A performer, an artist, a pop trickster, and–drumroll–a human. In this conversation, we dive into the mind of a boundary-breaking figure who's redefining what it means to create in the modern age.
Production
Photographer: Silver Mikiver
Style: Camilla Sundvor
Clothes: Tallinna Kaubamaja
Model: Florian Wahl
Creative Director: Paula-Stina Tasane
Not a single day passed this summer without someone in our household humming your AI-generated hit 'The Last Hetero' or, alternatively, 'My Bro’s a Lesbian.' I know for a fact we weren’t the only ones. Did you know what you were releasing at the time?
Not at all. These AI-generated songs weren't designed to be hit singles. The central idea behind the project (Flo Raadio) was to explore the notion that the music played on radio stations is indistinguishable from the music created by AI. I also wanted this hypothetical radio station to feature lyrics that mainstream radio would never broadcast. Of course, the songs have taken on a life of their own and are now played everywhere—in clubs, by both conservatives and hyper-liberals, and even on mainstream radio.
Genius! But are we controlling the machines, or are they controlling us?
We are the machines. Even before technology, we created systems and rules, like laws and social norms, that govern us. These systems are designed to automate our behavior, often without us even realizing it.
You’ve gained popularity so organically that one could say you’re an eco-label star. How did you do it?
The recent surge in local popularity comes after years of solitude and isolation from the scene. I’ve been working on music projects for over a decade, mostly without the glamour. People often asked what kept me motivated without an audience. For me, it’s simply fun to indulge in absurdity while also discovering something genuine to express.
Love it! By the way, I found a piece in Elu24 from 2012, where you said you don’t do any promotion, but if the music’s good and accepted by the audience, everything will fall into place. Can you comment on that 12 years later?
How sweet is the naivety of youth! A little promotion doesn’t hurt—though it’s even better when people promote it themselves. You have to imprint your swag on their cerebral cortex for that.
People are often surprised to find out that you’re a teacher. They probably think that you're in costume all day working on your next provocative move. How big is the part of you that’s a calm, collected teacher, and how big is the part that’s a crazy performer?
I never dreamt of becoming a teacher. Thirteen years ago, I needed a job and ended up as an assistant teacher straight out of high school. On day one, they put me in charge of a high school German class, because of my name. Then it was kindergarten, language schools in Japan, and now middle school. I’ve been doing this for quite a while, all while making music in the background. But now the turntables are turning and I have a lot of exciting opportunities as an artist.
Speaking of teaching… Where would you say Estonian youth are headed?
Towards the circles of Dante’s digital hell, maybe? It’s an interesting time for the youth, surrounded by a cacophony of tweets, terrorists, and poets, all blending into chaotic noise that eventually crashes like a wave upon the shore. Hopefully, some brilliance will emerge from it.
Let’s hope so… But you lived and worked in Japan for quite some time. How did this experience shape you?
I learned a lot in Japan. It was my first prolonged period of isolation, away from the safety net of friends and family, which forced me to become my own person. I rediscovered my introverted side and had only a few, but very close, friends–quite different from the life I had before. Low-key became an alcoholic. It is the way of the Japanese.
You once said that people aren’t interested in elaborate shows; they just want to hear songs they know. I disagree here. One of the best performances I’ve seen was Florian Wahl in KUMU, two springs ago. You could see middle-aged people, young peeps as well as kids in the audience—everyone enjoying it. Are you planning on doing more of this?
If the stars align, yes! Look, when I go to a show, the last thing I want to hear is the same hit song played 13 times. I’m not interested in chanting in unison or trance-like tribal dancing like sheep—that’s boring. But a lot of artists rely on that, and people seem satisfied with it. Or maybe I’m wrong and don’t go to enough shows. Personally, I need a spectacle, something truly worth leaving my man-cave for. If I’m going to walk around mortals smelling like Old Spice, it better be an experience!
Oh, word… I always thought you moved so well on stage. Have you studied dance?
Not really. I probably should, but more importantly, I need singing lessons. I've been part of a few contemporary dance performances in Tallinn and participated in some butoh workshops in Japan. Shoutout to Dairakudakan!
You’ve said that you hate collabs. Yet we find you collabing every now and then. Is there an artist you’d like to collaborate with?
Tiit Ojasoo.
Is there a field you haven’t set foot in yet but would like to? Tell us about it.
I would love to get into the fascinating field of gambling. Poker, slot machines, keno, lotto…
What’s Florian Wahl’s favourite way to unwind? We don’t judge.
Just between us… I watch unhealthy amounts of YouTube, while propagating a no-screens policy regarding my son.
That’s alright. We won’t tell your son. But what’s your motto?
Question the ordinary, embrace the extraordinary.
There’s a veil of secrecy surrounding your sexual orientation. What’s with that?
I thought having a child would clear up any rumors. Then again, maybe it's just a bit too perfect of a smoke screen?
Do you need a muse? Are you your own muse?
In a sense, yes. Contradictions (especially my own) fuel my creativity.
Say the zombie apocalypse is here. Who’s the last surviving hetero in Estonia?
The man, the myth—Hannes Võrno.