Words With: TRjj, TRii, TRii Group
Conversations with a mysterious German artist on authorship, the intimacy of music, sharing art as a means of sharing oneself, graphic design, and more.
I bought it without listening to it. Why not?
At first, I was put off by its weirdness. Musically, it seemed to change shape endlessly, with no recognizable contours I could grab onto. Then I listened again, and again. And again. Its idiosyncrasies started to make sense, and I locked into its "neither this, nor that" off-kilter rhythms.
Soon I discovered the Bandcamp page for one of the artists, who called themselves "TRjj," or "TRii," or "TRii Group," depending on the release. I bought several records from them, shipped from Berlin. One of those records, Interest in Music, quickly became one of my favorites of 2024. In a writeup, I described it as "bizarre, otherworldly electronic pop musicâof sorts."
Outside of Bandcamp, I gleaned very little information about this artistâor group of artists. So I emailed them and suggested an interview. Why not?
As I discovered, TRii Group is one person (mostlyâmore on that below) who lives in Berlin, named Max Stocklosa. Though I usually prefer the spontaneity of live conversation, Max and I agreed to converse by email for convenience's sake. Because I knew so little about them to begin with, my questions veered lofty, even a bit existential, which is why this interview feels rather dense and heady.
Though TRjj and TRii Group might be unfamiliar names to many readers, this interview illustrates that behind the veil of artistic impulse, all of usâmusicians, artists, writers, creative people of every kindâare just human beings trying, as best we can, to connect with ourselves and with one another.
Even if you don't know their music, I think you'll find this conversation relatable and, at times, very dryly funny. The following transcript has been edited for clarity and flow.
on the intersection of personal and professional lives
I am somewhat involved in various practices. Editing and publishing, music, exhibiting, layouts, organising, researching. For a while now, much of my (volunteer) work has involved putting together a self-organised space, mainly for cultural and neighbourhood-related work, together with other people. In that space, among other things, I maintain a library (classifying, ordering, etc.).
I am really into ordering thingsâŠ
And then, of course, I do "money jobs" on the side.
Most of these things happen in group constellations, loosely or tightly knit, and are often realized in more or less self-organized manners, infrastructures, and distribution. I guess it's all cultural labour, basically.
Regarding the intersection of my personal and professional lives: the term professionalismâmaybe it differs in German vs. English and maybe culturally, as wellâcomes with a lot of problems, for me at least.
Like, how do we determine what is professional vs. amateur, legitimate vs. de-legitimized, and so on. Which, ultimately, has to do with power structures, I guess. Defining which knowledge is deemed valuable, usable, utilizable, and which is on the fringes and underrepresented. That sort of thing.
So⊠let's say, if it looks like I achieve some sort of professional status in any field, I usually also have some desire to jeopardize that status. Not wanting to be absorbed by "it," which in the end also means, not wanting to be absorbed by "myself." As there is hardly any "outside" of it.
It seems I am always already absorbed to some extent. Either way Iâd like to be on guard, when these professionalisation mechanisms deploy themselves, as they are so naturalized, normalized, that they have become barely noticeable.
But to answer more directly: I have the feeling that, structurally, in the cultural sector, it's almost a given that there is no distinction between the private and professional persona. I think it's quite funny, silly, and annoying at the same time. People, including myself, acting insolently professional in their own ways, can look quite goofy and unprofessional to me.
I am very often in awe that this is seemingly the well-functioning modus operandi of the art world.
on musical beginnings and musical evolution
I've been making music, sporadically and solitary, between other things since I was in 6th grade or so. A key issue was that I didn't have many friends who also shared an interest in music, and so it felt out of the question for me to show my recordings to anyone.
It was too embarrassing, and still is, at times.
Eventually, I met two guys (around 2009-10) that I started to exchange ideas with, which was a big change. One of them was not making music but was very knowledgeable and curious in finding new music. Back then, music blogs with downloads on Mediafire, Rapidshare etc. and sites like Tiny Mix Tapes, Ad Hoc, and Altered Zones existed. This was big for me. Discovering music and then sharing it by sending links, meeting up to exchange hard drives, making mixes, and so on.
The other person actually made music, but lived in a different city. We started by sending our own music to each other, with the guideline that we'd do it in a day or so. We also ended up releasing it together.
