Déhà : Music is ruining my life, but I love it so much—more than anything or anyone else.
NOIRE: Hello Déhà. You’re Belgian, and you compose, produce, mix, and perform music. But who exactly are you? When someone asks what you do for a living, what do you tell them?
DÉHÀ : Well, I work as a producer in a professional studio—recording, mixing, and mastering albums for bands—but I’m also a coach (covering vocals, instruments, musicology, computer-aided music, composition, and so on). So, I’m lucky enough to be able to do whatever I want with my own music, too. Both sides define who I am. Music isn't just some minor or trivial part of my life-it’s everything. It ruins my life, but I love it so much; I love it more than anything or anyone else. That’s who I am.
I’m... yeah, kind of the cliché of the guy who lives in his basement, hardly ever goes out, and has social issues. I guess. I don't know.
NOIRE: Can you briefly describe your journey? Were there any pivotal moments that led you to become the artist you are today?
DÉHÀ: I started very early, but on my own, no coach, no lessons, nothing at all. I was four years old; my father had created a little program on the Amiga (long before PCs) that made "beep" sounds whenever I typed on the keyboard. I loved it; it was fun.
He introduced me straight away to a commercial program called OctaMED, which came from the world of "trackers", music composition software used mainly for video games back then. So, I learned by loading up music from those games, studying it as best I could, copying the samples, and trying to create something of my own. Naturally, the results were crap, but at six years old, I had something going. Even then, I thought it was amazing. I kept moving forward on my own, especially as I switched computers and moved to PCs after Amiga went under.
I moved on to Fast Tracker 2, then Open ModPlug Tracker, always tinkering here and there,making "albums" that were really just compilations of clumsy songs, though they sometimes had a nice idea behind them. Nothing ever got released, of course. Then I taught myself guitar and vocals, switched to professional software, and just kept going, solo. I never gave up, and I never needed anyone else. Just me. So yes, there were moments when I thought, "I’d like to release some stuff," or "I think I could produce a band other than my own." But I think the main thing is that I never let go of it. Expressing myself was vital, but if I could help others too... well, that was a bonus.
Fun fact: back in the Amiga days, there was a game called "Agony" (unrelated to the modern game of the same name), a side-scrolling shooter where you played as an owl (yes, really). The intro music was incredibly well-known and beloved within the scene at the time. So much so that, in 1996, a Norwegian black metal band called Dimmu Borgir (or rather, their keyboardist at the time, Stian Aarstad) completely copied that intro, tweaking and improving it (very tastefully, too) but without giving credit. That track appears on the 1996 album *Stormblåst* and is titled "Sorgens Kammer." That is precisely why the song is missing from the 2005 version, replaced by a new track called "Sorgens Kammer – Del II." Discovering that Dimmu had covered that song absolutely blew my mind.
NOIRE : Your music sits at the intersection of genres (drone, ambient, black metal...). What generally inspires you? Do you have a working method?
DÉHÀ: Everything inspires me, though it’s mainly my own life, emotions, and experiences, sometimes the experiences of others, or even "nothing" at all... I don't have a specific working method. Mostly, 90% of the time, it’s simply a need to express myself in a way I can't achieve through words, drawings, gestures, and so on. Each style has its own unique quality, a perfect gem to capture (lyrics for rap, raw power for metal, transcendence for ambient music...)—and therefore offers a different way of expressing oneself. It’s brilliant, really.
NOIRE : When we got in touch for the interview, you told me you "make emotional music." What did you mean by that?
DÉHÀ: It’s an expression of my emotions through music. That accounts for three-quarters of my discography. It deals with trauma, bouts of depression, and horrific moments of unhealthy introspection, but also lived experiences related to mental illness, and plenty of other things, each as "exciting" as the last.
There is a somewhat "meh" common thread running through it, but I don't want to focus solely on that: there is a quest for positivity and light in the music we create (take Colin from Amenra, for example). So yes, the cliché word "catharsis" applies, but that’s exactly what it is. An outlet, a form of therapy.
NOIRE : Your music isn't confined to a single genre; people often say you don't set limits for yourself. I recently interviewed Jeff Grimal about his project Prisme, which suggests the exact opposite—that we are confined in boxes and within our own boundaries from birth until death. Jeff added, "What we experience on the outside often reflects what’s inside us—a true interplay of mirrors." What does that spark in you?
DÉHÀ: I’ll start by saying that Jeff is a genius, and that more people ought to listen to him and hang on his every word.
Personally, though, that statement doesn't really resonate with me. Philosophically speaking, it may well be absolutely true: we are locked into a world that is "given" to us, one with a beginning and an end. But for my part, I’d rather look inward, trying to push past those limits, or, conversely, use them to create something within those constraints.
