Lost And Sound

Richard Fearless is a true lifer. The DJ, producer and Death In Vegas founder sits down with Paul to reflect on 30 years of musical evolution that has taken him from the hugely influential Heavenly Social to Mercury Prize nominations, a top ten hit about a serial killer sung by Iggy Pop to his current creative renaissance, working free from industry bullshit and producing his best work in years,Growing up in remote Zambia with music-loving parents, Fearless recalls connecting with music at an early age. His path would lead through the emerging London techno scene of the late '80s and '90s, where he cut his teeth as a resident DJ alongside contemporaries like Andrew Weatherall and The Chemical Brothers before launching Death in Vegas. The conversation reveals a pivotal moment when commercial success led to a crossroads rather than continued mainstream pursuit.What emerges is the portrait of an artist who deliberately stepped away from major labels, management, and industry expectations to craft a more authentic sonic identity. His riverside studio "The Metal Box" becomes central to this narrative – an analog sanctuary where tape machines, field recordings, and environmental sounds combine to create the stripped-back, trance-inducing techno of his current work. "I make my best music when I'm digging deep within myself," he explains.Perhaps most compelling is Fearless's admission that he feels more proud of his recent, independent work than the commercial hits that brought him fame. His collaborative ventures with friend of Lost and Sound Daniel Avery and new dub-inspired night "Holy" demonstrate an artist still pushing boundaries rather than retreating into nostalgia. "I feel as excited about DJing as I was when I was 20," he confesses, signaling that artistic liberation has reinvigorated his passion.Death Mask by Death In Vegas is out now. Listen on  BandcampFollow Death In Vegas on Instagram:  @deathinvegasmusicIf you enjoy Lost and Sound, I’ve got a little favour to ask: please subscribe, leave a rating, and write a quick review on your favourite podcast platform. It really helps others find the show. You can do that here on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you like to listen.Huge thanks to Lost and Sound’s sponsor, Audio-Technica – makers of vcry fine engineered audio gear. Check them out here: Audio-TechnicaWant to go deeper? Grab a copy of my book Coming To Berlin, a journey through the city’s creative underground, via Velocity Press.And if you’re curious about Cold War-era subversion, check out my BBC documentary The Man Who Smuggled Punk Rock Across The Berlin Wall on the BBC World Service.You can also follow me on Instagram at @paulhanford for behind-the-scenes bits, guest updates, and whatever else is bubbling up

We’re living in fractured times. What can art really offer us? Lyra Pramuk’s powerful new album Hymnal might just offer a clue — not through escapism or easy answers, but by embracing contradiction and carving out sonic spaces where new ways of being can start to take root.I visited Lyra at her studio in Berlin to talk about the making of what could be one of the most bold and affecting records of the year. Building on the foundation of her acclaimed 2020 debut Fountain, she’s taken things somewhere even more unflinching — a place of dissonance, grief, ritual, and surprising beauty. Hymnal isn’t here to soothe; it mirrors the complexity of the world around us, while still offering room to breathe and imagine something different.What’s remarkable is how central collaboration is to this work. There’s Berlin’s Sonar Quartet, whose strings thread through the record with a kind of aching elegance. But perhaps most unexpected is her partnership with a slime mold — yes, a slime mold — whose movements across poetic maps helped shape the flow of her vocal improvisations. It’s as wild as it sounds, and just as moving.Our conversation drifts through everything from the spiritual and physical labour of music-making to the poetic logic of electronic sound. Lyra shares thoughts on technology as an extension of our bodies (think spiders sensing the world through their webs), the limits of Cartesian mind-body dualism, and why electronic music can hold radical potential — not just as art, but as a way of reimagining how we live together. Where techno-capitalism demands hierarchy and separation, Hymnal offers something else: a kind of sacred entanglement between people, nature, and machines.Listen to Lyra Pramuk’s music: Spotify – Artist | BandcampListen to Hymnal (2025): Spotify – Album Hymnal | Bandcamp – HymnalFollow Lyra Pramuk on Instagram: @lyra.pramukIf you enjoy Lost and Sound and want to help keep it thriving, the best way to support is simple: subscribe, leave a rating, and write a quick review on your favourite podcast platform. It really helps others find the show. You can do that here on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you like to listen.Thanks also to this episode’s sponsor, Audio-Technica – makers of beautifully engineered audio gear. Check them out here: Audio-TechnicaWant to go deeper? Grab a copy of my book Coming To Berlin, a journey through the city’s creative underground, via Velocity Press.And if you’re curious about Cold War-era subversion, check out my BBC documentary The Man Who Smuggled Punk Rock Across The Berlin Wall on the BBC World Service.You can also follow me on Instagram at @paulhanford for behind-the-scenes bits, guest updates, and whatever else is bubbling up.

