Miao Music and Unlinked Recordings weren’t born from nothing. What was the emotional or cultural impulse behind founding each of them?
Miao Music started as a response to a feeling — that techno needed more spaces where sound, art, and identity could blend into something multidimensional. The Miao team and I didn’t want to just play music — we wanted to create a place for others to shine too. That’s where MIAOMIX was born: a video podcast and platform for local and international artists whose sound we deeply respect. After that, it evolved into a party concept, and later into a music label. Unlinked Recordings came later — it’s still pretty fresh. We noticed something beautiful but different growing outside Miao’s ecosystem: artists whose work felt more experimental, organic, ambient — even meditative. Miao is like a forest rave scream — more techno, more trancy vibes, party music with the sound we love. Unlinked is the echo in the mountains, the afterglow. It’s experimental electronic music you probably wouldn’t play during your peak-time DJ set.
Beyond genre tags, how would you describe the unique vibe of Miao vs. Unlinked, both in artist ethos and the kind of energy they unleash?
Miao’s vibe is feral elegance — techno with claws, bass with a soul, and visuals that glitch like dreams. It’s about mixing contrast: shadow and sparkle, cat and code. Unlinked feels more like a dream sequence. It’s less about the club and more about consciousness. It’s EPs and albums crafted like personal manifestos. Less bangers, more existential audio-poems.
Fast-forward to 2028: what milestones do you hope Miao Music has hit, and how do you imagine your own sound evolving alongside it?
By 2028, I hope Miao is a fully international organism — collaborating with collectives from Tokyo to Tbilisi, blending scenes, genres, and disciplines.
Goal one: a strong, diverse core team — especially more visual artists.
Goal two: vinyl releases. There’s something sacred about pressing sound into matter.
Goal three: move beyond nightlife. I want Miao to curate more daytime events, exhibitions, even performance art. Techno is just one form — our spirit is broader.
As for my sound? Expect more weirdness. More spoken word. More courage. More experiments.
From Oslo to Copenhagen, the Miao parties have migrated. What core idea drove those first iterations and how has the concept morphed in the new cities?
Miao’s nomadic soul is very real. The heart of it was always simple: bring good people together for good sound and strong visual experience. No matter the place — the soul of Miao stays the same. It’s about that raw energy that builds when a room syncs up to a shared rhythm. We never aimed to be flashy or trend-driven. The first iterations were intimate, playful, sometimes messy — but always alive. We played with what we had, and with a lot of love. As the parties moved into new cities, the shape shifted — but the intention didn’t. Different spaces, new crowd dynamics — yet the same heartbeat underneath.
You often mention the inner feline soul in your work. What does that energy mean to you and what do you think it awakens in your listeners?
The inner feline soul is about moving through the world like a cat in a server room — confident, stylish, and not too worried about what anyone else thinks. It’s about being fully yourself, even if that doesn’t always make sense to others. Cats don’t explain themselves — they just exist. Sometimes in that is a bit of Schrödinger’s cat too — being in two states at once, open and mysterious. I like that idea. That energy gives people permission to loosen their identity. I think when people tap into that feline vibe on the dance floor, something very primal comes alive.
When you inaugurate a new party, how do you engineer the vibe so it doesn’t just fill a room but feels like a living organism; raw, uncanny, and real?
That’s the essence of GLITCH.exe, a new party concept curated by Miao Music. It’s not just about sound — it’s about system failure. I love when systems break. Glitches are where secrets leak out. The vibe is engineered through intentional misalignment: odd visuals, unexpected sounds, surreal narratives. GLITCH.exe corrupts the usual club format to create something uncanny — like walking into a dream where the code is half-deleted. It’s alive. And a little bit haunted.
GLITCH.exe has its first release very soon — on July 4th, 2025, at Den Anden Side — my favourite club in Copenhagen. I’m super proud of the lineup and invited guests. We’ve invited Rrose — truly one of my all-time favourite artists in electronic music — alongside local stars I deeply admire: Ctrls and N.E.Girl. Deril and I will play as residents.
I really want to keep developing GLITCH.exe and continue inviting more of my favourite artists into this world.
Imagine Miao Music as a physical environment, not a club, but a world. Describe its architecture, its dress code, its soundtrack. How would you build it?
Oh, it’s a cathedral of contradictions. The architecture is massive, almost sacred — think Einar Jónsson meets digital utopia. Sculptures and art everywhere. Some laugh, some glitch, some just stare.
Colors? Electric pastels: soft pinks, lilacs, cyan — the palette of lucid dreams.
Dress code: unapologetic self-expression. The soundtrack shifts with the mood of its inhabitants — from deep ambient and every Aphex Twin release to heavier techno and industrial textures. A constant stream of music performance, unbound by rules or definition.
It’s not a club. It’s a simulation designed to awaken your feline soul.
What’s one track that refuses to leave your USB, no matter how many times you refresh your folders?
There are a few tracks that have become almost like talismans for me — but Biosphere always finds a place.
His work carries this strange alchemy of stillness and intensity — a sense of infinite space, but never emptiness. It doesn’t demand attention, but it holds it. Whether I’m opening a set and want to cast a spell of anticipation, or closing a night and need to dissolve the energy back into air — Biosphere is there.
So yeah — Biosphere stays. Always. His music is a reminder that presence doesn’t have to be loud to be powerful.