Max HeyraudWe caught up with one of the most influential UK electronic producers of the past two decades, Daniel Avery, ahead of his all-night-long show at Dublin’s Centre Point. In our quick chat, the revered artist dives into his early experiences with club culture, his approach to writing albums, his deep connection to Ireland, his latest book with Keffer and more.
Since the release of Drone Logic on Phantasy in 2013, Daniel Avery has emerged as one of the most respected and recognisable figures in British electronic music. The techno record remains as impactful today as it was upon release, but Avery has since shattered any preconceived notions of being confined to the genre or even strictly club music. Over the years, he’s crafted a wide array of sounds, moving fluidly from one style to the next, unphased by audience expectations or the pressure to stick to a single direction.
As a DJ, Avery brings the same fearless approach as in his productions—eclectic, bold, and constantly evolving. His sets span an encyclopedic range of genres, from soul and ambient to techno, dubstep, IDM, and beyond. He’s played in some of the world’s most renowned venues, including Fabric, Les Nuits Sonores, and The Warehouse Project. In 2022, Avery took his talents to a new level, debuting his first-ever live show, which toured major festivals like Primavera Sound, Melt, Roskilde, and Field Day in his hometown of London.
We caught up with Daniel for a quick chat before he played Centre Point on the Bank Holiday Sunday just passed.
What was your first introduction to electronic music, and more specifically, in a club context?
Handily, and in the most overtly cynical way possible, here’s an excerpt from my new book Techno is Boring:
I could chisel out a far more alluring origin story involving being taken to a Prodigy gig at age eleven or listening to endless hours of Björk albums but, in reality, nothing drew me to this world more than an episode of Channel 4’s Faking It that aired when I was in my mid-teens. The episode followed a young classical cellist, quite literally, trying to ‘fake it’ as a DJ. The club culture parts were intriguing (including a trip to Bournemouth club The Opera House) but the meat of the story was about not wasting your youth, the joy of going out until sunrise, making friends for life and not getting old too quickly. “Coxy took the roof off last night.”
Cut to one Saturday afternoon further down the line, I walked into the record shop Essential Music as I did every weekend. The guy behind the counter, Matt, also ran the only ‘alternative’ club night in town called Project Mayhem, another place I never failed to attend on a weekly basis. There was a sign next to him asking for a warm-up DJ. Out of nowhere, I enquired. Years later Matt revealed to me that he had seen me walk in and quickly posted up the sign in the hope I would see it, spotting my dedication and apparent decent taste.
I had no fucking idea how to DJ. Matt sat me down and told me about a night in London called Trash run by a guy called Erol Alkan. “Look, just check out their website. That’s what I’m trying to do here.”
Do you think your early club experiences still shape your artistry today? What one artist changed the way you think about music?
Absolutely. I was always drawn to DJs who offered something of a leftfield perspective: Erol, Weatherall, Optimo, Miss Kittin, Ivan Smagghe etc. I felt an affinity with these characters and they made me feel like I could offer something to a space that wasn’t naturally comfortable to me. That remains my mentality today.
Your music has taken many forms over the years—are you consciously trying to reinvent yourself, or is it more of a natural progression?
It’s a cliché to say but it’s difficult to notice such changes when you’re on the inside. All I can ever do is make music that excites me and feels honest. There’s no conscious decision other than a desire to not repeat myself. I know I could be living in a much bigger house if I’d made five more Drone Logic albums but I saw no point in doing so – there are way too many other corners I want to explore and life is incredibly short.
What’s one piece of studio equipment you couldn’t live without?
The studio itself. A quiet sanctuary overlooking the water. It’s the most important instrument I have.
You’ve written a lot of albums over the years. With the rise of streaming, the album format has become less favoured in electronic music. Why do you remain dedicated to this medium?
I still truly believe in the power of albums. Put your trust in an artist and let them take you on a trip through their world for an hour. It might just change your life.
You’ve played in Dublin and Ireland countless times over the years. Do any particular shows stand out when you think of Ireland?
I love everything about Ireland and Dublin in particular. The warmth, energy and passion is palpable. The last time I was over we were stuck in the middle of the moronic riots. The show the following night was obviously in jeopardy but seeing the whole city come together to clean up the next morning was incredibly moving. The Garda encouraged us to go ahead with the show and not let fear win. It was a perfect show and the experience made me love the place even more.
You’re playing all night long at Centre Point—how do you approach a longer set like this?
It’s my favourite thing to do. Much like the idea of making an album, it’s a chance to tell a longer story that is full of dynamics. The only preparation is the gathering of music – the night itself completely dictates the flow of sound.
Your latest book with Keffer is titled Techno is Boring—can you explain this title?
Time for another excerpt from the book. Out 1st November of Velocity Press.
Techno is not boring, clearly, but the culture surrounding it is where the truth can be found. A gathering of like-minded misfits, oddballs and outsiders all soundtracked by a repetitive, enveloping drone. Anyone perpetuating the myth that “humans today have lost their attention spans” need only spend some hours in a proper nightclub and witness everyone locked into the same tribalistic worship for days on end.
As someone who has already achieved so much in music, what do you hope to explore or accomplish in the future?
Simply to keep going. The eternal search for inner peace, transcendence and happiness
You can purchase Techno is Boring by Daniel Avery & Keffer here.
Photo Credits: Steve Gullick, Stefan Hanegraaf, Cai Griffin, Ben Glasgow