Bradley Zero simply has that rare fusion of global success and grassroots authenticity. From humble beginnings as a teenage bar back in Leeds to becoming the founder of Rhythm Section International, what makes Bradley's approach so refreshing is his unwavering commitment to community. During our conversation, he reveals how finding his tribe in Peckham transformed his understanding of creative collaboration. "I was part of something," he reflects. "It wasn't networking... it was people somehow congregating around a small geographical area with an insane amount of creative energy." This foundation informs everything he touches – from his NTS radio show to Jumbi, his one-turntable hi-fi bar that draws inspiration from Jamaican sound systems and David Mancuso's legendary loft parties.The pandemic proved pivotal for Bradley, creating space for reflection on his role within the industry, leading him to launching Future Proof – a mentorship initiative aimed at demystifying the often secretive workings of the music industry. His observations about discovering the lack of diversity at upper industry levels led to this mission of opening doors and creating change "one step at a time."If you’ve ever danced to one of his sets or tuned in to his NTS show, you’ll know that Bradley's musical philosophy defies easy categorization, embracing everything from jazz and broken beat to minimal techno and 90s piano house. Add to this rock solid DIY ethics, where "balancing micro and macro," help him keep check in on where he‘s at, helping him in nurturing local scenes while thinking globally.Whether discussing the challenges of festival versus club DJing or offering wisdom to his younger self about enjoying the journey, I loved having this chat.Follow Bradley Zero on Instagram  @bradley_zeroExplore Future Proof, his emerging‑artist mentorship programme at Rhythm Section: Future Proof If you enjoy Lost and Sound and want to help keep it thriving, the best way to support is simple: subscribe, leave a rating, and write a quick review on your favourite podcast platform. It really helps others find the show. You can do that here on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you listen.Lost and Sound is sponsored by those good people at Audio‑Technica – check them out here: Audio‑TechnicaIt’s that time of the year where if you‘re looking for a beach read about Berlin and you‘ve not done so already, grab a copy of Coming To Berlin, my journey through the city’s creative underground, via Velocity Press.And if you’re curious about Cold War‑era subversion, check out my BBC documentary The Man Who Smuggled Punk Rock Across The Berlin Wall on the BBC World Service.You can also follow me on Instagram at @paulhanford for behind‑the‑scenes bits, guest updates, and whatever else is bubbling up

Talking with Nicola Cruz feels a bit like tuning into a different frequency—the producer and DJ has spent the last decade helping redefine perceptions of South American electronic music through a series of transcendental releases and live appearances. Based in Ecuador, Cruz doesn’t give many interviews, so I was super happy to have this rare conversationHe talks about his approach to DJing, where instead of scanning a crowd, he locks into the energy of one or two people and lets that guide the set. It’s a more intimate, slower way of connecting, sometimes taking hours, and sometimes never quite happening at all. But when it works, it shapes everything.We also get into his field recording work—using geophones to capture the movement inside glaciers, recording whale sounds deep underwater. These aren’t just sonic experiments; for Cruz, they’re a way of exploring how we relate to the parts of the world we can’t usually hear. His new album Kinesia lives in this space—somewhere between the physical and the imagined.At the heart of it all is a deep belief in creative freedom. Though he’s formally trained, Cruz talks about the importance of unlearning, of breaking structures down in order to build something new. If you’re interested in where electronic music, listening, and inner exploration overlap, this one’s worth your time.Listen to Nicola Cruz’s music: Spotify | BandcampListen to Kinesia: Spotify | BandcampFollow Nicola Cruz on Instagram: @nicola_cruzIf you enjoy Lost and Sound and want to help keep it thriving, the best way to support is simple: subscribe, leave a rating, and write a quick review on your favourite podcast platform. It really helps others find the show. You can do that here on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you like to listen.Thanks also to this episode’s sponsor, Audio-Technica – makers of beautifully engineered audio gear. Check them out here: Audio-TechnicaWant to go deeper? Grab a copy of my book Coming To Berlin, a journey through the city’s creative underground, via Velocity Press.And if you’re curious about Cold War-era subversion, check out my BBC documentary The Man Who Smuggled Punk Rock Across The Berlin Wall on the BBC Sounds app.You can also follow me on Instagram at @paulhanford for behind-the-scenes bits, guest updates, and whatever else is bubbling up.

