Well, here’s a snapshot of my musical journey—a timeline that traces the twists, turns, and experiments I’ve explored over the years. My work has spanned a wide range of genres: downtempo electronica, trance, IDM, ambient, vaporwave, industrial, metal, abstract hip-hop, manipulated field recordings—you name it, I’ve probably dabbled in it.
Now, you might look at this and think, “Wow, this is a lot. It’s like nothing ever really stuck. So... why keep going?” Fair point. The answer lies in what I’ve learned along the way: music isn’t just an output for me—it’s a process, a way to set intentions and stay accountable to what I value. Each project is layered with personal meaning, even if only I understand it fully, and once it’s out in the world, I’m committed to the goal it represents.
Collaboration is a big part of that journey, but for me, it’s about more than just making sounds together—it’s about shared values. Some creative partnerships naturally run their course, but the ones that endure, like uni.Sol_ (led by Slavek Kwi, a.k.a. Artificial Memory Trace / alfa00), stand as testaments to what can happen when connection and creativity align. Projects like these transcend borders and time zones, focusing on the shared celebration of connection. In moments like that, nothing else matters.
When it comes to creating, my focus isn’t so much on reacting to the world as it is on channeling inner energy to gently nudge it. I’ve also learned the importance of keeping negativity out of my creative process. Sure, frustration can resonate with others, but it often clouds my own sense of purpose. So, I save those moments for private reflection, leaving my music as a space for clarity and intention. That said, there’s always room for exceptions, like my collaborations within Neal D. Retke’s projects, which pair you with wildly different collaborators. It’s a little chaotic, a lot unpredictable, and always rewarding in ways you don’t expect.
Looking ahead, I’m juggling a mix of projects: releasing ambient music as LR Friberg to set intentions, wrapping up long-standing efforts like perception:enigma and other outputs under Nierika Productions, and diving into experiments like fine-tuning a MusicGen model on my ambient catalog. My blog has become a playground for sharing ideas and minimally viable concepts—a way to document experiments, even those that might seem insignificant now but could provide blueprints for the future.
For instance, back in 2020, I explored generative hip-hop within Oriondrive. While completely unrelated to today’s tools like Suno, it’s gratifying to see how early experiments like those echo in the larger creative landscape. That’s why I embrace the MVP mindset—there’s so much to explore, and time is limited. By sharing ideas openly, I hope to inspire others to build on them, creating something even greater over time.
So, what drives all of this? At the core are my values: fostering creativity and empowerment, championing autonomy, and embracing a DIY ethos. I prioritize diversity, inclusivity, and sustainability while exploring the transformative power of music and art to inspire, provide hope, and forge meaningful connections. Technology plays a key role here—not as an end in itself, but as a tool for enabling greater accessibility, making sense of the world, and amplifying efforts to connect with others in meaningful ways. That said, I’m no saint. I’m firm when my boundaries are crossed or when respect is lacking. But I also have a record of mending bridges after conflicts, knowing that people can evolve, and I strive to do the same.
Now that we’ve covered the "why", let’s take a quick dive into the "how". Here’s a brief overview of the methods behind everything I’ve created. I won’t get into the details of early hardware setups—like Kore 2 for Nimbostrata or Virus TI for RAINE—because those tools are long gone, and honestly, I’m not interested in replicating those exact techniques. Instead, I’ll focus on four main approaches that have shaped my creative process.
Sampling has been a cornerstone of my work, whether through hardware or digital means. One of my favorite tools for this is the Pocket Operator (PO-33)—a compact sampler that makes experimenting with sounds a breeze. Sampling is especially central to my Nimbostrata work, where the process of cutting, layering, and reimagining snippets takes center stage. That said, sampling has its quirks and limitations. There’s the obvious issue of copyright when using existing material, and while you can build a track entirely from samples, it sometimes feels like you’re channeling someone else’s essence rather than your own. Artists like Trine Nielsen, The Young Gods or Front Line Assembly ("Implode") demonstrate how to do this beautifully, but for me, meticulously combing through thousands of samples to find "the one" feels like too much heavy lifting. I’d rather synthesize sounds from scratch, which brings me to...
