Alexander Saykov

In my home town of Kaluga there is much space between the buildings, which obstruct neither earth nor sky. Visitors often tell hearted tales of the colour of clouds and of the curious constellations here. At one point you realize that all words of beauty have already been said, yet the need to express a universe of feelings still remains. At 17, when I discovered electronic music, it seemed to me that I'd finally found that universal language. It's a language which can describe not only the boundless atmosphere of space, but also the feelings that come from looking there, into the mind-numbing depth of the night sky. Learning the language turned out to be something of a daunting task. Years went by as I tried my hand at different genres, during which I've been able to master computer technology and graduate with a university degree. I found new depth in the knowledge I'd gained there -- chemistry and physics turned into hard techno beats, while astronomy mellowed my tracks and gave them the ebb and flow of melody. Life in the capital of Russia introduced new shades still to my music. The gyrations of the megapolis, its heartbeat and its salient power-lines all poured into a woven rhythm -- which, as it turns out, already has a name. Such clusters of sonic energy compose dub techno, with its flowing pulse and its soft reverbs. Styles and fashions change, as do we, while the Universe is ageless and infinite. Music is a gift to people, I think -- to let them become closer to the stars. To let them hear the iridescence of the northern lights. To allow them to experience the first spark of a star and it's last breath .