No matter the style, Kems Kriol (real name: Camilo Silva) is always on the lookout for new sounds and ways of combining sounds. Magical realism is a common thread throughout all of his work, giving his music a dreamlike quality. Kems Kriol’s releases on Nous’klaer Audio alone show his wide range: check out the tracks Pirogue Clandestine, Blimund and Exfoliate for examples.
Having played both at the first and second edition of the Nous’klaer Festival, it’s only right Kems Kriol returns for the third edition. We catch up with him to learn more about his background as a musician.
Hi Camilo! On June 27th, you’ll play the new stage in De Voedseltuin. It’s your third time playing the festival. How will this time be different from the previous editions?
I think it’s an honor to play at the Nous’klaer Festival for the third time. The first year, I was commissioned by Motel Mozaïque to make field recordings in the M4H area, where Brutus is located. Because of the nature of the companies there, it became very industrial, real drone music. Almost apocalyptic. The second year at Plein Beton, I played more of the psychoacoustic work that you also hear on my show on Operator Radio, The Early Current.
For this year, there’s one composer I know for sure I’ll be playing one or two songs of: Vasco Martins, who passed away in December. He was the only new-age, ambient, classically trained composer in Cape Verde and had truly a profound influence on me. For the rest, I let the atmosphere and setting of the moment guide me.
Where does the name Kems Kriol come from?
I grew up in Rotterdam, with a Cape Verdean father and a Colombian mother. After playing as a percussionist and fronting a band I went solo as Kems, which is the Cape Verdean abbreviation for Camilo. Kriol comes from the Portuguese crioulo, which means something like a mixture or someone of African descent. I was heavily involved with traditional Cape Verdean music when I was younger, but I’ve also always been involved with electronic music. As a young kid I witnessed the rise of drum & bass and techno, with lots of illegal parties. I was particularly influenced by the sound and DIY-attitude of the Bristol scene with acts like Massive Attack and Portishead. What I’m making now is a mix of all those elements.
How did you get in touch with Nous’klaer Audio?
I met Sjoerd (Oberman, founder of Nous’klaer Audio) through Ranie Ribeiro. Ranie played some tracks to Sjoerd when they were both still working at Clone Records, and he was immediately enthusiastic. That became the Equanimity EP, my first release on the label in 2021. Before that, I had already co-produced with Rancido on the Innervisions label, but these were my first solo tracks as an electronic producer.
You’ve described your work as magical realism, a term associated with Colombia’s literary tradition. How do you hear that reflected in your music?
My mother gave me the book One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez when I was a teenager. I wasn’t ready for it then; I found the sentences too long, everything too descriptive. Only later did I understand it and started applying that approach to my productions. You can say: this is a glass of water. But you could also say: it’s a long glass with grooves in it, filled with water that looks like it’s been standing still for five hours. I try to bring that detailed way of working into my music.
Another word that comes to mind is speculative. It means going into it with an open mind, open to interpretation. That’s why a label like Nous’klaer Audio is perfect for me; its audience listens with an open mind.
Besides “regular” tracks, you also work with artists to create sound design for exhibitions. A project for Nous’klaer that falls somewhere in between is the collaboration with RE:VIVE, Rotterdam in de Jaren ’90. How do you approach such a project?
The assignment was to compose music for archival footage from Beeld & Geluid (Sound & Vision). I live in Rotterdam’s city center and I simply went into town. Unconsciously, I passed all the places and elements that were created and built in the 1990s when I was growing up: Central Station, the skate park, Kruisplein, Blaak. I hadn’t even seen the footage back then, but it turned out to be a perfect fit.
How about your work as a sound designer?
It’s a combination of field recordings and Electro Acoustic work. I mainly work like a sieve. I listen and observe the artists I work with carefully and then translate that into sound. The exhibition “Another Island” by Cape Verdean artist Janilda Bartolomeu, which I collaborated on, is currently on display at Het Nieuwe Instituut.
In the end, the common theme between all these products is magical realist approach. You have to come to my set at the festival to see how that plays out this time around!
We are looking forward to it!