Then again, I’m just as much a gatekeeper as I am the opposite. It always comes down to a choice at some point, and ultimately, that’s what’s interesting: choosing to cut yourself off from everything, or choosing to open yourself up as widely as possible. Not one or the other, but both.
NOIRE : On the same subject, when do you consider a track to be finished?
DÉHÀ: When I just can't take it anymore. Seriously. Especially these days, when I don't want to drown in the process of making album after album. "You've got a song—it's good—save it for a compilation, but don't start another band or make another album, I'm fucking begging you." ...That’s the gist of it.
NOIRE: It is undeniable that you are one of the most prolific artists I know. Where does this almost constant need to create come from?
DÉHÀ: Expression—always and forever. It’s a vital need, as I said. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t, but I need to create. It’s the only thing I know how to do, anyway.
Prolific, yes, and it’s enjoyable. But I know it really works against me. I have so many bands and projects that a certain segment of the audience complains (seriously) and refuses to listen, for no good reason.
Even regarding production, for instance: I remember being tagged in a post about my band Alukta, and some guy commented that seeing my name anywhere made him feel "assaulted" because I’m everywhere (bands, guest spots, production, etc.). Well, sure—while I couldn't care less (it’s not my problem if the guy is too stupid and condescending to understand boundaries), I have to acknowledge that he’s not the only one who feels this way. And that’s not even mentioning labels that simply can’t keep up with the sheer volume of releases—or the variety of styles involved.
That’s why I release a lot of stuff independently. I still work with labels—each suited to specific projects, bands, or styles—and we collaborate without ego getting in the way of decisions. But I know full well—*very* well—that this massive musical output works against me. But I don’t give a shit. Honestly. Not my problem.
NOIRE: How do you view the extreme music scene today? What still excites you, and what leaves you feeling more skeptical?
DÉHÀ: I don’t consider myself part of any scene, even though people might lump me into one (and I have no idea why). The extreme music scene, like almost everything else these days, is just a bunch of PR firms churning out excessive, expensive promotion, stuffing everything with content just to get visibility and all that surrounding nonsense. I’d feel much more at home in a harsh noise scene, for instance, something truly underground.
An incredible, unknown band getting released by a label "just because," with promo aimed at the initiated? Yes. A band whose musical value is far outweighed by the money thrown at shameless promotion? No. Those year-end "best of" lists (which are already a joke since they come out in November—idiots) aren't about the music; they’re just a ranking of which PR firm managed to catch the eye of the media—digital or otherwise. That’s also why I’ve liked releasing something every year on December 31st since 2019. It’s a way of thumbing my nose at the system, in a friendly sort of way.
But I’m just an old curmudgeon, you know? I realized a long time ago that making a decent living off my own music is a pointless fantasy. Even more so now, right?
"Scenes" are really just labels slapped onto small groups of people who want to be associated with a specific musical style and/or culture (like Punk or Hip-Hop)—sort of like a metaphorical coat rack. And hey, good for them.
As for me... eh. Sure, I suppose people in the underground "metal" scene might know me from afar—maybe, I don't know. But I’m just "me"; I don't define myself by that at all.
NOIRE: In September, you’ll be performing at the Triplettes Social Club for Metal Pulse III—an event organized by Le Petit Salon de Metal centered on the theme of "Madness." It’s a word often associated with artists. What does it mean to you?
DÉHÀ: One might sooner think of extreme musical variation (think Carnival in Coal) and/or a truly wild show (think Strapping Young Lad or Screamin' Jay Hawkins), but here I think we’re talking much more about diverse musical styles and avant-gardism, a form of total art, uncompromising, with no desire to please or engage in digital prostitution. Yeah, I once played a headline set—why a headline slot, I don't know—where I played ballads, pop-punk, melodic crust, weird black metal, death metal, depressive black metal... It was a pretty cool exercise, though a "never again" kind of thing. This time it’ll be different, yet still varied. But I’m sticking with that "emotional" style. After all, that can manifest in so many different ways.
Madness involves so many clichés, truths, and proven archetypes, as well as fantasies held by countless artists who wish to be described that way. But it also borders on genius, on being misunderstood or "ahead of one's time," and involves a certain form of elitism, the idea that "if you don't get it, you aren't meant to."
NOIRE: Can you tell me more about your future plans?
DÉHÀ: Aside from a few scattered gigs, I’m steadily working on producing new music. There’s definitely an album coming out this autumn. As for the rest, my main focus is producing more bands. It’s a real passion of mine, earning a band’s trust, shaping their sound, helping them improve, and putting out something killer. Otherwise, I’m just going to keep healing and trying to move towards the light. That’s a good start, I think.
Merci à Déhà pour ses réponses fort intéressantes à mes questions et au Petit Salon de Metal pour la mise en relation.
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