Start Listening To: FLOCO

Fusing folk roots with experimental electronics, FLOCO builds a dreamlike world that’s as intimate as it is immersive.

On her debut EP I’ll Be My Own Mirror, North London-based artist FLOCO channels the push and pull between solitude and connection into what she calls “cyberfolk”, a tactile blend of ambient electronics and folk-inspired songwriting. Speaking with us ahead of her first headline shows, she reflects on the winding path to finding her sound, the quiet power of self-sufficiency, and the small, accidental moments that shaped her record’s world.

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

Hi, I’m FLOCO, I grew up in Devon, but have made both Leeds and London my home as an adult; I’m currently living in North London. I’ve adopted the term ‘cyberfolk’ to describe the music I make, which is basically a combination of electronics and folk inspired songwriting.

Your debut EP I’ll Be My Own Mirror is described as a “tactile incantation of transitional waking dreams.” Can you unpack what that phrase means to you?

My approach to producing is very hands on. Coming from an instrumental background, I found it hard to visualize production without making the actions physically, so I bought a couple of effects pedals and let those lead the creative process. I use repetition of words and phrases a lot in my writing, which is where the ‘incantation’ comes from. I’ve realised it helps me process whatever I’m going through at the time, although that’s not a conscious decision when I’m writing. The dream element comes from the way I use delays and looping in the music to abstract vocal lines. This creates a space that, for me, escapes the traditional passage of time in a similar way to dreaming.

The title track is both a mantra and a confrontation with isolation. How did that theme develop while you were writing?

Writing I’ll be my own mirror spanned multiple periods of my life, including a break-up during lockdown and the beginning of a new relationship. I was thinking about how the perception of my own identity shifts when reflected by other people. I think this is both a beautiful and potentially dangerous thing and the song reminds me of my strengths as well as my vulnerabilities. I can be very independent, which I think helps maintain integrity, but I can also end up isolating myself. If that’s out of fear/ lesser need for social interaction I’ve not quite got to the bottom of yet. I think that’s a whole different song.

You’ve said the EP is a dialogue with yourself. What did you learn about self-sufficiency and vulnerability during its creation?

It’s one of the first songs I made using my live production set-up. It felt really good to find a sound that felt personal to me and to know that whatever happens I could produce the whole song myself. I was also learning to be vulnerable creatively around other people, as I was living with a group of very active producers/writers. Even recording the Wurlitzer at the Goldsmiths studios was a big step for me, because I’ve previously been so shy about my production that recording something outside of my bedroom was an achievement.

The project blends ambient electronics with folk at its core. How do you balance those two worlds in your songwriting?

I grew up in Devon, which has a great folk scene. I loved going to Sidmouth folk festival as a child and I had violin lessons from an incredible singer and fiddle player Jackie Oates. I think that really set me up for always including traditional elements within my musical language, whether I like it or not. In more recent years I became interested in electronic music and started incorporating effects pedals into my songwriting. I think the nature of the electronics I use really compliments folk music, as they are both so live performance based. I often don’t quantise the loops I make, or record riffs to extremely slow metronomes, which creates the push and pull of performance in the productions. What I love about folk music is the dialogue through time of singing songs written hundreds of years ago. When I layer my productions in this way, I feel like I’m conversing with myself.

The hallucinatory video for ‘I’ll Be My Own Mirror’ feels deeply tied to the music. How do visuals help you express the atmosphere of your songs?

When I write songs, I often imagine visuals at the same time. They don’t feel like separate processes, but all part of the same world. Dave just perfectly understood the references I gave him, and I had no notes when he sent me the video. The way he used found objects as effects especially resonated with my approach to production, as very hands on. 

You’ve collaborated with Martha Skye Murphy and the London Ambient Orchestra. How did those experiences shape the way you approached your own solo work?

I think collaborating is so important because it gives me the energy to keep going with my solo work. It’s been really inspiring to play violin in Martha’s band, because she strikes the perfect balance of having such a solid creative vision whilst trusting her band members when there are more improvised sections. 

I started playing with The London Ambient Orchestra when I first moved to London. I was so relieved to find a group of people who approached music in a similar way to me, and the opportunity to try out members’ compositions, Oliveros compositions and my own has definitely fueled my love and knowledge of ambient music.

Writing, producing, and mixing the EP yourself must have been a huge undertaking. What were the biggest challenges and rewards of handling every stage?

I think the biggest challenge was to get to the point where I was confident enough in myself to even imagine writing and producing a whole project myself, I think that came from seeing other women, trans and non-binary people making music around me when at Goldsmiths. Making this EP actually didn’t feel like hard work to me at all, I think because it’s my first project and everything was just discovery for me, I didn’t really have any expectations of myself. Mixing it however, was where the work began, because when you spend so much time with a piece of music and imagine presenting to other people, self-doubt really starts to emerge. It’s really satisfying to push through those doubts though and say, well I actually finished it!! 

The EP was born from improvisation and experimentation. Do you see improvisation as central to your creative identity?

I think it’s always been a part of my musical identity. I’d get sidetracked in my practice sessions as a child by making up little melodies inspired by a piece I was learning. I don’t write music with a lot of improvisation now, but it’s definitely how a lot of my ideas are born and allows me to connect with other people on a different plane to conversation.

There’s an intimacy in the way you use processed and found sounds. Can you tell us about a specific sound on the record that feels especially personal or significant?

I think the broken key chain is really important. It signifies my move to London, falling in love with the new friends around me, and romantically, and just having a new lease of life and creativity coming out of lockdown. It’s also a really personal item because I wear it a lot, and love that I always have to incorporate it into my outfit when performing FLOCO live. It was an accident that it ended up in the record, I was just wearing it when I was recording and almost took it off, then realised I could be a great texture. 

The cassette edition comes with a six-page concertina zine. What role does the visual and tactile side of the release play in completing the world of the EP?

Making the zine has been a very interesting process for me, I’m discovering new interpretations and meaning behind the music and lyrics. I’ve been making 80% of the artwork by hand using cyanotype printing and literally writing things out so it’s been quite laborious. I want it to feel like a letter / scrapbook you might make for yourself, gets abandoned for years and then is found moulding away in some old house somewhere. 

What do you love right now?

Eating a raw carrot whilst on a walk

What do you hate right now?

Windows that don’t open all the way

Name an album you’re still listening to from when you were younger and why it’s still important to you?

The self titled first album by Jackie Oates. I know almost every word to those songs, and it’s just complete escapism for me. The sparse arrangements of often morbid English folk tunes conjure a dark woodland that I’ve not escaped as an adult. It’s very sentimental to me as she was my first violin tutor, and really inspired and encouraged my interest in music. 

When someone hears your music for the first time, what do you hope sticks with them?

I found this question really hard to answer, I think if I’d thought in those terms whilst making the tunes I’d have been paralysed. I think the best I can say is I really tried to make something that felt honest to me and was some kind of catharsis. I hope that comes across when people are listening. 

With your first headline shows coming up, what can audiences expect from a FLOCO live performance that they might not get on record?

My live sets often include songs and transitional moments that I’ll never record, veering into noise music and more experimental sound-art territory. I also include improvisational elements on the violin and more folk tunes. In my upcoming shows, I’m also working on visual and sculptural aspects to extend the world of I’ll be my own mirror beyond what you can hear on tape. 

Photography By: Jude Jansen