(Photograph by Zac Mahrouche)
Having just released the brilliant album THALASSA while working across a full spectrum of artistic possibilities SHHE talks to Magazine Sixty about ideas, music and culture…
Welcome to Magazine Sixty, Su. Tell us about your relationship with the label One Little Independent, how it happened and why it continues?
Hello Magazine Sixty, thanks for the invitation.
My relationship with One Little Independent began in 2018. I had just returned from a residency in Iceland, where I had started research on a new project. In one way, the residency had been a failed experiment – I had attempted to sonically ‘map’ the Dýrafjörður fjord in the Westfjords of Iceland – but an unexpected storm meant that it was impossible to leave Þingeyri, the village that I was based in. So, I left Iceland with lots of ideas but very little material, knowing that I needed to find a way to return immediately. While I was there, I self-released Eyes Shut, which went onto become the first track from my debut album. A friend – wondrous Davie Miller from the band, Finitribe – shared the track online, and OLI contacted him to ask if we could be introduced. A few weeks later, I met the label in London, and we began working together soon after. As you know, their roster is deeply embedded in Iceland, which made it possible to keep developing my project, which years later became my second album, Dýra – which was released by OLI in 2024. So that first meeting felt very serendipitous in many ways. I’m grateful that the relationship continues – I can’t think of another label where I would feel more at home.
I was fascinated to hear about Alexandria, Egypt, and being the Musician in Residence at B’sarya (as part of a project supported by the British Council in 2022). What are your connections to the place? What is the significance of the sea, and what inspiration do you still draw from your time spent there?
The first ideas for THALASSA emerged during a remote residency with B’sarya for Arts, a contemporary arts space and studio in Alexandria. Because I couldn’t travel to Alexandria at the time (it was during a period of strict lockdown in UK), I developed early ideas for the project in Dundee; exploring the perception of place and proximity, and interconnectedness with this stretch of the Mediterranean, from afar. Then I had the opportunity to visit Egypt later that same year once lockdown restrictions lifted, as part of a commission with British Council – and that initial perspective I’d built up remotely was challenged by the political and environmental realities of standing along the city’s corniche.
Not only could I not hear the Mediterranean below the surface (underwater recording was prohibited due to Alexandria’s heavily militarised coastline), I also couldn’t hear the water above the surface, as Alexandria is a cacophony of car horns, traffic, construction sounds and other human activity. In a way, THALASSA is my attempt to give voice to the Mediterranean; to this sea that has been rendered ‘silent’, both physically and metaphorically. Large areas of Alexandria are predicted to be underwater in my lifetime – and similarly, some areas along Dundee’s waterfront share this fate. I was curious to explore how our relationship to these water bodies might transition during this time; how do we find a way to balance introspection with urgency?
Your remarkable new album, THALASSA evokes a wealth of feelings. How did the album’s modular sounds evolve, and what was your involvement with producer Ben Chatwin?
I had no pre-existing experience of working with modular synthesisers before beginning work on THALASSA, so it was important for me to learn from the beginning. Part of my remote residency was spent thinking about the synergies between the process of working with modular synthesis and the ideas I was exploring from afar.
I was first introduced to Ben (Chatwin) through a mutual friend in 2022. During our first meet, I shared plans to design and build a modular system which would allow me to work and perform in quadraphonic. Ben said he would be interested in helping, and soon after we began to develop ideas together, one of the decisions I made was to work with analogue modules as much as possible, which would welcome in a level of uncertainty and unpredictability into the work. As analogue modules naturally respond to their environment, this meant that recording the album felt like a very organic process.
Taking you back to 2019 and your self-titled debut album, I wanted to ask about the use of the human voice in music. Do contemporary songs say enough about the world? Do you have a favourite vocalist (any era)?
My debut album was the first body of work that I self-produced. The use of voice on that album was incredibly personal. It was the first time that I was revealing parts of myself, that I had not yet shared publicly.
In many ways, I feel that the human voice has become even more important today as a vehicle for truth. In an increasingly digital-saturated world, it is also our purest instrument; and an essential vehicle for raising awareness of others – communities, cultures, environments.
To me, Björk’s ability to retain this kind of honesty and humanness through use of her voice, is incomparable.
What drew you to electronic music in the first place? Was there a lightbulb moment via a certain record or hearing a performance?
I grew up in a small village in the countryside and spent a lot of time outdoors, listening to natural rhythms and patterns, so perhaps my interest in electronic music was born then, subconsciously. When I was a kid, I would ride my bike in circles around the same cul-de-sac for hours, losing perception of time, until it got dark and my parents called me home. I can’t remember the first record that drew me in – some of my favourite records I have only discovered in the last few years – but perhaps those feelings of losing track of time, are synonymous with the feelings I experience when I listen to certain records now.
When you perform live, how does it feel different to recoding music? What instruments do you use to accompany performance?
I’m always trying to find ways to bring the process of recording and performing closer together. Performing with my modular encourages me to let go of control. As nothing is programmed in advance, no two performances feel or sound the same. To me, performing live should feel as alive as possible. Working with modular and voice encourages me attune to the environment that I’m performing in, to work with the space, instead of simply performing in it.
Tell us about Cryptic Glasgow? And about curating the line-up for Hospitalfield this year?
I have been working with Cryptic Glasgow for almost five years. The support that they offer artists is unparalleled. It was Cryptic who first helped to facilitate an introduction to B’sarya in Alexandria; a project which led to future commissions in Brazil, and in Kurdistan-Iraq, supported by British Council. In addition to artist support, I have also been working alongside Cryptic as a programmer for Sonica Glasgow; Scotland’s largest biennial sonic arts festival (24 Sept-4 October 2026)
It’s been a dream to bring more sound to the east coast of Scotland, where I am based. Hospitalfield is an incredible space; a neo-Gothic mansion house dedicated to artistic development, just north of where I live in Dundee. I have been working with Hospitalfield for the past three years, curating the music programme for their summer festival. In July this year, I will host Ecologies of Listening; a study day on sound, which will bring together artists from diverse geographies and genres, to explore deeper modes of listening and sonic awareness. Across a programme of performances, discussions, workshops and shared reflections, we will consider how listening might help us to imagine and nurture new futures.
Outside of music, are there any particular artists, writers, cinema, etc., that have inspired you the most over the years?
Rachel Carson’s writing was a huge inspiration to me during the creation of THALASSA. I was first introduced to Carson through David Horvitz’s Last Billboard project, in 2016. I carried a copy of Carson’s seminal book, The Sea Around Us, around with me for three years during the album’s development and had a chance to visit some of the locations she wrote about so beautifully, including St. Malo in France – home to the largest tidal range in Europe. I was thrilled to find an early print of The Sea Around Us in the Rare Books sections of the historical Bibliotheca Alexandrina.
How would you describe the process of writing a song and then producing it as a piece of music? What does being able to create music mean for you?
The processes of writing and producing are very connected to me; where one ends and the other begins isn’t clear, these processes often happen simultaneously. I feel very lucky to be able to create music in this way.
Release: SHHE – THALASSA – May 15 on One Little Independent Records
Buy on all platforms
SHHE
One Little Independent
You must be logged in to post a comment.