Voz Vibrante

writes to the best singers in the world

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Dear Flora Matos

I was down with the band in Maputo, Moçambique, doing what we usually do; Playing funk for people. One night there was a party at Gonçalo Mabunda’s Arts Collective. That’s where we met. You and your friends had come from Sao Paolo to perform in Moç. We started a jam in the backyard. I instantly felt a musical connection. When I came back to the hotel I made a beat from the vibe I got from this meeting.
The next evening we met in your hotel room for a recording session. We wired my music through your TV. The 808 bass line distorted beautifully on that poor TV set.
Your friend translated a text you had explaining your love for uma morena. You wanted to know if I would approve of this concept on the beat. It was so poetic and so street in the same time. I had never-ending goose bumps knowing that this was poetry that would end up on my music.
We worked out the outlines for two songs that night.
Ever since we have tried occasionally to collaborate over the internet. Sometimes it feels like computers are the bluntest of tools. How I wish we could meet again to carve out more music.
When I saw a lofi clip of you performing in a club in Brazil I felt your kickassness again. I made a tune in sync with that clip. I fantasize how it would sound in a Sao Paolo nightclube. Big. And your voice on it. Maximum Respect.


Dear Jean Grae

I quite recently came across your music, via an old DJ Premier mixtape. I sat by the piano playing along to your song Keep Livin’ when my tears started falling. Sometimes music hits you that way. It has happened to me listening to for instance Tom Waits or Nina Simone. And last year I was touring East Africa with my band Timbuktu & Damn!. Somewhere over Ethiopia my colleague handed me his headphones with Kendrick Lamars track Sing About Me. I cried unstoppably. What’s that phenomenon evoking emotion? Is it the human being seeping out of the music and in to the listener?
I find some of your lyrics nearly unbearably sad. It’s a fine and rare facet of rap music that I appreciate a lot. It takes courage by the lyricist to write that way. But also a well developed poetic sensitivity.
I have a correspondance collabo with one of Sweden’s finest producers, Patrik Collén. He lives up North and I live in the South. It’s an exciting way to work. The first year we didn’t even talk by phone while getting maybe five or six tracks down, sending skeletons back and forth, adding flesh, skin, features.
This beat is a child of that relationship. I send it to you as a gift with a hope that we will one day work together.

Best Regards
Voz Vibrante

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Dear Missy Elliot

Dear Missy Elliot,
when your and Timbaland’s music first came around Sweden I felt such a relief; Finally the future is here. This is what I have waited for music to sound like.
I did several remixes of your songs in that period and gave to my DJ friends. Whether I did tango:



or my first attempt, an electro track:

your voice always glued the music together.

I love your voice. Even when you’re not singing yourself, like in:

there’s still that clarity of the song writing.
I recently wrote this really empty beat:

I figure it could be great with that amount of space for vocals. It would be lovely to hear you fill it up with your musical ideas. Please go ahead. The space is yours. 88 bpm baby.

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The Child Ruler

Everyday I wake up I am a child. Every time I start to write a new song, my knowledge of music seems to be a blank A4. As the music builds up, as I find possible paths to walk, I become a conqueror. A nubian king. Majestic. The child can not understand how it once was a king. The ruler soon forgets that he was just a clueless infant.

When I was 20 I went to a jazz camp on the Swedish west coast. The hosts were pianist Lars Jansson, bass player Lars Danielsson and drummer Anders Kjellberg. Their records are beautiful but far from dangerous. Seeing them perform live was another story. When they jammed at night they whirled up the spirits. They shook down the rafters. They went on balancing on the edge of a cliff with blood taste in their mouths. I was overwhelmed then, like a chest ache; I want to be inside the music. Inside. Where it fills up every cavity of your cell structure. Where it’s physical. Where you are the host animal to a parasite feasting on your vascular system. Where that parasite is also your horse to get you forward.

To approach music this way has been a deep source of joy for me ever since; To start from a blank mind. To get a picture of the music and dive in. To find a balance on the path appearing ahead of you and to rule from there. Your kingdom reaches only as far as your next step, your jurisdiction is only what direction to take.

For reference on the importance of balance and vertigo in creativity:



Dear Usher

Dear Usher,
some years ago I found an acapella of your song “Yeah!”. I heard so much harmonies in that vocal and I did a remix.

I daydreamed that you came to my apartment in Lund, Sweden, and we wrote music.
 When I listen to your records I hear such a strong connection to what I do musically.

Last year I wanted to prove to my friend, rapper Timbuktu, that I could take a sound that he hated, a sampling of the Shakuhachi flute, and turn it into a beat that he would headnod to. I actually fooled him into digging that sound. Then I heard it: This is the music I would love you to sing on.

Please do.

Best Regards
Voz Vibrante

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Music and daydreams

As long as I have been doing music I have been daydreaming. When I was 13 I imagined that I met Nick Rhodes, the keyboard player in Duran Duran. He was so arty. I had seen pictures with him and a camera. I also wanted to try all art forms. I combed my hair just like him, as much as possible over the head.
As a grown up I have spent a lot of time doing beats, imagining my favorite vocalists singing over my music.
I might have a certain success as a musician but these daydream beats still lie around in my computer and none of the world’s finest singers has ever sung with that music.
So I decided to write open letters to my dream co-operators and putting the music out there. You will simply have to imagine the singers or rappers and enjoy the music as it is now.
When I told my friend Johanna about this project, she called me en handlingens drömmare, which is about the nicest review I ever got; A doer-dreamer. Only, I don’t always do what I dream. Maybe to write a letter is a good way of connection the doing with the dreaming? This is what I will explore with this blog.


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