Cristobal Tapia de Veer on instinct, tension, and walking away from The White LotusIt‘s not often I have a guest on the show primarily known for scorring for screen but the outspoken, punk-rock ethosed, voice-warping composer Cristobal Tapia de Veer is so Lost and Sound it hurts. Whether it’s the unnerving soundworld of Utopia, the chaotic beauty of The White Lotus, or the warped voices of A24‘s Babygirl, his scores don’t just sit behind the picture—they shape how you feel it.In this conversation, we talk about how some of his most striking ideas come in a flash. How one of The White Lotus‘ most memoral earworms: “took me the time it takes you to listen to it,” he says. “I feel like somebody else did it for me.”We get into why scoring the show felt like “trying on a yellow dress,” and how stepping into unfamiliar territory let him bring something raw and unexpected to it. He’s honest about how uncomfortable that space was—and how that discomfort helped him land something sharper.Cristobal opens up about working in an industry that often pulls in the opposite direction of intuition. We talk about trusting the subconscious, letting go of control, and how stepping back sometimes allows something better to come through.We also touch on his recent public split from The White Lotus—and the bigger questions that come when creativity and power don’t align.If you’re interested in how a politically minded Iggy Pop fan became one of the most highly revered film and TV composers working right now, or just curious about what it takes to stay true to your instincts inside a system that often doesn’t want you to, this one’s worth your time.If you’re enjoying Lost and Sound, please do subscribe and leave a rating or review on Apple, Spotify, Amazon, or wherever you listen. It really helps to spread the word and support Lost and Sound.Cristobal Tapia de Veer on Instagram Cristobal Tapia de Veer on Apple Music and TIDAL.Follow me on Instagram at PaulhanfordLost and Sound is sponsored by Audio-TechnicaMy BBC World Service radio documentary “The man who smuggled punk rock across the Berlin Wall” is available now on BBC Sounds. Click here to listen.My book, Coming To Berlin: Global Journeys Into An Electronic Music And Club Culturet Capital is out now on Velocity Press. Click here to find out more. Lost and Sound title music by Thomas Giddins

The boundary between imagination and technology blurs in Lila Tirando a Violeta's mesmerizing sonic experiments. From her early DIY noise experiments in Uruguay to her current position as one of electronic music's most distinctive emerging voices, Lila's creativity has flourished despite—or perhaps because of—the challenges of living with a chronic condition.When health issues confined her to hospitals and home at age 23, Lila found herself transitioning from improvisational performance to structured composition. The internet became both her music school and lifeline, leading to collaborations with artists like Loraine James and Amnesia Scanner—relationships that began digitally before materializing in the physical world. This digital-first approach mirrors the themes in her work, particularly her fascination with David Cronenberg's Videodrome, which she references in her new album "Dream of Snakes."What makes Lila's creative process so compelling is her transformation of limitation into innovation. She samples her own pulsating tinnitus, captures field recordings from hospital rooms, and builds intricate sonic collages without formal training. Though her aesthetic suggests urban futurism, she's found her creative sanctuary in the quiet Irish countryside, where nature and technology intertwine in unexpected ways.Most striking is Lila's openness about navigating the music industry—from including special lighting requests in her rider to dealing with international promoters who expect her to play reggaeton simply because of her South American heritage.If you’re enjoying Lost and Sound, please do subscribe and leave a rating or review on Apple, Spotify, Amazon, or wherever you listen. It really helps to spread the word and support Lost and Sound.Lila Tirando a Violeta on Instagram Listen/Buy Dream Of Snakes hereFollow me on Instagram at PaulhanfordLost and Sound is sponsored by Audio-TechnicaMy BBC World Service radio documentary “The man who smuggled punk rock across the Berlin Wall” is available now on BBC Sounds. Click here to listen.My book, Coming To Berlin: Global Journeys Into An Electronic Music And Club Culturet Capital is out now on Velocity Press. Click here to find out more. Lost and Sound title music by Thomas Giddins

