Rasmus Weirup is an independant singer, songwriter and producer based in Copenhagen, Denmark. Along with fellow artist Jones, he is a part of the artist collective Birland 1:1. Sometimes he describes his music as, “The Greenwich Village folk scene of 1967 treated with a coffee grinder and broadcasted through the echoing sound system of an abandoned shopping mall.”

In this interview spotlight, I chat with Rasmus about the latest release, challenges, technology and more.

Full Q&A along with links and music below.

Where are you from and what style of music do you create? (In your own words, not necessarily in marketing terms or by popular genre classifications.)

I’m from Copenhagen, Denmark. I always have a hard time describing my music, but I typically use the term ambient folk. However, I’m aware that my music isn’t really ambient, and that it isn’t really folk either. What I mean, I think, is that as a songwriter, I’m incredibly inspired by folk music. I love the simple song structures and chord progressions of traditional folk ballads, while lyrically I’m very influenced by the contemporary folk songwriters of the 60’s and 70’s. For instance, I would say that one of my primary sources of lyrical inspiration is Joan Baez’ 1976 album ‘Gulf Winds’. Lyrically, I think that album is nearly flawless. I love the maximalism of the imagery, how all these extremely dramatic and evocative images seem to be at war with each other as if there isn’t enough space for all of them in the songs. I love how unrestrained the lyricism feels. Musically, on the other hand, I am very interested in exploring the-almost-hearable, which is where the ambient part comes in. I want my music to feel like when you can hear your next-door neighbors fighting through the walls, and you can’t hear exactly what they’re saying, but you still get the sense that you know what the fight is about. I think sounds that are slightly indeterminable have this uncanny feel to them, and those are the kind of sounds that I’m interested in: sounds that feel muffled, sounds that are crackling, glitching and echoing. Sounds and voices that are manipulated beyond recognition. I want to make music that sounds more like a dream about music than music in itself.

What led you down this path of music and what motivates you to keep going?

When I was in my early teenage years, I completely, obsessively worshipped Lana Del Rey. I still love her music, but back then I was engrossed in her in a way that I think is only possible when you’re a teenager. When her album ‘Ultraviolence’ came out in the summer of 2014, I decided that I wanted to write songs too. Her lyrics fascinated me endlessly. I would spend hours reading them and thinking about them, and I hoped desperately that I would be able to evoke the same sort of fascination in someone someday. What motivates me to keep going? Perhaps the fact that I haven’t succeeded in that yet. 

Were you trying to accomplish anything specific with this release?

I Bet You Never Had a Friday Night Like This is my first album. As I think is pretty common with debut records, these songs were written throughout a very long period of time and reflect a lot of different stylistic preoccupations. The song Colonial Inn, for instance, was written nearly four years ago during a road trip in the U.S.A. and is heavily inspired by the old country, doo-wop and rock’n’roll records that I listened to on that trip. Particularly, I was listening to a lot of Blue Hawaii era Elvis as well as Tammy Wynette and The Flamingos. It might not be that obvious, but I wanted to sort of pay tribute to that era of music. The song We Need To Be, on the other hand, was written while I was living in Tokyo and was very interested in the Japanese harsh noise scene, while the song Punk Rock is my take on cloud rap – particularly inspired by the Drain Gang collective, but also by the early work of groups such as Three 6 Mafia. I think the main thing that I wanted to accomplish with this album was to create an environment where all these different sounds could coexist without it sounding completely ridiculous. Creating a mood and an aesthetic that felt consistent throughout the whole album was probably my number one priority.

Name one or two challenges you face as an indie musician in this oversaturated, digital music age? How has technology helped you (since we know it does help)?

Everything I do is wholly dependent on technology: producing everything on my laptop, distributing it online on streaming platforms, promoting it on social media, doing this interview by email… none of it would be possible without technology. I think it’s amazing that music has been democratized in this way. The challenge of course is that now that it’s possible for basically anyone to produce a record and release it, it’s so much harder to stand out. Everyone is craving attention; everyone wants to be seen – including me, of course. Ultimately, though, I find it more inspiring than frustrating to be “competing” with so many people.

What was the last song you listened to?

My own song, Kyoto. I probably sound like the most self-absorbed person on the planet, but I’ve been listening to my own album quite a lot since it came out. I like to listen to it on the train, or while riding my bike, and just watch the world pass by from behind my sunglasses. I think the warm, droning sound of the album is perfect for the summer, when it just feels as if everything is moving at a slower pace than normally. Kyoto, in particular, is important to me because it was written as a tribute to one of my heroes, the Japanese singer-songwriter Ichiko Aoba. It’s probably my favorite song on the album, and perhaps also the most melodically inviting one: it’s the only song with an actual chorus, for instance.

Which do you prefer? Vinyl? CDs? MP3s?

I’m obsessed with objects. I want to be able to possess things, to hold them in my hands, and feel the texture of their surface. For that reason, I would say that I prefer vinyl: I Iove their physicality. Another reason is that I love the way good cover art can emphasize – and in some cases even alter – the feel of an album. My father is a photographer, so I’ve been brought up to appreciate great photography: the lightning, the texture, the angle, the framing of a photo. I feel that the artwork of an album is only truly allowed to stand on its own in the case of a vinyl record because the scale is just that much bigger. However, I do love how practical MP3’s are and how they – along, of course, with streaming – have allowed me to listen to music from so many different cultures that I would most like not have access to if I had to buy a physical record. CD’s, on the other hand, are disgusting to me. I can imagine very few things that are less aesthetically pleasing than a jewel case.

How about this one…. Do you prefer Spotify? Apple Music? Bandcamp? Or something else? Why?

I think Bandecamp is obviously the superior platform. The way they support artists is truly unique in the field of online music distribution. However, I, personally, am a class traitor, and so I use Spotify.

Where is the best place to connect with you online and discover more music?

If you want to ask me something – or just obsessively follow my every move – then Instagram is probably a good place to go. The handle is @rasmusweirup. Otherwise maybe follow me on your preferred streaming platform – in that way you’ll be able to enjoy the sweet bliss of knowing that you’ll never ever miss one of my releases.

Anything else before we sign off?

Just thank you for allowing me to do this interview!