tunesday – paris is finding her way back to music

Creating my upcoming album Labyrinth was an unexpected journey of rediscovery. When I initially began, I didn't realise the music I was crafting wasn't truly meant for that project. It emerged from a period of deep personal struggle – a time when I felt profoundly lost and disconnected, like a stranger in my own life. Despite being surrounded by loved ones, a sense of not belonging – of feeling adrift – permeated everything.

The pandemic hit at a pivotal moment, halting not just my music career but also my primary sources of inspiration: exploration, travel, and the vibrant human connection found through music and dance. The fear and uncertainty surrounding my future in music weighed heavily, and I found myself in a creative drought. My initial attempts at writing were rigid and forced, a reflection of my desperate need to control the uncontrollable.

My turning point was embracing a mantra of 'letting go'. I stepped outside of myself, shedding the desire to control external circumstances and even my own emotions. It was about releasing the pressure to prove myself and – instead – rediscovering the pure joy of making music for fun. I tapped into the curious side of my brain, and the studio sessions began to loosen up, infusing a playful energy into my production.

Having been in the music scene for a while, I’d weathered various trends, but navigating a period where my sound wasn't trending was a new challenge that sparked significant uncertainty about my future. The thought of reinventing myself crossed my mind, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Authenticity is paramount to me; I'm not an artist who can simply follow trends.

Instead, I delved back into the music that first ignited my passion for electronic sound. Rediscovering those formative tracks reignited a spark that had been missing. Much of the new music being released at the time just wasn’t connecting with me. Revisiting old albums by artists who originally inspired me provided a much-needed wellspring of excitement for writing again.

The biggest takeaway from that transformative period was the importance of injecting play back into my creative process and staying present, without any expectation of an outcome. I stripped back my production, embracing a more minimalist approach to plug-ins and processing. The focus shifted from catering to external expectations to creating music solely for myself – music that genuinely excited me.

I started to use my hardware as if I were a kid playing with toys. Often, I'd have no idea where I was going, but inevitably, I’d stumble upon a sound, melody or texture that felt intriguing and exciting. This often became the core of a track, and my focus then shifted to preserving that initial feeling, supporting it with complementary elements and elevating it.

Nature is another profound source of inspiration for me. Feeling stagnant in Sydney/Warrane, I made the bold decision to move to Byron Bay/Cavanbah. That change of scenery proved incredibly creatively stimulating, with the second half of the album’s writing being completed there – and some even when I was in between homes crashing at my auntie’s in Kiama for a month. Being on the road – with small setups in temporary spaces – has always sparked my creativity. This is precisely why the lockdown was such a struggle; the inability to travel and explore truly stifled my musical flow.

Constantly exploring this beautiful world, whether it's performing in different cities, venturing into nature, admiring inspiring architecture or witnessing art of all kinds, is now a fundamental part of my creative process.

Ultimately, Labyrinth is a testament to the idea that sometimes you have to lose yourself to truly find yourself again. It's an album born from struggle, transformed by self-discovery, and infused with the renewed joy of making authentic music.

You can pre-save PARIS' album here.