me with feeling rather than a heavy beat, so that’s a huge fault and setback on my behalf as someone who exists under the umbrella of EDM. I have no negativity toward straightforward dance music, nor those who listen to it. I’m just trying to expand upon my relationship with the scene and genre I’m in as honest as I can.
You’ve talked about how music culture has changed since the 90s when people would actually listen to whole albums and learn about artists before seeing them live versus the thriving party culture that seems to have a choke hold on the industry. Â Is this a frustration/insight you see other artists express or do you find that you are part of a dying breed?Â
I’ve had conversations regarding this contrast with a lot of different artists I know. Often I feel like i’m explaining these outdated concepts to younger artist, like how previous generations lament over lost pieces of their upbringing. On a plus side, I think there are still plenty of people in the industry that want to bring value back to the product. I’m not referring to the commercial value of a song or how marketable and useable it is in advertising of film/TV. What i’m referring to is the question of how you bring back interest and involvement from the audience, how you make something free become cherished. Because when there is an over-saturation of music being released, it’s harder to take that time to let an album grow with you. As the attention span of the listener narrows, artist begin to sacrifice their vision for keeping people’s attention. But just as all cultural patterns go, more and more people are taking time to love and experience entire albums.
In talking about DEMF, you mentioned (in another interview) how you were into the bookings on their “indie stage.” As an artist who somewhat straddles the line between different aspects of the electronic music community, I’m wondering how that impacts the way you present yourself and your music. Â Is that a challenge for you or something you think benefits your style?Â
I think it’s a fortunate challenge to be faced with. it’s actually liberating being on the outskirts of a genre, because you get to experience and apply the best parts while having the room to stray and experiment outside of that scene’s confines. I’ve enjoyed it, even with the problems of fitting into an event’s style or getting people to understand what I’m trying to do.
You mentioned that you believe true art is born out of longing. Â Once an artist achieves success or their dreams come to fruition, do you think it becomes more of a challenge to maintain that type of inspiration? Where does one look for that kind of longing when they have everything they want and is this something that has been an issue for you in your success over the years?
I think that a breakthrough release (one that elevates an artist from obscurity to stability and exposure) is usually the product of a longer period of growth and sacrifice, when the artist is closest to the general population, before they are recognized for (and therein become an embodiment of) their work. Usually if the work is success, the artist experiences a transition from living as a normal person (and drawing inspiration from it) into a new world of touring, press, criticism, etc.; things that probably didn’t affect their first release. Artists also begin to recognize which of their efforts succeeded more than others, which can create an imbalanced or at the very least adaptive perspective on their creative process and the reaction it gets. So, if you think about it, it’s a self-awareness that can breed doubt if someone becomes too aware and too focused on the outside world’s reaction.
I understand that “Even If It Isn’t Right” is titled after the idea of going with your gut and doing what you think is right for you. Â How else does this philosophy apply to your life and where did you draw it from?
It’s an idea that helps me justify everything that goes against reason but makes sense to me. Like putting out a flowing 27 track album at a time when people are hyped on singles, EPs and remixes. It’s also just a perspective about how things go. Even if it isn’t the right way, it’s the way things happen, and we can choose to focus on what went wrong or we can grow and learn from even the worst experiences. Mistakes and failures help us grow, yet somehow they’re the thing we most fear. It’s nothing new, the negative gives us perspective on the positive, and that’s golden. In a way it’s not as much what you think is right, because most of the difficult choices we face aren’t that clear and obvious. It’s more about owning your choices and the things that happen to you so that you aren’t wasting your emotions on unnecessary regrets and worries.
Can you talk a little bit about your writing process? How do your ideas come to you and how do you try to initially capture them?Â
Working from samples, it’s about hearing something that catches your ear. I do it really backwards compared to how everyone else I know does it. Most people spend time gathering and editing samples, whereas I work on the fly. I record in records as I go, and look for compatible pieces to layer and develop the song. It’s up to chance many a time, but it’s a really fun and ritualistic way to work. You find things and incorporate elements you may not have noticed if you were looking for standalone loops or hits.
Lately I’ve been capturing records in their entirety from vinyl while I’m home, since I’m traveling more and have limited time to fully engage in my usual process. I’ve been recording my own analog synth patch into Ableton racks so that I can play “analog” synths on the road. It’s been a challenge to keep the process as parallel, if not similar, as the usual studio time I have in my house, but I’m finding shortcuts and methods on the road to recreate what I like best about producing at home.