Bartees Strange makes music that doesn’t sit still. One moment it’s soaring indie rock, the next it’s touched by soul, punk energy, or the weight of hip-hop—yet it all holds together in a way that feels completely his own. We sat down in a quiet Berlin hotel room to talk about the creative process behind his new album Horror, produced by Jack Antonoff and released on the iconic 4AD label.Bartees doesn’t approach songwriting as a straight path. It’s more like piecing together different fragments until something unexpected clicks. “I might write five or six sections and not know they’re in the same song until I start plugging them into each other,” he said. That instinctive method pulls influence from across the board—Fleetwood Mac, Parliament, Burial, Neil Young—and filters it through a sound that’s urgent, intimate, and ever-shifting.What stood out most in our conversation was his view on genre itself. For Bartees, it’s not just about music—it’s about identity, and how people are often encouraged to box themselves in. “Music is representative of people,” he told me. “And people separate themselves from each other because of all these things that don’t make sense. Through music, I can show people that all those things you thought were unique to you are also unique to them.” His work holds a quiet defiance, a kind of gentle political energy that moves through emotion rather than statement.Before committing to music full-time, Bartees worked as deputy press secretary at the FCC under Obama. That experience brings a clear-eyed perspective to his writing—but it was never about strategy. “I tried not to do it. I got a job, I worked… but after a while, I was like I’d rather just not survive than not do what I want to do.” That sense of risk and necessity lives in every note.If you’re enjoying Lost and Sound, please do subscribe and leave a rating or review on Apple, Spotify, Amazon, or wherever you listen. It really helps to spread the word and support Lost and Sound.Bartees Strange on Instagram Listen/Buy Horror by Bartees Strange hereFollow me on Instagram at PaulhanfordLost and Sound is sponsored by Audio-TechnicaMy BBC World Service radio documentary “The man who smuggled punk rock across the Berlin Wall” is available now on BBC Sounds. Click here to listen.My book, Coming To Berlin: Global Journeys Into An Electronic Music And Club Culturet Capital is out now on Velocity Press. Click here to find out more. Lost and Sound title music by Thomas Giddins

David Longstreth on Dirty Projectors, Orchestral Experimentation, and the Radical Psychedelia of FatherhoodDavid Longstreth stands at a fascinating creative crossroads. For twenty years, he's been the driving force behind Dirty Projectors, crafting music that defies easy categorization while earning collaborations with icons like Björk, Rihanna, and Paul McCartney. Now, with his ambitious new orchestral song cycle "Song of the Earth," Longstreth explores our shifting relationship with nature while processing what he calls "the radical psychedelia of fatherhood."Speaking from his California home studio (formerly a kitchen, before that a garage that "bloomed with mold"), Longstreth reveals how this project emerged from conversations with his longtime friend Andre de Ritter, conductor of the Berlin-based ensemble Stargaze. Drawing inspiration from Gustav Mahler's "Das Lied von der Erde," Longstreth initially set out to write nature poems, only to discover his feelings about the natural world had "gotten weird" – reflecting our collective anxiety about climate change.The beauty of Longstreth's approach lies in his embrace of uncertainty. Throughout our conversation, he repeatedly describes putting himself in musical situations "beyond what I'm capable of," allowing the learning curve itself to become part of the creative process. This has been his method since recreating Black Flag's "Damaged" album from memory for Dirty Projectors‘ 2007 "Rise Above" (deliberately avoiding revisiting the original) through to this orchestral collaboration that marries environmental themes with deeply personal transformation.Perhaps most captivating is Longstreth's description of how parenthood has fundamentally altered his perception. Watching his three-year-old daughter experience the world for the first time has made him question everything he knows, creating a profound sense of renewal that directly influences the emotional landscape of "Song of the Earth." Twenty years into his career, Longstreth has found a way to make music that feels simultaneously ambitious and intimate, political and personal – a rare achievement worth celebrating.If you’re enjoying Lost and Sound, please do subscribe and leave a rating or review on Apple, Spotify, Amazon, or wherever you listen. It really helps to spread the word and support Lost and Sound.Dirty Projectors on Instagram Dirty Projectors Official StoreFollow me on Instagram at PaulhanfordLost and Sound is sponsored by Audio-TechnicaMy BBC World Service radio documentary “The man who smuggled punk rock across the Berlin Wall” is available now on BBC Sounds. Click here to listen.My book, Coming To Berlin: Global Journeys Into An Electronic Music And Club Culturet Capital is out now on Velocity Press. Click here to find out more. Lost and Sound title music by Thomas Giddins

