What did Kris Wadsworth, one of electronic music’s grittiest sons, do last weekend?: “I bought myself new pyjamas, some new house shoes and a brand new tobacco pipe. It was heaven.” Defected's Ben Lovett finds out why...
It’s difficult to tell whether or not Wadsworth is screwing with us. His impact on dancefloors, hype charts and underground radio stations around the world has been immense over the past 18 months; a ‘pipe and slippers’ image doesn’t quite gel. Nevertheless, his follow-up is sincere:
“I have to have to balance; sanctuary from all of the crap that goes along with what I do. I’m in a strange position today, asking myself regularly what keeps me interested? Sometimes I fucking hate working dude, and it’s easy to get frustrated with the DJing from time to time. Having a little space takes the pressure off and keeps the work in perspective. Socially, I don’t go out a lot; I keep myself in pretty good shape. I welcome the space.”
Wadsworth is only 28 yet speaks with the cool rationality of a seasoned pro. However, he entered music at a young, young age, making tracks from 14, DJ booths from 16 and his first official release – I Need Sleep, as alias Etal – come 18. Much has happened since this teens. In terms of the studio, Wadsworth has flaunted a variety of tantalisingly raw singles and EPs on influential imprints such as Hypercolour, Morris/Audio, NRK and, latterly, Get Physical (last year’s It’s Time) and alphahouse (this February’s Team America EP, with Butane). But it’s only now, a whole decade after his discography began, that he’s finalised a debut album – Life And Death. Why?
“I don’t really know man,” he answers. “I had a different rhythm earlier on in my career but at the same time I didn’t know any labels that could support my vision; the sort of vision I’d want to express over multiple tracks. I’m not sure the vision was actually there then but the right label might have provided a spark.”
When the right label, Get Physical, did finally suggest something last year, Wadsworth failed to explode with enthusiasm but the motivation would soon come. “I was flattered by Get Physical’s proposal” he explains; “I just wasn’t sure, still, that I wanted to commit to an album. I thought on it and then saw how it could work, and what I could say. Suddenly the timing and context felt right.”
Life And Death is built upon the kinds of sparse, dubbed-out and edgy analogue 4-4 grooves with which he has so effectively made his name to date. Tracks like Definition Of, Showtime and Girl Talk represent bullish tech-house workouts, deep, swinging rhythms offset by tight sampling, piercing hi-hats and lush, otherworldly melodies. It’s the Wadsworth we know and love. Elsewhere, however, Wadsworth broadens his repertoire, the twisted, almost Aboriginal-sounding monologue of opener Alienated American, fragmented strut of Koffein and complex drum & bass-ism of both 666 (devilish bottom-end) and the title track (cascading breaker) highlighting other interesting sides to his personality.
Sides, he says, that have always been there, but often buried beneath an avalanche of media-provoked ‘house’ pigeon-holes: “I’ve definitely opened out on this album but there have always been several sides to my music. My music has always blended elements of house and techno and I think the house thing, because of its popularity, has become an easy, misleading tag. Tags don’t generally bother me but it can be frustrating when people identify you based on someone else’s description. This album is different, it clearly highlights the wide range of aesthetics I’m into today. It’s me, and I hope it opens people’s eyes.”
Was Wadsworth’s unique vision ever at odds with that of Get Physical? The revered Berlin label has built massive brand equity upon cultivating a highly distinctive tone for its multi-genre releases – material, tangible... physical. Did Wadsworth fear interference and compromise at all when making Life And Death?
“I think our sounds complement one another dude, otherwise we wouldn’t have worked together” he suggests. “Life And Death was me doing me, definitely, but therein laid the Get Physical aesthetic as well as something else. It’s as different a record for me as it is for them. It’s not the weirdest thing I’ve ever done but nor is it the straightest; there are really electric dancefloor tracks, and others to sit and listen to... personal moments; it’s both artist and label trying things out. I’m happy but I think I’m capable of even more.”
