Now, 11 years ago, there was this moment when my brother excitedly told me that there is this software, Ableton, and even idiots can make music with it. Playstation? Anyway, he always kind of showed me that it is possible for humans to make music on a computer, and it stuck. So I always said whatever so he left me alone to play with whatever it is I have been playing with. Every time he was creating a thing, art, music, 3D whatever, he always called me to ask me for my opinion. Now, my brother heavily influenced me without me actually noticing. You know, just jamming a thing out and letting it sit there as the unfinished project file that you never touch anymore. My brother did A LOT of stuff, but he never got very far in anything and kinda stuck to maybe making a song, or maybe not. Then he learned that you can make music with things called trackers. Back in the DOS ages, he had this drawing program which could do slide shows, so he decided to make little movies by having the slide shows auto advance while recording sound effects, music, and narration on a cassette player. My brother has always been creatively charged. However, in my later years I did learn that I had no troubles learning English, or understanding basic music theory.īefore I tell you how I started out making music, I gotta tell you about my brother. Lo and behold I was perfectly mediocre at school. I couldn’t read yet, but I managed to beat this text heavy game. This went so far that I bugged my brother to show me how to start and play Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. It was playful and I wanted to learn more about these magical toy devices. The only thing I was interested in was the silly screensaver that was running on it, about a guy stranded on an Island, doing random events to kill time. My mum had a brand new PC that she got from her office so that my brother could learn how computers work. When I was 4 or 5 years old, I woke up one morning, to my brother’s birthday. So I guess you could say I’ve had an average childhood in a small town maybe two hours south of Berlin. They’ve struggled, but they did well! I’ve been raised in a family that always was able to sustain themselves. My parents immigrated from Soviet Russia to Chemnitz with the hope that business is gonna be better than it has been near Moscow.
A few months later after the wall fell, they quickly, slightly embarrassed, renamed the city back to its original name, Chemnitz. Which has the funny side effect that the city I’ve been born in still had the name “Karl-Marx-Stadt” (Stadt translates to city). I was born in Eastern Germany in 1989, just when the Berlin Wall was still around.
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