Seamus Rawles Malliagh, better known as Iglooghost, is an artist who doesn’t just make electronic music—he builds entire worlds. His sound is hyper-detailed, bursting with surreal textures, and deeply tied to the mythologies he creates around it.In this episode, we dive into how growing up in rural Dorset shaped his imagination, from childhood experiments with ley lines to the eerie, folklore-like atmosphere of empty landscapes. We also explore the making of his most recent album, Tidal Memory Exo, crafted during a five-year stint living near Thanet’s brutalist seafront. Immersed in what he calls “aesthetic ugliness”—concrete towers, decay, a nearby sewage plant—he channeled these surroundings into an intricate fictional narrative, where a storm isolates Thanet from the mainland, birthing underground music subcultures.Iglooghost shares how discomfort and constraint fuel his creativity and how mythology plays a key role in his artistic process. Whether you’re deep into his sonic universe or discovering him for the first time, we get into one about how environment, storytelling, and electronic music collide.If you’re enjoying Lost and Sound, please do subscribe and leave a rating or review on Apple, Spotify, Amazon, or wherever you listen. It really helps to spread the word and support Lost and Sound.Iglooghost on InstagramIglooghost on BandcampFollow me on Instagram at PaulhanfordLost and Sound is sponsored by Audio-TechnicaMy BBC World Service radio documentary “The man who smuggled punk rock across the Berlin Wall” is available now on BBC Sounds. Click here to listen.My book, Coming To Berlin: Global Journeys Into An Electronic Music And Club Culturet Capital is out now on Velocity Press. Click here to find out more. Lost and Sound title music by Thomas Giddins

Étienne de Crécy is one of the architects of the French Touch movement—those lush, filter-heavy grooves that shaped house music in the ‘90s, right alongside acts like Daft Punk, Air, and Alex Gopher. But his journey didn’t start in the clubs. Before electronic music, he was a punk bassist, navigating Parisian record shops that looked down on house music before the scene exploded worldwide.In this conversation, Étienne reflects on three decades of pushing electronic music forward, from his groundbreaking Super Discount series to his latest album, Warm Up. This new record marks a shift—more organic, more vocal-driven, and carrying a double meaning: a reference to its sound, but also a nod to the global moment we’re in. “We are just at the warm-up… for the climate, for politics.”We talk about his creative process, his mathematical approach to composition, and why he avoids the easy route of plugins in favor of crate-digging for samples. Plus, the story of how he unearthed a long-lost collaboration with Damon Albarn, recorded twenty years ago and now perfectly fitting Warm Up’s aesthetic.As electronic music culture shifts—where younger generations lean into harder, faster sounds—Étienne remains committed to a philosophy: “What I’m learning is to stay simple and to be amazed by simple things.”If you’re enjoying Lost and Sound, please do subscribe and leave a rating or review on Apple, Spotify, Amazon, or wherever you listen. It really helps to spread the word and support Lost and Sound.Étienne de Crécy on InstagramWarm Up Listen/BuyFollow me on Instagram at PaulhanfordLost and Sound is sponsored by Audio-TechnicaMy BBC World Service radio documentary “The man who smuggled punk rock across the Berlin Wall” is available now on BBC Sounds. Click here to listen.My book, Coming To Berlin: Global Journeys Into An Electronic Music And Club Culturet Capital is out now on Velocity Press. Click here to find out more. Lost and Sound title music by Thomas Giddins