Umeå (Sweden) – based Louise Ölund, known by the pseudonym louie.lou, has been creating music at the intersection of sound art and electroacoustics for several years. In her soundscapes, darkness intertwines with light. By combining organs, field recordings, loops, and synthesizers, she crafts a space where control and chaos coexist in a perpetual dance. Her work raises questions about the boundaries between humans and animals, life, death, and eternity—and the beauty that resides within it all. Experimenting with both analog and digital instruments, she builds magical soundscapes that captivate the listener. In 2022, she debuted with the cassette Försvinnaren, followed by the excellent album Ljusår the previous year.
In an interview I conducted, Louise shares her creative journey, discusses her inspirations, and reflects on how breaking through creative barriers has become an integral part of her musical identity.
Artur Mieczkowski
Artur Mieczkowski: Where did your fascination with music come from? Do you remember the moment you decided you wanted to start creating your own sounds?
Louie Lou: It’s hard to pinpoint the precise moment or the exact location of origin, but as a close friend – actually my partner – said: ”I don’t know anyone else that listens to music as focused and present as you do.”
The listening experience, the listening in itself, consists of, and yields very strong feelings for me: it totally activates my senses; both when listening to music and general ”sounds” on the whole. While I’m listening I want to commit and participate whole-heartedly. I find it even hard to do other things at the same time. I just want – really need – to dive right in; immerse myself fully, just absorb everything and float away. Because if I don’t, well, then it has not really been made justice. I also prefer doing this in solitary, preferably isolated and secluded, not really in the company of others, then it becomes something else. Did I mention I prefer doing it with the volume turned up LOUD?!
There isn’t really a specific moment, not that I can think at least, when it became clear to me that I wanted to make music on my own. But I remember that I longed for making sound and music in an uncompromising fashion. Before I started this journey on my own, I used to play with others, in bands etc, which in itself is wonderful in many ways, but I also always felt that I wanted to thread upon a path even more intuitive, both in attitude and approach to playing music, but even more so in the creative process. I also felt that I wanted to make this more experimental, and had had that feeling from early on, even as young and playing in various punk bands; that I wanted to make it less linear. I just didn’t know how.
Years later, I got my hands on a loop pedal and shortly thereafter found a growing interest and the right tools to work with field recordings, that’s when it really kicked off. Those two elements combined provided the basis for me to create in ways I wanted to, with the possibility of doing it on my own. By putting layer upon layer, as the method, it eventually allowed me to create works of music – works that I previously thought would require a whole ensemble! This revelation was to me the enormous creative freedom that I had longed for, and also the starting point.
A.M.: You mention your roots in punk and folk music. What were your first steps in the music scene like?
L.L.: I grew up in a small industrial town and in my early teens punk music caught my eye. Not far away, in a nearby city called Umeå, also where I nowadays live, it already had had a solid footing in the ground for many years, even then. So, during the weekends, my friends and I started going there (Umeå is about 1 hour away by bus) to go see shows and the bands that were playing. From there I guess it just opened up, mainly by being introduced to and experiencing it in a much larger context. Even though nowadays I don’t listen to as much punk and hardcore as I once did, I can still very much relate to the scene, acknowledge it. It still holds an importance.
Folk music came a bit later, and with that, more traveling. Especially to one folk and world music festival, where I think – in addition to the music that was performed – I enjoyed the company and the people that it brought. Rather quickly, almost there and then I decided I also wanted to learn to play that kind of music. I guess that’s how punk, as in my earlier reference, came to play an important role, maybe not so much the punk rock music in itself, but rather the feeling and the notion that hey! If I want to, then I can just do it!
In a sense, the punk scene and folk music have a lot in common, but are still in many ways equally different. I’m happy that I’ve had a foot in both camps.
A.M.: The organ plays a central role in your work. What led you to choose this instrument as your main medium of expression?
L.L.: Before I got the chance to play – even came in contact with it, I didn’t really have much experience playing keys, well, some accordion, occasionally. I mostly played traditionals but also composed a few of my own. Even then, with just the accordion, I loved hearing it and I remember how I was trying to figure out how I could play it, make it sound, perhaps eventually maybe even use it.
