Leaving Room for Chaos: Improvisation as Artistic Truth

Improvisation is usually thought of as something that happens in the moment — on stage, in the room, face to face. But what happens when no one’s in the same room? When your collaborators are on different continents, in different time zones, each plugged into their own version of the world?

That was our reality.

This album was built through a kind of musical call-and-response across oceans. I’d write a guitar part in Berlin and send it out into the digital ether. A few days later, I’d get back drums from Los Angeles, but they were never exactly what I expected, usually they were even better. They were improvised interpretations. Not just rhythmically, but emotionally. And those surprises became the foundation.

Suddenly, I wasn’t just recording. I was reacting.

Each new stem I received forced me to reframe my original ideas. To adapt my guitar tone, my phrasing, my dynamics to match what had now become a dialogue, not a monologue. It was a form of improvisation unique to digital collaboration… not instantaneous, but just as alive. Just as dependent on listening, responding, and letting go of control.

Improvisation also showed up in how the album was shaped. Some parts were written meticulously. Others were left intentionally loose. In those spaces, I allowed myself to follow instinct over intention…bending melodies, shifting tempo, adding sounds that made no logical sense but felt right. It was chaos, tamed just enough to function.

This tension between structure and spontaneity was vital. Especially for an album critiquing algorithmic control. In a world increasingly obsessed with quantifiable outcomes, with efficiency and polish, unpredictability becomes a kind of rebellion.

And yes, it was hard. Letting go of preconceptions. Rewriting. Re-learning. It’s not the kind of improvisation you hear at a jazz club but it’s improvisation all the same. It’s trusting the process when the process refuses to be pinned down.

What came out the other side was something more human than anything I could have written alone. Something flawed, reactive, responsive. Something real.