To talk about Wadsworth getting personal is, in significant part, to talk about his much-documented studio humour. Like many of the releases before it, Life And Death treads a fine, darkly satirical tightrope. Wadsworth’s maverick approach in the studio has served him well; forcing listeners out of comfortable holding patterns and, plainly, entertaining their butts off. “I’ve always had that sense of fun and humour” he says. “I feel like I’ve been 18 all of my music life; I like to fuck around. It’s important to laugh, particularly when there’s so much shit going on around you. The music scene is full of so many people taking themselves too seriously that there needs to be some contrast to put things in perspective. My music is about having fun and creating the right mood. It all boils down to an accurate expression of who I am.”
Last summer’s fruity, loopy collaboration with Alex Jones, Cowboy Trap, was sensationally banned by the BBC on grounds of vulgarity, and Life And Death throws similarly provocative shapes – beat-less album segue-way Famous Anus satirising those unnamed crossover DJ ‘producers’ who believe fame and influence lay simply in dropping random vocals or even speech samples haphazardly over identikit beat tracks. Regardless, is there a risk of losing artistic credibility himself?
“I try and avoid taking myself too seriously but that’s not to say I’m not a serious artist. I’ve never wanted to be a piss in the pool pop star; that’s not me” Wadsworth urges. “It’s another balance. I hope that my musical ideas show for what they are; genuine productions with elements of sneakiness and jokiness. The new album’s title sums it up best. Music is Life And Death for me; that’s how important it is to me. Then again, the title is a comment on all those players in this industry who take themselves too seriously. I’m about serious music which often makes fun of the world around me.”
Wadsworth’s world for many years was Detroit. He moved there as a kid from birth city Atlanta and only recently left to set-up a new home Berlin. He has spoken many times over the years about his love-hate relationship with Motor City, even vowing last September never to play there again. How does he feel today?
“I still feel weird about Detroit” he begins, “I’ve had some great memories but more negative experiences; it’s a shitty, fucked-up place to live. When you’re local, promoters in the city don’t regard or support you as a professional artist. A lot of people there don’t seem to give a fuck and last year it got to a point where I needed a permanent break. At the same time, there is a tendency for local artists to be associated with the Detroit name and legacy; some seek it for PR but me, I want to stand alone. I respect the Detroit legacy and paid homage to it during my earlier career, for sure, but these days I want to be valued as an individual. I don’t ever want to feel like my music owes something to somewhere or some piece of history.”
What then does it owe to the future? After Life And Death, Wadsworth will release a second studio album on Hypercolour. The project, a mix of further original productions and new remix work for the label, will arrive early next year - “I really enjoyed putting this one together, the guys gave me free reign which meant I was able to cut loose and pump it dude....” - flanked, possibly, by one or two standalone EPs and, definitely, a new record label. Vinyl-only, Wadsworth’s nameless imprint (marked only by a symbol) will provide an exclusive channel for his own output.
Outside of the studio, Wadsworth is perfecting plans for his first ever live show – “I hope to roll it out soon” – whilst maintaining a vigorous international DJ schedule which will include New Year’s Eve at London institution Fabric alongside Four Tet, Martin Buttrich and Steffi. “I love the DJing” he enthuses. “I not one of these ‘look at me’ DJs, I’m appreciative of the audience’s attention and am there to play fucking well. The studio stuff is like the other side of your brain, tapping into the DJing but totally different. I’m naturally more introverted in the studio; that said you get the same me wherever I am.”
Not even 30, it’s remarkable to consider just how much Wadsworth has experienced, and how many obstacles he has faced down in his short but memorable musical life thus far – many brought about by his intense Detroit upbringing. Personal and financial difficulties, have, in the past, forced him back into a variety of “shitty” part-time jobs (including one stint as an assistant funeral director) and even prison (Wadsworth served time in 2010 to cancel travel restrictions imposed by a prior sentence).
“Lots of things have happened in my life dude” he reflects. “Because of those things - family, friends, money, college... whatever - I’ve either tried to make sacrifices and leave music or, when I’ve felt settled, been forced to leave. It’s left me questioning what I do all the fucking time. But the music has always sucked me back in, and I’m in a much clearer space than I used to be... happier, healthier; more stable. I’m stuck with music: it’s the only thing I know. You’re fucking stuck with me....”
Words: Ben Lovett
Kris Wadsworth’s debut album Life And Death is released by Get Physical (Ger) on November 30
