The Berlin-based artist on confronting chaos, embracing vulnerability, and making noise with purpose.

On her new album Abyss, Anika doesn’t hold back. It’s her rawest, loudest, and most emotionally direct work to date – a rallying cry for collective action and personal liberation, born from frustration and a longing to connect. Recorded live to tape at Berlin’s legendary Hansa Studios, the album captures an urgency that can’t be faked, channelling everything from 90s grunge to disillusionment with the state of the world.

Across our conversation, Anika speaks with disarming openness about the power of community, the importance of listening, and the messy, often contradictory nature of being human. She’s unafraid to ask big questions or to let her guard down – both in her music and here, in this Q&A.

For those unfamiliar with your music, can you tell us who you are, where you’re from and about the music you make?

My name is Annika and I have a project called Anika – blame Geoff and Beak> (with whom the project began) for the name choice. I’ve made music for the last 15years, kind of unintentionally because I’m a very shy person. But somehow it has become a beautiful way to express things and have an exchange with people from all over the world. It’s an odd project; always investigating things, unanswered questions, confusions about the world, breaking down what appears to be normal or acceptable. The genre is confusing, having listened to so many different things as a kid and adult, so it is a mish mash of all.

Abyss is described as your heaviest and most urgent album yet. What pushed you in this direction sonically and emotionally?

The state of the world. ‘Change’ was very much a contemplation album – we were forced to stay indoors, felt very helpless about all these things going on, feeling very tranquilized. This album is more about action, getting up off your seat, going outside and standing up against things we don’t like – building safe spaces for communities and getting angry together – fighting injustice and bullshit.

You recorded the album live to tape at Hansa Studios. How did that process shape the energy and feel of the record?

It was very important that this album be recorded all at once with no overdubs. This meant all instruments played at the same time and vocals too – to create a sense of reality, of urgency. For the occasion I put together a live band made up of my favourite musicians. Luckily they all said yes to playing on the record. They all brought their own life, their own energy and style, creating this very much living beast.

“Hearsay” takes on media manipulation and misinformation. Was there a specific moment or event that inspired the song?

All of it. From the beginnings of media and how it can be miss-used to manipulate people or create a fake sense of reality. It’s very similar to what a narcissist does – if you control the environment, you can control the message. If you make people sceptical of everything and confuse them, you can make yourself appear to be the only ‘trustworthy’ one. All my songs are inspired by so many different emotions, people, references. They are a mix of everything – which is the true nature of the world – nothing is pure, we are a sum of our parts, our very nature is to be a complex mix of so many things, whether atoms, gases or whatever else.

You mention the rebellious nature of 90s grunge, particularly Hole’s Celebrity Skin, as an influence. What drew you to that era’s sound and attitude?

During corona I listened a lot to ‘Celebrity Skin’ by Hole. I felt very trapped in this time for a number of reasons, also beyond the corona quarantines. Listening to this album gave me a release, it allowed me to feel emotions I couldn’t feel in other contexts. I actually wrote most of the text to the Abyss song during this period. I think that’s why I wanted to call the record Abyss. It was this rawness that I wanted to convey in this record, not only convey but experience and let out all the real emotions I trap inside all the time, to be palatable to society. I’m tired of this. I’m tired of feeling restricted by other people’s opinions of me, of having to reach this impossible standard that everyone expects – how to dress, how to formulate opinions about complex political matters, how to walk, how to talk – I want to break free from this suffocating web of expectation and cut a hole into a universe where there is more oxygen. Please feel free to join.

Abyss is a deeply physical album, meant to pull listeners out of their heads and back into their bodies. How did you approach translating that energy into the live show?

It was for this reason that I put together a full live band, luckily again made up of most of the musicians from the recording. This energy could not be from a box. It needed to be from experienced and weathered humans / musicians. We come with all our histories, our hurts and our joys. We come with it all hanging out. I hope that people will be so much in the show that they will forget to take out their phone.

There’s a lot of frustration in the album, but also a call for unity. How do you see those two elements coexisting?

I think we need healthier ways to vent our frustration and also to come together instead of fighting each other on things. I have witnessed a lot of the left fighting the left in the last year, which essentially weakens the left, meanwhile, the right is quite happy to unite on hate, regardless of what kind of hate. So unity is a very important theme and also a healthy space for debate and listening. It’s also ok to not have an answer sometimes and in those moments you can just listen. That’s why I read a lot when I’m lost. I love how books offer us the best kinds of teachers in the world. For not a high price.

Tracks like “One Way Ticket” and “Oxygen” deal with political and social issues. Do you feel a responsibility to engage with these topics in your music?

It’s not so much of a responsibility as in it is truth – it is things that I am worried about, things I want to fight for, things that consume my brain on a daily basis. Everything is political. We are all responsible. We are all connected to our surroundings. We co-exist. However much this narrative of the singular is pushed, we are actually inescapably bound, in the most beautiful way.

You’ve worked with Martin Thulin of Exploded View again on this album. What makes your collaboration work so well?

I love working with Martin because he is so open. He has nothing to prove, so he always asks: what shall we do now? He never tries to push an idea on me. When I say something is not right, he doesn’t take it personally, we try something else. He gets my weird ways of trying to explain what I want. He also has a childlike energy, so we can both mess around and not worry about who is listening, which is way more creative, and also fun and honest. We also have great in-depth conversations about everything spanning politics and the most absurd or trivial stuff. He’s one of the few people I can speak completely openly with, without fear of judgement. He challenges my opinion often of course. But that’s the beauty of it. Being challenged enables growth.

The album cover features androgynous bodies drawn by a teenage friend of yours. Why did that image feel like the right fit for Abyss?

Because we are all bodies. More combines us than separates us. Because gender politics is such a vessel for control and domination, for exclusion and repression. Our body is our body. Leave mine alone.

You’ve said this album is about breaking free from holding back emotions. Was there a moment in making Abyss where you really had to push yourself to be that honest?

In walk away, i thought i should cut the third verse because it was maybe a bit much. I ended up leaving it because I thought fuck it, who am I hiding from?

You’re about to embark on a full European tour. What do you want people to take away from the live experience?

I hope they can immerse themselves fully into it and forget to take pictures.

What do you love right now?

My ex. Fuck.

What do you hate right now?