INTERVIEW: Kris Baha

Kris Baha has been a fixture on the electro scene since the early days in Australia until his establishment in Berlin, which is still his base. He has appeared on labels like Pinkman, Fleisch and Cocktail d’Amore only to start his own imprint Power Station, which is now home to his solo releases. It definitely caught my ear around 2020 when the two compilations called Currents came out.

Today, Power Station is becoming more active again after a couple of years with few releases. This occurs at the same time as Baha has given his productions a new sound, having really honed his skills in the studio. Finally taking centre-stage, Baha’s personality now shines through more vocal-based tracks with personal lyrics and a unique fashion sense inspired by the 90s.

We met in Berlin earlier this year, which was eye-opening after following the label and his artistship for ages. We talked a lot about things like algorithms, being yourself in your music and the current hype for all things 90s and 00s. Naturally, we asked him do an interview, as well as some editorial images in his home, which he shares with, among others, Jensen Interceptor. This is where he has his studio, where he spends many hours working every day. The interview delves into this work, with remixes, own productions, and of course the plans for the label.

Now that you’re making music with lyrics – are people responding differently to the meaning behind the track?

I think it’s always hard to know exactly how people interpret a song. I find it so beautiful when I can write about something, that might be a specific event that’s happening in my life, or a concept – and then when someone else listens to it, it means something completely different to them. Imprinting the listener’s own interpretation to soundtrack their feelings.

Writing lyrics was always a challenge because I’m not a trained singer/lyricist and I didn’t really know what I wanted to say or how I could articulate myself enough to make it flow as easily as writing music. Mainly because I hadn’t addressed my emotions when I had my first round of therapy in my 20s, but it’s a new skill set that I’ve been learning in the last years and then matched that to my production skill set over 20 years.

I think there’s definitely a bunch of people that prefer my original stuff over my new stuff and perhaps vice versa. I would love it if people who’ve been listening to me from day one are still on the ride with me though, but I’m also under no illusions – it might not be for them. I’m just trying to be as honest as I can with where I’m at artistically and respond through music – that’s my whole thing, presenting the most honest snapshots in time of where I am at and what I’m receiving from the ether that resonates with me at my core.

I will say though, when I’m at a show and somebody is singing back the lyrics, it makes it all worthwhile and puts everything into perspective for me, eradicating any kind of self-doubt or imposter syndrome that usually comes up along with all the other struggles of a surviving musician.

How important do you think it is to stand for something as a musician?

I think it’s important to stand for what truly moves you as an artist. Say what you feel, write what you mean – don’t release something for the sake of releasing it if it does not resonate with you. That’s my approach to artistry anyway. Usually, it’s the time between writing sessions that allows me to gain perspective on whether the recording session holds enough resonance and fits the narrative of the concept/theme of what I want to present in that season, to be worthwhile sharing with the world.

When do you say no to things? Both for personal reasons, but also as a statement.

Personally, saying no has been a hard thing for me through my early years. It’s a point that I’ve tried to get to in my career – that I can say ‘no’ – because I feel there is an unspoken pressure that you have to say yes to everything to move up with your career (not just applied to this industry, I think it’s in most). But in recent times it has come to a point where morality and ethics come into the business decision-making and no matter how sweet that dangled carrot may seem, it’s just not as important as backbone principles. 

Interestingly, in this divisive climate, it has become so much easier for me to say no, because I know where other people’s principles lie as well. Whereas maybe in the past, you didn’t really know. So that’s one of the limited “good” byproducts of social media. With everything being online, most of everyone’s laundry is out in the open and can be easily investigated to find out if someone or an organisation is on the level. 

I make sure that I’ve done my homework if I’m saying no to someone as well, because I don’t think we should be in a place where we just say no to things because we saw an instagram slide without doing the full research and knowing exactly what’s going on either. Due process and common sense is important.

You also do remix work and help others with production. How do you value this side of your practice in relation to composing?

I  would definitely love to say that I could just make my own music all day long, but we’re living in different times. So for me, it’s been more about using my skill set over the last 25 years of making music and trying to apply it to different areas. I’m really lucky and privileged to be in a position where bands come to me to remix their work as well as request production. 

