PC Music fans might know Ultra Caro for her dreamy and wispy lead vocals with the neo-shoegaze band, Planet 1999, and for her collaborations with Charli XCX and Hannah Diamond. But even before PC Music was archived, the French-born, London-based artist had ventured on a self-produced solo project that’s poised to continue reshaping alt-pop. On her new EP counting sheep — and in an upcoming full-length album — Ultra Caro blends ethereal synths, booming 808s, hyperpop vocals and shoegaze guitars, made mostly from the comfort of her bedroom.
In this edition of Studio Files, Ultra Caro waxes poetic on DIY music-making, explains why she’s trading plugins for vintage hardware, and shares the career-defining lesson she’s carried with her since her teens.
Ultra Caro, you just released counting sheep — what was your general approach to the production of this EP and your upcoming album?
I focused less on the production in this body of work; it felt complete with a minimalistic set of elements. That minimalism is the production stance, I’d say.
I was more into capturing a vibe and less concerned with making things sound slick. I love DIY of any kind — even in terms of mixing, it’s becoming harder for me to get stuff mixed by someone else, even if I appreciate hearing what another set of ears makes of one of my tracks. But I’ve realised that I’m more into tracks which are mixed surprisingly, like some elements being too loud or upfront for no reason, or chaotic walls of sound.
There have been so many era-defining female artists and producers in the hyper-pop space, such as Indigo De Souza, SOPHIE and Charli XCX. How do you work to ensure your sound remains explicitly yours?
Yes, there are a lot of influential women out there, and that’s great. There’s still a long way to go — women music producers represent a tiny, tiny minority. I don’t think it’s necessarily a conscious choice for me to self-produce for that reason, but I do think about this extra layer of motivation at times. I’ve always admired people who produced their own work, because that’s how you get to the singular stuff; that’s how you make something unexpected, when you trust your instinct.
It’s important that women get to express themselves because music production is such a fun thing to do. But also because it offers such a rich set of tools to convey a point of view, an atmosphere, an emotional, intimate world…And I want to know what women think, feel and imagine.
Tell us a bit about your studio.
My studio is in Hackney Wick, London. But I still work a lot from my bedroom, honestly.
My vintage hardware is at home, but it’s nice to have two different environments to work on music in. I often get inspired in my bedroom at night still, and I use the studio more as a time to focus on mixing, or cleaning tracks, my samples — more for the ‘rational layer’ of it. I also use the studio for collaborations, it feels less heavy than being at home when I don’t know someone too well or when I want to explore another type of vibe. My home studio is my nest; it’s where I get into my little bubble, so I’m conscious of what I let in.
What’s your latest gear or plugin purchase?
I bought the plugin Permut8 because it’s been recommended to me by two producers I worked with recently. I haven’t gotten around to using it much yet, so most of what I do with it is very random still, but I like plugins which are creative and surprising; you don’t know what you’re going to get, but they transform whatever audio into something exciting that gives you more ideas.
I’ve had a similar plugin to Permut8, which is Sinevibes’ Fraction. I often run audio through it, bounce and then chop away little elements that I store in a bank of samples to use in different stuff. It’s a super sleek sound, and it can also be interesting for transitions or inspiring rhythmic patterns. I’ve run entire songs into it and it’s given me great soundscapes to build upon to make something else.
Ethereal textures are very prominent throughout your music, especially in tracks like moonrise. How are you building these sonic textures?
In moonrise, I tweaked a preset from Synapse Audio’s Dune. I also used three Moog filters by Universal Audio to create the phasing, EQ and distortion effects. When I choose a main sound to start a track with, I don’t consciously make a choice; I go for what I find soothing.
For my recent stuff, I use a Roland JV-2080 rack. There are so many gorgeous presets, and I’m very attached to the chorus within it. I also appreciate being ‘limited’ like that and having that strong sonic identity from this machine on my current songs. There are so many VSTs out there, a lot of good ones, but recently I’ve stopped being so inspired by them, and switched to vintage synths, or using my voice a lot, as chops or textures. It also brings a lot of shininess/noisiness, and I like that a lot.
Much of your work aims to encapsulate landscapes or fantasies from your childhood. How challenging is it to turn these physical places into sounds?
My first impulse when I make music is never really intellectual. I naturally converge towards this kind of scenery, musically. Sometimes I think that it’s also inspiring that I don’t live in the south of France anymore. I love London so much, but I guess I will always fantasise about the still haven that has been frozen in my brain when I think about that place. I don’t go back that regularly physically, but mentally I go often. It’s a sort of longing, but also maybe it comes from a desire to experience all of this in a different dimension, which is properly mine. Because in reality, I’m not nostalgic, and I don’t aspire to the stillness of the environment I grew up in. If anything, I’m running away from it, but I guess it haunts me also.
What’s a music production myth you think needs debunking?
Like a lot of producers nowadays, I’m self-taught, so I don’t know that much about ‘industry standards’. I know that I like imperfect mixes and gritty sounding things — I’d say that I get quite bored by things which are too ‘clean’. It’s good to try to randomise productions or give them more grit by purposefully deteriorating or tweaking some elements. I keep finding these super compressed/distorted tracks on Spotify, mostly cloud rap leaning sort of stuff, and I can’t explain how much I love that.
Who gave you the biggest lesson in your career? Can you tell us about how it impacted you?
I remember doing a singing audition when I was a teenager, and at the end, the examiner said to me, “You look nice, you sing well, but you’re standing there like you want us to love you. And that’s not what an artist does. An artist doesn’t expect to receive; an artist is here to give.”
I’ve always remembered that — it works for everything, because it talks about generosity but also self-confidence, doing things that you self-validate and stand by, and accepting that what you do might not bring you what you expect, but you should respect and offer your talent anyway. And if it’s not, it shouldn’t affect your performance or whatever you’re crafting. You do it with a different intention in mind. And I think about that for everything, including music production.
I always wonder, “Am I trying to show off? Am I trying to be accepted into whatever scene I like by making something similar to what the people I admire are doing? Or am I doing this because that’s what I really want to do and because it’s an honest representation of who I am, what I truly like and what I stand for?”.
The post Ultra Caro talks self-producing ethereal pop with vintage synths, and life after PC Music appeared first on MusicTech.
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