Synthesis. When I want to dive deep, I turn to modular synthesis. Big shoutout to Sebastian Hastrup for his invaluable feedback on my early modular experiments, and to Holger (Hans-Erik Holgersson) for his music theory course that challenged me to think differently about composition. I work with semi-modular Moog synths, often crafting ambient patches and improvising with the knobs to create evolving textures. It’s a rewarding process, though modular systems can look intimidating with their maze of cables and esoteric setups. To make it more accessible, I share my patches openly—whether for hardware synths or software alternatives like VCV Rack—because nothing should feel out of reach for someone eager to experiment. This openness aligns with my belief in breaking barriers and fostering creativity for anyone interested.
Frequencies. There’s a fascinating world of frequencies that are said to influence the subconscious in unique ways. My experience with this approach is limited, but I’m curious enough to explore further. If you’re interested in diving deeper, there are great resources out there detailing how certain tones might affect the brain and body. It’s an area ripe for experimentation—just proceed with an open mind and a healthy dose of skepticism!
DAW. Sometimes, simplicity wins, and a DAW is the fastest way to bring ideas to life. Much of my ambient work as LR Friberg is built this way. I often take inspiration from nature—like the view of trees outside my window—and translate visual patterns into musical sequences using tools like the ChordGun plugin for REAPER. I’ll tweak, layer, and refine until the result feels just right. When I’m stuck or looking for a spark, I turn to stochastic tools like WolframTones, which generate sequences I can export and tweak until they are completely new. These methods lend themselves well to setting intentions through music, and I often experiment with translating similar ideas into hardware setups using tools like the Roland J6.
Ultimately, there’s no "right" or "wrong" way to create music—it all depends on your goals. Often, I draw inspiration from resources like The Marginalian, which dives deep into the search for meaning and resonates with the ethos of my netlabels.
As creators, we all want our music to be heard, but if we’re all busy making and promoting, who’s left to listen? At times, the music world can feel like a "sonic pyramid scheme", indeed. So, taking the time to truly listen feels more valuable than ever. For me, it’s not just about hearing but understanding and connecting. This is why I approach feedback with care and honesty—when something resonates with me, I’d rather celebrate it in a meaningful way, like including it in my podcast, rather than just firing off generic reactions.
I’ll admit, I’m not a fan of piling on reactions on social media. I much prefer the way Mastodon handles things with its boosting system—boosting a post makes it a highlight on your timeline, a kind of curated nod to something worth sharing. Likes, on the other hand, don’t measure the value of someone’s work, at least not for me. If you want to know whether I genuinely care about your work, send it my way. If it ends up featured on the podcast, you’ll know for sure—it means I’ve listened, appreciated, and found it worth sharing.
On a more personal note, I realize I come across as guarded online, but let’s dispel a bit of the mystery. If you’re trying to picture me, think of a younger and more plain version of Emma Thompson in "Junior", but far less clumsy and way more careful. Oh, and perpetually tired nowadays—it’s better to leave the visuals offline; they’re not all that appealing anyway, haha. That said, I’ve had to clarify this because there’s been some odd assumptions floating around—no, I’m not a shady oligarch or involved in anything remotely dubious. I’m just someone balancing studies, music, and life, while fiercely guarding my personal space. And let’s be real, the “autistic loner on Christmas” trope is even further from the truth. There’s a lot more to my life beyond this. Offline, I stay engaged with my local clubs, circles, and family, keeping those aspects of my life separate from my online presence. Sure, studies take up a lot of my time, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a world beyond them—especially now, when balance feels more achievable than ever.
Also, I absolutely abhor being put into boxes by others. While it’s natural for people to label and categorize, I resist any sort of definition—especially those that leave me or my work disrespected for things beyond my control, like being a third culture kid. Labels can be limiting, and I define myself through my values and actions rather than someone else’s assumptions.
Curious about what my work actually sounds like? A good starting point is this Planck Tone mix, which gives a glimpse into my creative world. There’s plenty more to explore, but links are temporarily unavailable while I sort out some technical issues (firewalls have flagged one of the Arweave gateways as "phishing" and it has to be manually changed on all resources that use it —long story). Once that’s fixed, I’ll share all the links!
LR Friberg