I have mainly been remixing bands, which is great, as I think it helps bring different worlds together. That’s how I discovered a lot of bands in the 2000s. For me, a remix is a reinterpretation and introduction to a different musical world/scene and it could be something an audience might not have heard otherwise. Especially in these ultra-segregated times where micro scenes exist right next to each other, but nobody knows how close it all really is due to algorithmic locks. This I find sad. 

I really take remixes seriously and I approach it the same way that I would if I were writing an EP or a song, with the same amount of energy and fire I can put into it. For me, it’s also more freeing because I can try new production and musical ideas without being fully bound to it, so it’s a good way to experiment on things you would not normally commit to in an EP and maybe set up for a future release too.

As with my own music, I usually make several versions of a remix before sending one off. For example, Boy Harsher came to me specifically to remix ”Electric” and I believe I sent them three versions of differently arranged takes (after I had already done 2 totally different versions of it) and then I let them choose the one they gravitated to the most, so they could have an input as well. The same goes with Boys Noize, I remember Alex asking me to add some additional percussion in the remix of ”Killer” which I did for him in 2018. This also extends to bands and artists I don’t know, I’m also asking:”You got any notes? What do you think?” once I submit V1. 

And then to answer the other part of the question of helping other people with production: I’m doing this thing I call production classes, but it’s really more consulting or mentorships. It’s not a set curriculum that I’ve created. It’s based on individual problem-solving and the needs of an artist. Someone might be having trouble arranging, so we’ll work through that, someone else might be having issues with their live show etc. Obviously, it’s a commercial exercise, but I get to collaborate with other people by helping them overcome the issues they’re going through. And that also makes me really happy – seeing them unlock something they were having trouble with, helping someone achieve their vision.

You told me before that you have quite a rigid process for songwriting, that enables you to create a large amount of material. What do you do with all the stuff that never leaves your hard drive?

I’m creating for me, that’s the main purpose. That’s where it all starts – making stuff for yourself. I’m writing stuff because it heals me and because I enjoy it and at some point, it turns into commerce with some songs. Maybe I can package a few of these tracks and share it to the world. The ones that resonate the most, but for the remainder of many, many ideas that sit dormant on my hard drive, they act as pillars for my own healing and mental health, like therapy.

I save and keep absolutely every idea. Actually, just the other day, I was revisiting stuff from 2016, and it felt like a time capsule. It’s like looking at old photos of yourselves. Right now I’m revisiting the idea of making some slower stuff again and I thought ”let me just see what I was doing back then when I was writing slower music”. So I use it as a reminder if it’s something I’ve already done before as well.

I also build sample banks and templates by going back through old sounds, repurposing and reimporting them. That way you can keep being yourself throughout many production eras, because it’s still your own sounds, just reinterpreted in a different way. It’s all about the moment you are in – the same sounds can create different reactions. I really enjoy experimenting – I don’t even think of it as work, rather it’s serious play.

I feel conflicted these days about going out to a club or a party. How do you feel about this communal euphoria experienced in an era of really dark happenings worldwide?

It’s something that plays in the back of my mind, knowing that there is an invasion going on in Ukraine and then four hours south of where I am there’s a genocide happening in Palestine, as well as Sudan and the Congo. But I also think it’s really important to be a part of a community of people that have the same principles and ideals as you. Whether it’s the music bringing everyone together, or the collective (being known to stand for something) or something removed from clubs, like a protest or whatever – it’s the act of showing up in numbers (in whatever expressive medium) that gives people strength via solidarity.

It also shows that together our voices matter. Otherwise the ideals we have diminish and our ideas of how society could be become small – and then they win. Also, to be able to create and share new ideas, we need spaces that nurture this. Unfortunately, this was meant to be the vision for the internet in the 2000s, but it did not become realised and we are now tied to algorithmic loops. So it is more important than ever to be in spaces, irl!

Obviously there are other elements to it as well – if you’re going out clubbing drugs play a part in it. Ultra-hedonism, especially in Berlin, plays a part in it. I see how it could make some feel uncomfortable being in spaces while all of this is happening and also knowing there are some people in our “scenes” that don’t really care about these societal, global issues. But I do think we need to be together right now.

I view it as akin to the grieving process. What’s one remedy for grieving? Being with other people that feel familiar. And even though we’re going to clubs and we won’t know most of the people in that space personally, there’s still a sense of familiarity there. A certain sound, a certain artist, club space or party collective that draws people together and forms an environment where ideas, friendships, relationships are formed.

