Welcome Corrne, thanks for taking the time to chat with us. Firstly, where in the world are you right now?
Hey, thank you! I’m actually in the studio of my publisher in Amsterdam, in the Netherlands.
You were classically trained and now operate in the realm of melodic techno and cinematic electronica. How did your classical background inform your approach to electronic music, and how has that shaped your sonic identity?
It’s funny – I get asked about my classical background a lot, but I don’t really identify as a classical musician. I studied music and had a lot of music theory training, and honestly, at the time, I didn’t enjoy it much. But as I’ve grown as an artist, I’ve realized how valuable that foundation has been.
Even though I don’t write classical music, those lessons gave me the technical tools to express myself freely and directly. It allows me to translate what I feel into sound almost instantly. So rather than defining my sonic identity, it’s given me the ability to shape it – to adapt, evolve, and express whatever I want to express with ease and intention.
Congratulations on the release of your debut album ‘A Place To Call Home’. The LP begins with “Home (ouverture),” written on a day of personal crisis when your mother was diagnosed with cancer. How do you translate deeply personal moments into musical form without losing subtlety or authenticity?
For me, it’s not a deliberate or forced process – it just happens naturally. On that particular day, I sat behind the piano simply to let my emotions out, not thinking about writing a track or making it about anything specific. I always have a field recorder running in the background, so I captured that moment without even realizing it would become something so meaningful later.
Because I rarely use lyrics, everything I express comes out as musical metaphor rather than literal storytelling. That helps preserve subtlety and authenticity – it’s just pure emotion turned into sound. I never sit down thinking, I need to make a club track or I need to make something that fits. I make what feels true, and sometimes that means a track lives quietly on my hard drive for years before finding its place. But I’d rather that than force something to fit a trend or an expectation.
‘A Place To Call Home’ is built around the idea of “home” as more than a location. How did your concept of home evolve over the making of this record, and did it shift between the start and the end of the project?
Really, that idea was always there already. It just became more urgent and relevant to me during this process. When I think about “home,” I don’t think of a physical location; I think of a human need. It’s about having a space where you feel secure, where you can fully express yourself and connect with others without fear or judgment.
I know from my own experience how heavy it can be not to have that, and it breaks my heart that it’s not something everyone can count on today. This album is an ode to that concept – to the need for a place where we can be our most authentic selves and feel safe. For me, that’s sometimes found in family or loved ones, sometimes in a simple feeling of safety. But more than anything, I’ve found it in music and dance culture.
Clubs, dancefloors, and festivals have been the places where I’ve felt most free, most accepted, and most connected. It goes far beyond the hedonism it’s often made out to be. A Place To Call Home is about identity, belonging, connection, safety, and expression – all the things that are fragile yet essential. These are the things I’ve lived through, and this is the story I wanted to tell.
Which track surprised you the most in development – where the final version turned out quite different from your original intention – and what was that evolution like?
The two tracks I made with Dan Soleil were both really special. We met for the first time in the studio with no expectations – it was more like, “Let’s just see what happens.” By the end of that first day, we had two songs: both of which ended up on the album.
There was a real connection there, both musically and personally. You can hear that energy in the tracks – especially Now or Never, where you can literally feel the fun and laughter we had in the studio. It was one of those lightning-in-a-bottle moments that you can’t plan for.
The album features vocalists such as Chris Howard and Dan Soleil. How did you go about selecting and integrating vocal collaborators, and what did they bring to your vision that you couldn’t have achieved alone?
Throughout the process, I worked with quite a few different artists. Some of the collaborations made it onto the album, and others didn’t. My publisher actually set up many of those sessions, just putting like-minded people together to see what might happen.
From there, it was about seeing what resonated – which songs felt meaningful and aligned with the story of the album. The five vocal tracks that made it were the ones that fit both musically and emotionally. What Chris Howard, Dan Soleil, and MRYN brought was their incredible talent and personalities. They’re all amazing writers, singers, and performers, but they’re also just really cool people. That energy translates into the music, and it’s something you can’t manufacture.
In “Agoraphobia,” you reframe the idea of fear of crowds into a search for intimacy within collective spaces – a dancefloor as refuge. Could you expand on that idea, and how your personal experiences in club and festival spaces influenced that concept?
Agoraphobia is very close to my heart. I’ve played it in almost every set for over a year now, and it’s become a staple for other DJs like Nora En Pure too. Musically, it captures the album’s identity perfectly – deeply melodic and orchestral at its core, with high-energy grooves and a big emotional build-up. If you want a taste of the record’s full emotional range, that’s the track to start with.
The name “Agoraphobia” translates to Pleinvrees in Dutch, which is also the name of one of the most influential melodic house and techno events in the Netherlands. I went to that party many times, and it had a huge impact on me. The artists they booked shaped my sound. Every time I went, I left inspired, emotional, euphoric – it made me feel safe and connected.
They had their final edition in October 2024, and after that, the event came to an end. So this track is my tribute – not just to Pleinvrees as a party, but to the idea that these spaces can change lives. This was my musical upbringing, and Agoraphobia is my thank-you.
You released a livestream from your set at Purified Johannesburg before the album launch. How do you approach translating the intimacy and emotional narrative of the album into a live or performance setting?
That livestream, like any of my sets, was a DJ set – and for me, the most important thing in any DJ set is connecting with the crowd. It’s about finding the overlap between the story I want to tell and what the audience needs in that moment.
Purified Johannesburg was very special because it was full of firsts: my first time in Johannesburg and the first time I played many of the album tracks live. I don’t change the tracks much technically – they’re mostly as they are on the album – but I think very carefully about the order and the flow, how the album tracks sit alongside others, and how that journey feels for the crowd.
A lot of it also happens in the moment. You feel the energy, you respond, and sometimes that means diving into something deeper or ramping up the energy with a clubbier cut. It’s really a collaboration between me and the crowd – finding that shared wavelength where we’re completely connected.
When you imagine someone listening to the album in full – late at night, on the dancefloor, or in solitude – what do you hope they feel or experience?
I try not to project too much of my own emotions onto how people listen. I know what the record means to me, but the beauty of music is that it can mean completely different things to different people.
What I hope is simply that it moves them in some way – whatever that may be. It could be comfort, nostalgia, energy, or something entirely personal. The moment you release music, it’s no longer yours; it belongs to the people who listen to it. And even though that can feel scary sometimes, it’s also the most beautiful part of it – everyone gets to experience it in their own way.
Now that your debut is out, what’s next for you? Are there sonic territories, collaborations, or conceptual themes you’re excited to explore in future works?
Right now, I’m really excited to play more shows around the world and connect with new audiences. I especially love playing longer sets – they give me space to explore more sides of my sound and take people on a real journey.
In the studio, I’ve been experimenting a lot since finishing the album. I’m exploring some clubbier directions, but also diving back into deeper, more introspective ideas again. There are a few projects I’m really excited about – all very different, but all true to me. I don’t want to say too much just yet, but hopefully we can talk about it again when the time comes.