These two people, among others, certainly influenced me on several levels in regards to music-making, particularly in gaining confidence and then sticking with it. Later on, a sort of drastic change occurred when I put out the first record on Stroom, and the subsequent exposure I gained because of it, which I was not used to.
This Stroom record only happened through coincidence: a friend of mine had a friend, and he showed him music from another friend (which was me).
It's weird to say it because it's so obvious, but I often feel indebted to a tiny chain of people, and coincidences, that changed the course of certain aspects of my life. I mention this because I know a lot of people that quietly make music but never end up showing it to anyone (like I used to do).
I think a key factor was really close exchange and mutual support with individuals or groups of people, and I feel very grateful that I had and have that. In that sense, it seems strange talking about how I began releasing records by talking about myself, as I certainly think that I am only one tiny actor in a massive pool of actors.
The authorship, so to say, is quite scattered.
on the development of musical practice
The majority of my impulses probably come from other music. There is so much of it, and so it's hard to start naming examples. It's all over the place. But the experience of initially listening to something which leaves me dumbfounded, puts me in awe or mesmerizes me, is one of the nicest feelings, and hence I always seek it, even though it's rare.
It's quite typical, I suppose, that the music and musicians I listen closely to tend to become a sort of imaginary companion or ally. And this (projected) like-mindedness doesn't only influence how I do things, but that I do it at all, I guess. I think the same mode accounts for other less emotional influences, such as political or cultural thought and theory.
For instance, I was very intrigued by Terre Thaemlitzâs ideas[1] regarding non-cooperation, active self-sabotage, or active non-identification. Their ideas on how to confuse and complicate every unavoidable act of "becoming" forced upon you has really stuck with me.[2] Even so, I'm aware that some of those convictions can only be put into action by a person that is, in some way, in a position to afford the consequences.
Somewhat adjacent to that, I am also very intrigued by the political theorist Daniel Loick who wrote a critique of property, among other things.[3]
Terre Thaemlitz, Transcript of Guest Lecture #6 in the "Becoming Minority" lecture series at the Rietveld Academie of Art, Amsterdam, December 2, 2009. First published on comatonse.com (Japan: Comatonse Recordings, December 8, 2009). â©ïž
Mail ExchangeâTerre Thaemlitz: Late-Phase Identity Politics
last accessed 19.11.2024 â©ïžDaniel Loick, The Abuse of Property, The MIT Press, 2023 â©ïž
Those are just two examples that fostered my interest in authorship and my ever-present question mark on how to (or how not to) participate in this world. They also overlap with questions I am confronted with during music-making: concepts of originality, persona cult, property rights, exposure etc. are connected here.
However, I highly doubt that these specific theoretical influences I'm mentioning translate back into my music in any measurable way. It was never an aim, either. Quite the opposite: music-making happened on the side, next to an artistic practice that was often research- and theory-driven, which felt much more like actual work. It was simply exhausting.
Meanwhile, I made music for recreational reasons, quite an aimless practice, primarily for very simple sensual and affective pleasures: imminent explorations of tones, overtones, sequences, hardware, happy accidents, rhythms, polyrhythms, metallic-organic, detuned sounds, the oddity of using your own voice and all that.
It feels "dumbed down" compared to my other artistic practicesâin a nice way. When I'm making music, itâs a riddle to me what part of my head is being used, if any at all. So, my compositions are really associative, there are no big plans or concepts ahead of the production. Sometimes I try, but quickly give up again, as I donât have the discipline to stick with predetermined concepts to follow.
on authorship, collaboration, and the "Group" in "TRii Group"
[TRii Group is] mostly but not only my own music, as TRjj, under various names, but some of it is in collaboration with others, such as HipĂłlito, who is also known as Tulips or Sebastian von der Heide. Then there is E.O.M, aka Kristoffer Kjaerskov; the C3TRii record was done together with C3D-E; Inner Cop Avoidance is more like an improv band together with Sebastian von der Heide, Mathias Saedrup and Kristian Poulsen. ALEPHER is sometimes me, sometimes HipĂłlito, sometimes us both.
Then there is ZOVV, a frequent collaborator, who welded a very big and heavy cowbell for me. I use it all the time now.
Ah, and Iriai Verlag is actually an imprint run by Sebastian von der Heide. I think that's about it.