Livewire (Power Station, 2025)
Your Power Station label came back to life again. Can you tell us what your plans for the label are?

I was quite lost about what I wanted to present within dance music during covid. Like others, I wasn’t feeling like making club records, so it made sense to take a back step and present a different side to my artistry which I had been yearning to do. So I went back to writing songs and live music. In 2024 I started making dance music again and focusing on the label started to make sense.

The new releases we have done so far all happened pretty organically and fairly quickly. I wouldn’t say I was actively looking for releases from artists just yet, as I was using Power Station as a way to release my own stuff.

But I had been speaking with Francesco earlier this year who goes under the name Fall Shock and was originally making darkwave music. He really wanted to share a batch of new music he was working on and I absolutely fell in love with it – as his new direction was not too dissimilar to my musical evolution this year. So I asked him “look, I would absolutely love to release this if you are up for it”. He was, and we released it in October. I was so in love with the lead song ”Avoidance” that I wanted to remix it for that EP, and there’s going to be much more to come from Francesco in 2026. 

Then within a couple weeks of getting the demos from Francesco, I had a demo request on Echio (which is an artist platform where you can get feedback on your track from other artists) I was sent a demo feedback request from the artist Leaches which I loved, and I asked if they had any more songs. Within days I got a whole folder of music from Jack and we picked eight of them for a release where the first batch is coming out in December 2025.

I love when it happens organically like this, it’s like some sort of cosmic sign. I’ve always approached the label in that way too – a labour of love not a labour of force. It’s a means for me to feel like I can create a community of like-minded artists and share their work when it’s presented. For a quick plug, I also have a new record coming out so stay tuned for that.

A lot of DJs today are also producing, and sometimes doing hybrid live sets. How is performance related to selection when you’re DJing?

I guess the performance side of selection could be the art of storytelling through a DJ set but it almost feels like DJing has become too performative and has lost a bit of the artform, thanks to social media and streaming platforms that focus on the “performance” vs what actually goes on in the club. I feel conflicted by that because (for me) DJing is a shared communal experience – sharing stories, narratives and ideas through a DJ set.

You’re there with the crowd, feeding off their energy, responding, bringing people together to share the same vernacular, that is music. And if you really know what you are doing then you are also able to weave a story while doing it on the fly, responding and reacting to the energy of the room. A shared experience can have things that go wrong too. Not every set ‘pops’. Sometimes you need to change and adapt and react to what’s in front of you. Energies can be off and that is not something that a well-rehearsed performative set can adapt to.

For example, when you are DJing you might loose some people on the dance floor if you play a track that isn’t the vibe for that moment – it’s like a democracy, you know? And I feel like that experience is beautiful, because it’s something that you don’t really get when you play live.

When you play live, you can’t change too much as you mostly know your setlist. You are presenting a body of work that interprets your art via music – it’s a performance. Whereas a DJ has got a plethora of records that they could play at any given moment to fit the energy of the room. They need to psychically read it while weaving a story – there is a sensitivity to that. Don’t get me wrong, you also need to present what you want artistically, but therein lies the reactive and receptive nature to DJing vs a well-rehearsed set that just won’t work every single time.

I do get asked a lot whether I prefer live or DJing and neither is better than the other – they both present different experiences. Sure, you can make a DJ set performative – incorporating dance, visuals or other means of expression – but in essence you’re selecting tracks that you need to mix together. Creating metaphors in the transitions while reading the room is what I think brings people together. That is something that takes time, patience and experience, it’s not something you can’t learn on tiktok.

Is the influencer-as-DJ persona here to stay or do you think it’s a passing phase?

I think it’s a phase – I mean, I hope it is. I think we’re in that kind of phase right now unfortunately, due to how much social media has influenced the ‘underground’, or what is left of it. The era of icons and influencers seems to hold more social currency in our scene, and to promoters, and it can be ascertained via a 15 second reel. But I don’t foresee that being a viable and sustainable longterm model for anyone. It dilutes the whole experience of dance culture that was cultivated over the last 30+ years into a reductive desire for ‘fame’ using any medium to ascertain the attention deficit.

