Parrish Smith and Technostars: A New Dawn

“I want to tell an imperfect story that has friction and cracks, guided by my thoughts, opinions, and creations.”

In a musical world rendered algorithmically flawless, Parrish Smith does not stray from his raw, ingenuous pursuit. His mantra –  No elitism, no prejudices, no genres, no codes, and no taboos – enhances his sidelining of the industry’s status quo, keeping him undiluted in his craft either by the saturating internet or by a desire to be part of an elusive, elite club. His music is earthy, lavish with texture, and effusive – not necessarily in a literal sense, but rather in the way an eruptive volcano is effusive. Yet he’s not in it for gaining widespread appreciation or a prize of distinction – his goal is to spread the manifesto that’s guided him throughout the process, which is to stay real, undistorted, and visible in his humane-ness. Having recently released Technostars, a philosophical inquiry into the age of instant gratification and mindless fame crave, Parrish Smith lays out the perfect field for us to ask the zeitgeist’s most ardent question: How does one keep themselves un-alienated and self-standing in the rapidly-homogenising musical sphere? As a response, we were gifted a glimpse into how he does it all – from concept to making, from visuals to fashion, from a passion for music to making it into a fruitful, gratifying career. 

Hi! How are you doing? It’s lovely to talk to you!
Hey, I’m doing very well. I’m really busy and excited about the Technostars era this year. I hope you’re well, too! 

Can’t wait to see what it brings! How do you feel entering this new artistic era?
I’m feeling stronger than ever. Super blessed to be able to travel through many continents as an artist and DJ. Honestly, the constant touring was very demanding, and I couldn’t consistently make music as I would have wished to. Still, I released an album in 2022 and did some cool projects like remixing Sevdaliza’s Nothing Lasts Forever, but there were a couple of dreams of mine that almost died. So I decided to fully focus on the craft again and create new inspirations I could build on and carry in the future by stepping away from playing shows. A big risk I am willing to take to progress in my art. The feeling of reclaiming power in something that had been shoved into the shadows is utterly gratifying. So I started my label and platform, Enter the Darkbeat,  where I can move autonomously and create my own story on my terms. I also created an event, Burst City, focusing on the alternative electronic scene. The first big project is Technostars – it launches a visual and sonic concept for this year. 

You’ve been busy busy! We’d love to learn more about Technostars — what does the project represent to you?
It is about resistance, transformation, and taking back your artistry in a world that asks you to be less creative. For me, it’s about pushing against conformity and exploring the edges of sound and cultural norms. Even the title represents a clash between underground techno culture and something mythical or cosmic, the rockstar-jesus. It is a statement: a reflection of identity, defiance, and evolution. I wasn’t trying to make something that fits neatly into the club scene or follows any formula. I’ve always seen music as a personal, exploratory force, and this track is an extension of that mindset. Even when the lyrics are pretty straightforward, I think it’s important to remember that this is my take on the music scene, where big companies often decide what’s popular based on numbers, and hurt underground artists.

That must be quite intense on your side. This concept of building and layers stands out in your work, musically and visually. With the Technostars’ music video is almost out, can you dive into the upcoming visual interpretations of the song as well as your EP?
It is taking place in a world that has been fully commodified, where everything around us is owned and determined by its price tag. Even our dreams are products where we envision hedonistic pursuits. This bleak world feels very black and white to me, there is no nuance. The world is set in a scrapyard full of trash and information, oversaturated and overloaded with information without substance that is toxic to our brains. I feel our imagination is contaminated with a virus in need of a zombie-like pursuit of success. I think this pursuit has stripped much of the techno scene of any real friction. What is left is a polished version: it’s about likability, dictated by algorithms and driven by instant gratification. Today’s technostars are a perfect product, flawless, and soulless; I find this to be a trend. It reflects a society addicted to consumption and artificial perfection. We created a technostar (played by Barros) in the flesh that represents a zombie-like person infected with this virus, trying to pull me into its artificial world. With Djoa Lekatompessy directing the video, we are playing with what is real and what is not. I like to show something hard to see, and a bit gory, because internally we fight very rough battles that hurt us. Eventually, we have to find the guiding light out of the darkness that gives meaning. Yet the industry strives to eliminate all forms of suffering, aiming to create perfection, something consumed without it choking you, so to speak. There is a lot of symbolism and philosophical questions involved: how it guides humans, and how you can break free from something that doesn’t feel humane. You can overcome all of this by following your heart and persistence, and with this, chances will arise, and you don’t have to wait for luck to come by.