It does get complicated, unfortunately, when people, shops or distributors assume these are all just made-up names under one umbrella and thus the credit is not given to the musicians which actually do exist.
Constantly zig-zagging between fuzzy and lucid modes makes things messy, and I guess it's partly my responsibility to disentangle the author-jumble again. It's also backfiring in other ways: like you are labeled that "nebulous" person, or whatever.
on the influence of theory, simplicity, and collisions of "high" and "low"
Everyone comes with their own mix of experiences, encounters, socio-political backgrounds, possibilities, and so on, that in some way or another seep into their practice, whatever it is. Hence, for me, theory would not be excluded from that list.
But I am not actively employing theory in music practice, and hence I would not know how to trace down its influence within my musicâor let's say, maybe it's not in my interest to do so. It would also feel weird to paint that highbrow picture of myself when in fact, it's more like the opposite, trying to disengage from knowledge production and its institutionalised forms.
But if that's what's apparent to you, you are probably right as well⊠dunno, maybe it's both.
In terms of simplicity, I would say my music is often redundant, stripped down or rudimentary because I am simply impatient, wanting the production to be quick and immediateâa certain willful incapacity in regards to hardware useâand certainly also due to not being a very skilled musician myself.
On the other hand, maybe it's not all that conscious. People often refer to my music as simple or stripped down. I donât notice that too much myself, actually, but I am suspicious that this might have to do with my lack of skill as well.
Coming back to instruments and hardware use: I often fear that I have come to know the instruments "too well," so that I won't be able to return to where I started from, when I had all these question marks, and a lot of awe, coincidences, and illogical processes.
When I perfect certain production methodsâwhich is almost impossible to avoidâI also sometimes "conform to myself" more, and get tendentious, or winsomely. It's a weird place to be. I want to be skilled and learn, but on the other hand, I am constantly suspicious of my own desires to make things proper.
I guess the fear towards too much control is also applicable to the previously mentioned quote about the confusion and complication of every act of becoming.
On the other hand I donât think what I'm doing is anything quite like a novel act, as this mode of production is of course aligned with quite canonized and problematic figures, in the abstract sense: Those that constantly invent themselves anew, breaking their own and others' expectations, seeking a pure form, etc.
I guess it's all quite contradictory. Whatever strategy you apply, you seem to lose a little.
on working with Acting Press and stylistic influences
I got to know PLO Man around 2008, when I was on exchange in Vancouver, B.C. We were both students at the same university. We didn't have any musical relationship back then, not to mention club music stuff. We just hung out, actually.
Regarding influences, I feel like it's very hard to specify for me, and thus, kind of a boring list: There is footwork, dub techno, noisy techno, industrial, folk, jungle, rap, gamelan, pop, dub, ambient, free jazz, rock, post-punk, wave, downtempo, left-field, avant-garde composers, etc. etc. I donât know.
Recent things that I really enjoyed are for instance: Carman Moore, Eric Copeland, Sholto Dobie, Nina Harker, Le Diable Dégoûtant or Cheri Knight.
But also Charlie XCX, Moten LoÌpez Cleave, Sonic Youth, Lolina, Young Thug, Joel Chadabe or Container I like at the moment. I really could not sum it up, but other things that come to mind are humor in music, quirky stuff, things that oscillate between quite inept and quite skilled, polyrhythms, hypnotic stuff, goofy and melancholic moods, things that do not go together, ⊠like I donât know what that could be, it's hard to find ⊠For instance, maybe a bro-ish bassline together with folklore singing could be nice.
But it could also turn out shitty, like trying to combine two imagined opposites, but it turns out just being two opposites instead of a third thing evolving from it that you didnât know could exist, even.
on the Berlin scene and community
I am not connected to any club scene as I donât really go to clubs. I like it when I happen to go, but I rarely do, as it's quite a commitment. But in general, I quite often miss listening to loud music in a room full of people.
As for a music scene I am involved with, there are a few friends and colleagues that organise things around venues and labels such as Cashmere Radio, Tax Free, Kashual Plastik, Acting Press and World Loop, but I donât think I participate that much in any scene. I donât really have an overview either, it's seemingly always in transition, quite fragmented and dispersed. Also I donât have social media, so maybe that adds to a disconnection as well.
on visual art and the TRii Group design language
I never actually thought about it that much, but now that you ask and mention the simplicity of the design, I first had to think about the things I like and donât like, graphic design-wise. When it comes to more contemporary graphic design, it mostly puts me off quite a lot, like 90% of itâand to be honest, I'm not sure why that is. Besides that it's a very homogenous, conformist and boring thing to look at, maybe.