Unfortunately DJing is the new medium that is being exploited to reach this vanity. Nobody asked for this really, it’s not doing any good for our scenes whatsoever. Social media is destroying it year by year – separating us off to our own algorithmic microcosms. It has become less ‘social’ and more ‘media’. It reminds me of cable tv, but with millions of channels and everything being in a 3-4 second format. 

Becoming a DJ in 2025 is actually not technically difficult, if you truly don’t care about the artform (like what I was talking about previously) and only want to do it for the attention and the fame. For example, you have the sync button and all you really have to do is press play. Unfortunately, in most cases, it’s not even about the music. It’s just about presenting yourself as a self-proclaimed ‘icon’ based on your personality rather than any work that has actually contributed to a community.

There is nothing wrong with Icons by the way, because we need them. But they’ve been given this title because of their output and their ability to lead cultural movements through their messaging and what they stand for. DJing with the aide of social media has created an environment where someone can be a self-proclaimed Icon for no reason and even worse, stand for nothing.

It creates an expectation that, if you want to get your message out, then you need to present yourself online in a certain way, dictated by the algorithm. You can lose your individualism and your true essence, because you are actually conforming, rather than being the true version of yourself and what you really want to say. Is this who you really are?

But you say you hope it’s a passing phase?

I guess I am trying to keep hope in the culture of underground dance music, which has allowed all of us to grow, create and discover ideas of how we can live our lives and challenge the norms. It hasn’t been a perfect eco system either and has needed changes, but it’s an amazing thing to be a part of. It worrisome that we might loose it because of some social media apps influencing new generations and keeping them in algorithmic loops.

It feels like a Black Mirror episode right now, a 360 turn from what the whole point of underground dance music was: inclusivity, via other communities outside of the norm, creating other worlds and possibilities – a temporary utopia and escape from the struggles of real life where you can find your people and maybe even combat those struggles by bringing the ideas created in these environments out to the real world.

The influencer DJ era we are in undoes all the progress of the last 30-40 years and appropriates it into the mainstream ecosystem. Almost back to when it was just about good-looking white folk getting better opportunities than other marginalised communities. That’s what the social media companies want anyway, I guess, and why they have found the perfect way to loop us all like good, obedient, dopamine-deficient puppies. Where the fuck is the red pill?

What’s your best tip to producers who want to remain anonymous or only use an alias – how do you reach people with your music without becoming another HorsegiirL?

There’s a reason why HorsegiirL is incredibly popular – they’re an entertainment act, completely performative and using the shock factor to promote and sell the music. We are in an age where there is almost a million songs uploaded to streaming each week as well as a million ways to find out about an artist’s new music – let alone a new artist. Unfortunately we have to work harder to promote our work and find ways to get our message across, as we are competing for 2-4 seconds of people’s attention as well as fighting an invisible force (The Algorithm). Being more individual is important more than ever, and going back to smaller irl communities.

By leaning into the uniqueness of what really makes you ‘you’, you stand out amongst the crowd: writing stuff that you want to hear and that moves you – truly moves you at your core – not getting caught up on “how things should be” only makes your output more potent and relevant. Even though we are now actually living in the metaverse (online), there’s a part of me that still believes certain things will stand the test of time. And I think that’s something important to also keep in the back of your mind: that the most potent, powerful music you write is the most resonant to others and can stand the test of time.

I also think that a healthy exercise to do is to write down some ’expectations’ of what you hope to present from yourself artistically, like a bit of a blue print that you can keep coming back to. What is it that you are trying to say or achieve? Define all of that as clearly as possible for yourself, so then you are under no false expectations – especially if certain things don’t go the way you hope they would.

For example, if you are making experimental music and you want to write 2 albums in 2 years but also want to play to millions of people and have virality, well, finishing those albums is more probable than playing to millions or having some mainstream virality. To summarise, define what you want to create artistically so you have a clear understanding of it, lean into the things that make you ‘you’, find a community, collaborate with those in the community, grow together and enjoy the ride as much as possible and don’t let the game influence you or your inner voice. I think that leads to a longer, peaceful, honest and rewarding creative life that you can be proud of.

We’re living in a great age for bedroom artists to have their dreams actualised overnight, which is great but the gatekeepers have now shifted to different roles, the main gatekeeper right now being the algorithm. That’s really the final boss you need to beat as an artist – once you crack it, your message is out to the world.

Thank you KB.

Follow Power Station on bandcamp.

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