Just before I started playing the organ I got a piano. I played around on it, basically just to get the hang of things, maybe some figures, basically just doodling. But this was a whole new way of playing music for me, and what I noticed was how everything came rather naturally; playing, improvising, even writing my own pieces. But perhaps most importantly, a way to pick up and learn a new instrument. While I still enjoy playing it (I have a piano in my living room), I haven’t used one for any of my recent projects. At least not yet.
When I finally laid my hands on this organ (the same I primarily still use), it was love at first sight – it begs to be adorned! It almost felt like the missing piece of a puzzle which led to the natural conclusion that I would use it for pieces I’d already started working on. Pieces that, I’d like to add, at that time consisted mostly of field recordings. Aside from its beautiful and captivating sound (not to mention all the noise and hiss it often makes – it’s really an instrument with a life of its own). It’s got this presence, which suits me perfectly. It sounds pleasing and works very well within the minimal approach and for more melodic work. It can provide the intensity the situation requires, depending on what I need at the moment. It does wonders for melody and can provide this deep bottom end with a rich bass tone that I simply adore. For me, it has shown to be an invaluable tool in my music-making and for creating the right atmosphere.
It’s an old Yamaha, an electronic compact organ with a stand. It’s portable but still rather heavy. It sounds very organic and vibrates plenty. The vibrations from it can change dramatically from each time, just one of many factors I don’t have control over. It can even be something to draw use from and work with. Fortunately, it feels very much alive. Hopefully it will continue to accompany me on my journey. It’s close to my obligation to use it.
A.M.: The concept of human and animal coexistence appears in your music. Where does this fascination stem from, and how does it influence your compositions?
L.L.: When I lived in the countryside for many years, I spent a lot of time in nature. I guess it makes me a human observant.
In that environment I could some days see more wild animals than humans, hear the sound of the animals, follow their tracks and so on. That’s probably why I now, as the urban environment is more my everyday life, consider it from certain perspectives; I often feel that I’m kind of watching it from the outside, even though I am part of it, you know?
I also find it very interesting, the relationship between man – animal, their common denominators and what distinguishes them from each other. But also what it actually means to be human in the present time and civilization.
When I’m composing, these thoughts often set in motion an exploration; partly by going through the collection of field recordings, but also the theme itself – which can work as a source of inspiration and affect the way I work and compose.
Even if they are big questions – existential and comprehensive, they are at the same time site-specific questions. Being an animal or a human being in a specific place forms the basis of what these existences can mean.
Interpreting and translating this exploration and these thoughts often initiates creative processes for me, but it also happens that I compose completely without these starting points. It can also be very nice and give you creative freedom.
A.M.: Your pieces oscillate between sound art and electroacoustic music. Do you feel that crossing the boundaries between these genres comes naturally to you?
L.L.: Yes, it certainly does. I had really no idea how it would turn out, exactly how I would go about it or which sound sources I would use when I started. But I felt quite quickly what fell naturally and what I thought sounded good, as well as joyful and inspiring. Then of course it developed and I gradually found my own sounds and sources that make up the sound image I have today. Both when it comes to recorded pieces but also when I play live.
A.M.: You mention the concept of eternity in the context of life, death, and matter. Could you elaborate on how you transform these philosophical reflections into sound?
L.L.: I think that the desire to try to portray this is more based on a feeling and there I use the organ to a greater extent. To somehow approach the core of the source of life, the shift when life shifts to death and death itself; what would this sound like if it had a sound? Is there a melody?
The thought of sound and silence in relation to life and death was one of the starting points of my piece Evighetssyster. It revolves partly around searching for common denominators between all living creatures concerning the beginning and end of everything. Also the thought of eternity, that which we all have in common. The thought of eternity having a sound, preferably beautiful, is comforting. But if Evighetssyster affirms the pain of the transient and its uncertainty, the song En Början ett Slut frames it as the obvious way it has to be.
A.M.:
What emotions or states of mind do you aim to evoke in your listeners
through your compositions?
L.L.: Hmm… Perhaps that the listener goes on an inward journey, into him- or herself and gets a feeling of being part of something bigger? It probably doesn’t matter much to me what the listener feels, but it’s definitely nice when something happens to the listener. It has been described to me several times that the person who listened completely forgot the time and got sucked in and disappeared for a while. That feels nice, and perhaps in some way it’s also in line with being part of something bigger.