Maybe it's because I rarely see humble or sympathisches designâit's hard to translate sympathisch but I also donât want to say "honest," as that is problematic too. Maybe "direct" as in "direct access" to it!?
Contemporary design work in the art or music world, actually, more often looks like it is saying: "Isnât somebody else clever?" And I fear that quite a lot with my own work, like I'm doing just that, whether it is in music, graphics, art, text or whatever.
So the fear, or the thing to avoid, is becoming a mix of all that stuff: being snobbish, a striver, ultimately petty bourgeoisie. I mean, no one wants to be that, so of course this is also something a lot of people can agree on to reject but still a lot of (the same) people also turn into just that either way.
Maybe that whole sentiment is a class thing as well, probably a bit.
This simplicity thing also comes down to a certain ideal around "accessibility," around knowledge or exchanging knowledge. I shouldn't say that too loudly, or at least cautiously, because:
1. I donât think the niche realm my music is operating within is accessible at all, and
2. I also donât believe that I am making accessible design, and even if I were, this would come with a whole host of other problems.
So I am not yearning for "simple" or "dumbed down" design, or art, per se. (Like the concept of "plain language.") But maybe a (design) language that is not blocking access towards the actual thing or idea you would like to communicateâwhatever it is, the content, concept, idea, thought. Or in other words, that information is not so heavily soaked in jargon, "coolness codes," and a certain conformity.
I am not sure what that is, but it's neither "clever" nor "plain language" type of stuff. For instance, I'd like to see some more working class design, whatever that is, or at least I would be curious to know more about it.
To be honest, I don't think TRii designs or artworks are more accessible than others. Maybe, after all, I just mean to talk and blab about what I like and donât like so much.
on live performance
I have done several live shows, and there are some happening in the future, but generally I do have quite an ambivalent relationship towards live performance.
I guess this ambivalence comes somewhat by default, as making music in the studio, a solitary act, is something oppositional to performing a "prepared" or "non-prepared" fraction of this to the public. I mean, I really, really had to force myself to play live in the beginning.
Thankfully I got used to it, and learned to enjoy it, too. It's freaking me out less these days. One of the main oddities for me was, coming to terms with the fact that performing live music makes it very hard to separate between valuing one's sense of self and an objectified outside value systemâno matter whether I want to, or even am actively resisting that system or logic.
Because of this, it's not always that easy to find a sweet spot that I can feel comfortable within. Basically, a place in which I can value the experience of performance beyond being concerned with attention or affirmation, whatever that might look like.
To make it maybe more tangible, let's say you are standing in a crowded room with friends, chit-chatting, and suddenly, you are a singled-out persona that is showing something quite intimate, and vulnerable, to everyone in that crowded room, and once you are done, you just go back and merge with the crowd.
It's strange. Because after all, I long for something that feels like it's done together in one room, cared for from both ends, by audience and performer, something that erases a bit of the "frontal one-sided" situation.
But there's something that I actually like about playing live, which is this sort of out-of-body effect that happens sometimes. It feels a bit like not being present at the moment, but at the same time, being very focused on a weird sublevel of attention. It's a very pleasing detachment of oneself, and can be super helpful, especially when singing. Cause when Iâm too present or focused too much on, let's say, singing the perfect pitch, I can easily fuck up that pitch.
Technically, when I play live, the music is just a stripped-down version of my studio setting. I basically re-sample a lot of things from the studio, and have one or two live instruments on top. Not very exciting or inventive. It's a sampler/sequencer, one synth, maybe one acoustic instrument like a flute or harmonica, effect pedals, and voice.
on what's coming next
There are some things I did with friends that will happen later this year: Two more Inner Cop Avoidance releases will come out on a small label from London that I really appreciate a lot.
Another record will be pressed this year that I did together with Iris from the label TAX FREE and HipĂłlito from the label Iriai Verlag as well as with help from TBZ. And perhaps some solo work, too.
And today, actuallyâit's the 5th of February as I am writingâthe French label Mascarpone announced a small re-release edition of a tape I did in 2020 titled Music for Desert Reboot.
