Montreal-based DJ Eric San has spent close to two decades deconstructing sample-based music as Kid Koala. From the hip-hop sound collages of his three solo albums through collaborative party-rocking with Deltron 3030 and more recently The Slew (a band he formed with former members of Wolfmother), Koala is no stranger to dance-floor-ready experimentation. Outside of that, however, he’s also a fascinating artist, combining visual work with stunning, hushed scores.

Space Cadet is the spiritual sequel to Kid Koala’s 2003 project Nufonia Must Fall. A remarkable graphic novel created by the artist, the storyline deals with themes of isolation and, of course, robots.

Musically, the accompanying score is arguably Koala’s most important work yet, not only showcasing his aptitude for cinematic sound-suites, but also redefining the role of the turntable in the process. A 15-song soundtrack intended to play alongside the book, the songs were written on the piano, with the turntable acting as a secondary instrument.

There are records scratched all over the place, but Koala approaches them with such subtlety that they barely register. The result is a sound akin to neoclassical noise experimentalists like Tim Hecker or Christian Fennesz, albeit with a welcome playfulness thanks to the warbly record sounds that can’t come from a cold synth or guitar pedal.

Another chapter in a career that keeps expanding in new, weird directions, Space Cadet further cements Kid Koala’s role as one of the most interesting performers out there — crate of records or not.

JOSIAH HUGHES

What does the Space Cadet live show look like?

It’s totally different. First of all, the audience is lying down on the ground and they’re wearing headphones. They have these inflatable space pods that we’ve made. My normal show is just a sweaty club or a music tent at a festival. Don’t get me wrong, I love that, there’s just a completely different level of adrenalin and excitement and decibel level. I think the concept of this show was to just try to do something as far of a departure from that as it could possibly get, but still have it be musically based around turntables. I really had to find a contextual way to do the show live. The themes in the book are about isolation and feeling a connection even though you’re feeling isolated, so I think having people in headphones but having them in the same room listening to the same musical performance is a connection too. There are actually many interactive aspects of the show.

When did you first start work on the Space Cadet project?

The book started in 2003, shortly after Nufonia Must Fall was published. I started writing the first storyboards for Space Cadet that year. It was pretty much done in 2004. That was rough pencil ideas in a sketchbook about how the pages would turn and whatnot. When it came time to actually start work on the panels, I decided to use etchboards that I found in France. At first, because it was set in space, I thought it would save me time, but it didn’t save me any time. It was quite a time-intensive visual technique, which I didn’t know at the time but I figured out soon enough. That’s why I think, if you check an interview in 2003, I might have talked about Space Cadet and then for the last five years I haven’t. It’s because there was no end in sight. Some panels would take up to 50 hours to do and I was like ‘Okay, I have no idea when this is gonna be done.’

Were you done the entire book before you started on the music?

I wasn’t completely finished the book but I was kind of in the home stretch. I was working on the last chapter, and that was around the time when my daughter was born. I was spending a lot of time in the bubble of that brand new experience and trying to document that somehow musically.

Have you done much scoring for your own visual work?

The first time I’ve done that would have been for Nufonia Must Fall. I did maybe 16 minutes of music for that book. Just for certain scenes and whatnot. This was actually a little more involved. But yeah, over the last few years I’ve been doing more scores for stuff like Sesame Street, Adult Swim, the National Film Board, so I’ve been getting into that a little more. When I was working on the book I always knew there’d be a musical component and I also always knew there was going to be a show, I just didn’t know what that show would be until the last year-and-a-half or so. Musically, I always knew what the vibe of it would be like.

It sounds like the turntable is kind of in the background a lot more than before. How has your relationship with the turntable evolved?

I mean, it’s odd because I’ve had this discussion quite a few times. There are turntables on every single track of this score, it’s just how stealthy it is, I guess. Most of the music was written on piano, that was the instrument that I could play while I was holding my newborn child. Really, a lot of those were kind of lullabies to her. The piano was the primary instrument, and then with the turntables, I just wanted them to keep that feeling and the intent of those pieces, so it does play more kind of a counterpoint role or a harmonic role. Again, I didn’t want the concept or the idea of turntables being present to take over the whole feeling of the piece, so I worked extra hard to keep it kind of restrained.

Would you ever consider not using a turntable or is that what makes you who you are as a musician?

No, I love adding turntables and, again, by virtue of the fact that some close DJ associates will listen to it and can’t spot some of the turntable work on this record lets me know that I can play in a way that even DJs can’t find it. That being said, in the grand scheme of reality with listeners, does it even exist? If the DJ can’t spot the scratch, did it really happen? A lot of it is just, for me, it was supposed to take a melodic or harmonic role. Either that or it took a really ambient sound design role, so on some of the quieter pieces I can hear the cuts in it, but I guess it’s going through a tape delay or some spring reverb and all of a sudden it has so much of these other ghosts from those machines. You might not even realize it originally came from a record being scratched. It could end up just sounding like some weird desert wind.

You almost give the impression that you’re trying to outdo yourself with each new release. Would you say that’s intentional? They grow in scope so much conceptually.

I’m always interested in what’s next. Whether I outdo things remains to be seen, because sometimes the ambition of a project doesn’t necessarily mean it’s going to be good. Sometimes it’s the simplest ideas that really get to the heart of the matter. What motivates me a lot in my work is just “what’s next and can I go there?” It’s really about challenging the parameters of what I can do and what can be done tastefully. Even with turntables, it’s like okay, well, can you scratch on a ballad or on the score for a book about isolation? It might not be your go-to secondary instrument, but for me it is. Within that challenge, it’s always about trying to learn along the way. I don’t know. Sometimes it takes several releases before it actually refines itself. Carpal Tunnel Syndrome, for instance, was a really obvious one to me. I always knew that was going to be quite the sketchbook of a record because for the first time in my life I was attempting to try these completely different things on turntables. It might have been as simple of an idea as “Drunk Trumpet” or something and then evolving it to “Basin Street Blues” and now evolving it to the next score that I’m working on. For me, your best work is always ahead of you because you’re just going to be richer and have a little more life experience behind it. That being said, whenever you attempt something for the first time it’s going to have its angles and weirdness. You’ve just got to be like, “That’s kind of cool in a naive way.” I listen to Space Cadet versus Nufonia, and I do feel like there’s progress there. That being said, I’m sure if I take a swing at another book score in a couple years I’m sure it’ll keep moving forward. That’s not the intent. You’re not just trying to kick your own ass all the time. But then again, maybe you are.

What’s the ideal situation for people to enjoy Space Cadet at home?

I don’t know, maybe that they’re alone. Being at a party with a bunch of drunk people on a Saturday night is probably not the best time to throw that CD on. It’s a quiet time thing. Since tracks are named after a certain page, a lot of people are asking if it’s important to hit pause so that they’re always listening along. But just let it play as you read it. As long as the mood is there it still works.