A.M.:
Your debut material Försvinnaren
was
released in 2022. How do you look back on this project, and did it
shape your future artistic direction?
L.L.: With the release of Försvinnaren, I felt it was time to leave some things, to let go and move on, but also release it, and thereby somehow document it. Put the songs out there for those who want to listen. So, you could call Försvinnaren a closed chapter. But, at the same time, I wanted to take certain pieces and soundscapes forward with me, maybe push them a bit further.
The organ came to have more and more space in the compositions, which did not take up so much space in Försvinnaren, where field recordings often formed the basis. Although these two elements are still certainly present, the organ now occupies a larger space when I lay the foundations for new pieces.
Försvinnaren was a collection of sound pieces that were my first productions and may have pointed in a bit more different directions, which felt nice to put out as a compilation release, but I think I got a more and more clear common thread after that. My aim is much steadier now.
A.M.: You experiment with both analog and digital instruments. Do you have any favorite tools or processes you particularly enjoy working with?
L.L.: Yes. For me, the organ is the most inspiring starting point. I play it mostly on a daily basis. I often try to play already written pieces in new and/or different ways, or maybe try different sounds, touches, vibrations, melodies etc.
It’s an old electric fan organ with a lot of life. There’s plenty to explore and for me, through the organ, I can both develop and challenge myself, but it (the organ) is also something I can rest in, a kind of security to sit down with for a while. It is my absolute favorite in several ways to explore and process sound.
I can also really enjoy the process of sitting with recordings and cutting and pasting with audio in an editing software. It’s a creative process that’s very pleasurable and I don’t know where it’s going to end when I start. Cut and paste a lot and just feel my way forward. But that part of the process doesn’t happen as much on a daily basis and requires a different kind of focus and devotion. But it’s something I really enjoy.
A.M.: Your work is very free and experimental. Do you set any limits for yourself, or do you prefer to avoid restrictions?
L.L.: My basic idea is to have no creative limitations. It feels important and pleasurable to be able to create intuitively and exploitatively, and that I do it for my own sake first and foremost., without thinking about what others eventually will think of what I do. Even though I do have my conceptual foundations, certain specific sound sources and a way I work, I want – if I get an idea that breaks away from this, to not shy away, but explore it.
But I’ve noticed a limitation I have for myself, and that’s that I want to put my own stamp on the process from start to finish. I specifically notice that I’m not that interested in searching for already recorded sounds that are available, sounds that I – if I wanted to, could work with and process.
Part of my inspiration comes from the fact that I collect and record everything myself, from scratch. It’s like I want to know where the sounds come from, and it feels more personal and inspiring to me to work that way, knowing so. But once I’m in a process I don’t feel any limitations, at best it just feels like a nice and creative flow.
A.M.: What are your plans for the future? Are you working on any new projects that you’d like to share?
L.L.: It’s almost six months since my album Ljusår was released, and the response it received was, well, almost overwhelming. I feel excited to go out on the road, play live, maybe get the chance to see new places and such. People have been contacting me which has led to me now having a few upcoming shows, both in the near and distant future. Some in places I’ve never played before, which is exciting to say the least!
I will also continue to make and record new music, which to some extent has already begun. I’m really looking forward to that, to focus, to find the time and put in the hours and just write, record and finish new pieces. I’m aware that I’ve already found a bunch of new different inputs, some varying in theme, while yet others more in elaboration, or at least in my thoughts concerning them. One which is fairly new, at least for me, is to experiment more with my voice and lyrics. In the past year I’ve been writing quite a lot of poetry that I want to compile into a whole as well.
I really enjoy the creative process itself, just being in it, and it fits perfectly here in northern Sweden as we have a few months ahead when it’s darker and colder and naturally spend more time indoors. But as I said, I want to travel and play more live.
A.M.: Thank you very much for the interview. I wish you the best of luck with your plans.
L.L.: Thank you very much! I find it interesting for me to reflect on these questions. So, it feels nice for me to share. Very kind. Thank you.