Within this experience, what were you most proud of and what were you most challenged by in this creation process?
I am most proud of getting my deepest feelings and frustrations out. Sometimes it’s hard to be honest with yourself at low points, and I have been there, contemplating if it is me. I was me, but it got screwed and disillusioned by the constant traveling and pressure to survive. I put a hold on that and chose to be able to find out my pathway again. For me, being myself is the most important part and gift of everything because that will tell the most truthful story. I do not ever want to tell a story that holds the illusion of something I am not. It is very easy to do tricks online because you can’t see behind the screens. It becomes frictionless, opinionless, and too perfect. I like to challenge my mind a lot. I want to tell an imperfect story that has friction and cracks, guided by my thoughts, opinions, and creations – and then leave it for you to decide what you think of.

The track is all-consuming, and the complete use of the sound arena is incredibly impressive — there is no frequency left alone. The use of distortion provides a raw texture to your tracks. What is the tension between technologically altered electronic music and the raw emotions you want to imbue through the seams?
I try to use instruments I resonate personally with. I find music gear that is regarded as bad gear with ugly sounds interesting to use. It gives character when you use a device that’s hard to deal with, and it has a kind of beauty around it. It reflects to me in a way how humans can look at each other aesthetically, or how someone acts around you, and that we judge them for it. I think beauty is always there, hidden or exposed. Using these machines channels a very primitive side that’s instantaneous and almost meditative. But also confronting when it doesn’t work the way you would like, but when you get through the process, that confrontation is very humbling. Overdriving the sounds through amplifiers or my mixing desk gives texture and a physical experience of sound. I heavily experiment with distortion and textures, overdriving or distorting through pedals and mangling with filters till it sits right with me. It is never perfect, and there are many instances where I don’t like the sound but start to appreciate it along the way. 

Your career has been exciting, fast, and longstanding; how has this journey been from a musical standpoint?
I’m super grateful that my biggest passion turned out to be this. It was never my intention to make a career out of it; I could do music with a job, but it turned out that this became the job. Also, something I find a lot of pride in is that my emergence as an artist was not predetermined by my area or background. It was difficult for my family, coming from different continents, to see their kid pursue a music career – something they saw as new and as a career full of difficulties. It created a friction between me and the world, but was also a catalyst for my growing desire. My music got picked up pretty fast by Nina Kravitz and an underground industrial label, Contort Yourself. It pushed me forward and had me playing in Europe very fast, while promoters in the Netherlands were very hesitant to book me. And this motivated me even more next to my longing passion of creating music. 

It’s always very inspiring to hear stories of how someone’s artistic pursuit just clicked and stuck like that through time. What do you think were some key parts in having it work out?I think my honesty led people to me. With this, I was a resident at de School and Garage Noord and regularly played at Dekmantel. It is very exciting that my story touches different subjects and disciplines, which got me working with The World Museum or FOAM museum in Amsterdam for Ai Weiwei exhibition, or doing a remix for Sevdaliza or Richie Hawtin. It is nice to be acknowledged by peers of the highest order, and it is something I would like to see myself grow to as well. But only in my way with my artistic values and integrity, because if I don’t have these, you will get a formless artist, and that would make me unhappy, to say the least. It is very important to stand still and be blessed where I am right now, but I hope I can do this much longer and to hopefully inspire others along the way, no matter where the road goes, as long as I am making art.

So sweet! Moving a bit forward, you’re Dutch but also come from Surinamese, Chinese, and Indian descent. Although you moved to Amsterdam after hypnotising the electronic music scene in the Netherlands and worldwide, how has your time within the city shaped your artistic craft?
I am a very secluded person and isolate myself most of the time from the city. I would rather spend time thinking or creating, whether it be music, writing, or graphic design, because the creativity is coming from me. The things I can’t explain are a starting point for making music, but it makes me feel a certain way, which tells something about the texture. I am very protective of this state and try not to let myself be influenced too much. The one thing that has significantly influenced me was my residency at De school and Garage Noord. De school and Garage Noord taught me how to work the dancefloor while pushing all these different genres. It also had a strong community, which pulled me out of my isolated self-world. The dancefloor had a strange energy of a time vacuum where time can get lost. With my Surinamese roots, I try to push a diverse soundset of producers from all over the world and every genre I can find. I think it was because of the lack of role models of POC in experimental music, and I try to show that there is nothing to be afraid of choosing the niche road. Because that story with your background is so important, and mostly it does not resonate with commercial music, but often we get pushed in this direction. I want to say that a niche can be hard, but you have to learn how to find your market because it is there, small or big. Working the dancefloor in this way is so sick to experience and see how people get so receptive as long as they feel it and start to understand how you feel. I felt so free to experiment, and that’s a very generous thing. 

Your artistic universe expands beyond sound. What are your biggest fashion and textile inspirations right now, in this era of Technostars?
I find clothes important to me in a different way than music is. It is a physical representation of my daily life and how it presents who I am. It is funny how conscious I am about it. But I like to play with contrasting outfits in the same way I have contrasting ideas in music, and my DJ sets where things could clash or tell a different story arc at a certain time. Within the era of technostars, Floor van Helmond created an outfit for me made out of thrifted pieces and military clothes. We wanted to create something that feels like you are in control and that nobody can tell you otherwise, while keeping a sort of fit that suits the body. So we played with tall and wide proportions where you can pull the outfit tighter with military grade clasps, and the pants and top stitched together with different layers and patches. It feels very powerful wearing it, and it has an energy you can go to war with.  DIY and thrift play a big part in this era because I want to wear and choose original clothes that you see and inspire big fashion houses to make a re-ified version with a hefty price tag. I like to wear DIY pieces because they reflect autonomy, and mix them with fake thrifted leather pieces because I like the heaviness and slickness of it. It feels sexy and strong.

You have a mantra: “No Elitism, No Prejudices, No Genres, No Codes.” When did you formulate this during your career, and why is it essential for you to have such a publicly known and admired positionality and boundaries? 
It was in the beginning that I made a couple of core values that can be open to interpretation for myself. As long as it protects my quest for authenticity, the craft, honesty, breaking the barriers, and challenging myself whenever I feel the need for renewal. Also, it holds an inner activist motivation in me to be autonomous in the music industry and to keep my voice up and not conform to the current mainstream. I think this is a deed holder for every art in its current form. I am someone who doesn’t need to be liked, for me it’s most important that I can be me and show that I am me, extending through my art. The full mantra is: No elitism, no prejudices, no genres, no codes, and no taboos. Hypnotic, tense, comprehensive, and a state of mind.

I think boundaries are meant to be explored and pushed forward, and not recycled. I like progressiveness in culture and music because that is the only way to move forward and bring people together. 

Thank you so much for this conversation – I’m looking forward to indulging in the new Technostars music video!
Thank you! The video will be out on the 29th of April, and the extended release comes from the depths on May 13 — it includes alternative versions of the OG Technostar track and a club remix! And following is my new Burst City event I created with Mila V at Garage Noord on the 10th of May. And then it is already time for the next single in June… 

Listen to Technostars here

Images by Martijn Kuyvenhoven and Parrish Smith

Words by Luna Sferdianu and Yağmur (Yago) Sağlam