IN CONVERSATION WITH GALANTIS

interview by TIMOTEJ LETONJA

Known for blending euphoric dance music with pop sensibilities, Galantis takes a more personal turn with The Devil’s Tax Return: Volume 1, reimagining classic songs that have stayed with him over the years. From Feist’s “1234” to The Killers’ “When You Were Young,” the project transforms familiar favourites into something fresh while preserving the magic of the originals. We caught up with Galantis to talk creative freedom, musical reinvention and the art of making a classic his own.

What was it about “1234” that made you want to mess with it in the first place, making it feel almost like a late-night club record, and what did you hear in the original that you thought other people might have missed?

I’ve loved that record since the first time I heard it. I was surprised to find out that a lot of people didn’t know about the song. I couldn’t figure out if it was a generational thing or if it was territory, but I felt like this is a legendary classic that should never be forgotten. I didn’t know how to turn it into something that deserved to exist as a Galantis release, but I was up for the challenge. I realised that I had to do something completely different for it to actually work and not just feel like a remix. I tried a few things, really raw and rough, but kept going back and trying completely different versions until I landed on the one you heard. I felt like it was actually a really cool new take on the song.

I recorded the vocals with a bunch of different people. No one nailed it completely, but a lot of them nailed certain parts, so I started to, what I call, Frankenstein it, or putting the pieces together. Eventually I found myself thinking, okay, now I have a vocal, and I like it. I did this with a lot of songs for the project because I didn’t want to put anything out that, to me, didn’t keep the magic. I wanted to create something that still had the thing I loved about the original, but was a new version.

As you’ve picked some quite unexpected songs for this project, how do you know when a song is worth taking apart and rebuilding?

First, for this project, I only grabbed things that I thought were brilliant from the beginning. Then I started to feel out if they could be done in a way that would fit me and my brand. Some songs I could figure out, but then they didn’t feel like a Galantis song. So I kept working on different ones, and with some I just didn’t want to give up because I felt there had to be a way to honor the original in a completely different way while still keeping it in the world of Galantis.

I worked on this on the side for at least five years. I kept telling my colleagues about it and asking if anyone wanted to work with me on it, but I couldn’t give up on the idea. I’m really happy I kept investing the time and energy because it taught me so much. I got to pick apart songs I love and understand them from the inside instead of just being a passive listener, understanding the bass, the guitar, the chords, the arrangement, the structure.

Where did the idea for The Devil’s Tax Return come from?

I felt really scared and nervous about touching something that was already, to me, a great piece of work. But I really wanted to do it. So I thought, okay, I’m the devil for touching these songs. You can hate on whatever, I’m already telling everyone that I’m the devil.

And because I love these songs, this is the return, the tax return, that you get from me: what I love about these songs. That was the idea behind The Devil’s Tax Return. I felt like if I painted myself as the devil doing this, then I already knew some people would be upset about it.

How much of Christian Karlsson is in Galantis?

I don’t know any other way to answer that than 100%. But it’s a good question, because I feel like I grew into that 100%, and this project was a part of it. For a long time, it felt natural to think, are people really interested in me, or should I put something more interesting than myself out there? But lately I’ve thought, I’m just going to put myself out there and not worry too much about it.

I think it’s something that you grow into, but it also proves why I came from the music side and not the other side. My reason for doing this isn’t because I want to be seen or be on stage. My reason is to make music. That’s why I started making music for other people.

Does having spent so much time writing for other artists change the way you approach making someone else’s song your own?

The reason I decided to stop doing that was that I didn’t feel like I had the complete freedom that I needed. Every time I had complete freedom, I created something I was more proud of. When you’re creating for other people, you might be in the studio cooking something up, and then someone says, “Yeah, I like this one, but I want to remove this, and I want to do this...” And you don’t really have the say.

When I started Miike Snow, I could actually just do what I wanted. After having that feeling, I felt like there was no way I was ever going back to doing it for other people. It was an amazing journey and an amazing job, but it was still a job. It wasn’t complete artistic freedom. People can rip your heart out by liking one thing and hating something else, and you don’t have the final say.

So then it really becomes a job.

Exactly. A very good job, though.

What’s the song on the EP that surprised you the most once you finished it?

I worked on “When You Were Young,” the Killers song, on and off. I really wanted to do it, but I kept giving up because I felt like I hadn’t nailed it or found the right angle.

When we first sent the EP out to all the DSPs, that song wasn’t on there. Then I listened through the folder, found the version I had worked on, and immediately emailed everyone asking, “Can you give me 48 hours? I’m going to try to figure out this song.” I bunkered up in the studio and had the idea to speed it up to a garage tempo.

During those 48 hours, I finally felt like I had figured it out after trying so many times and recording probably 20 different vocalists. I called everyone back and said, “Okay, let’s redeliver it and add this song,” because it had become one of my favorites. That’s also why I saved it for last. It’s the one coming out in two weeks.

You said earlier that being on stage wasn’t really what initially drew you to music. Yet you’ve played some huge festivals over a long period of time. What are you looking for and looking forward to when you’re on stage at this point in your career? What still sparks that excitement?

Let me correct myself: it wasn’t that being on stage wasn’t my favorite thing. It just wasn’t what I was thinking about when I wanted to get into music. It wasn’t the drive to be seen or be on stage. It was the drive to create that got me there. But today, with Galantis, it’s absolutely one of my favorite things. It’s as important and as big of an inspiration to me as being in the studio.

When you’re a DJ, the focus isn’t really on you. It’s still on the music. I’m not dancing on stage with a microphone, right? Everything is focused on the music and the production. What I love is that, as a DJ, you can also play other people’s music. That’s such an amazing part of the culture. Bands don’t play each other’s music in the same way. As a music lover, I find that incredible, and it inspires me to work on mashups and versions that are never going to be released, but that I create specifically for the show.

It’s an expression I never had before because everything used to have to be finished, mixed, mastered and packaged. With a live show, it’s completely open. I can change something on the day of the show. I might be cooking up a mashup at the hotel, and an hour later I’m playing it in front of 40,000 people. That is absolutely something that feels like it should be illegal.

For someone who wants to create, that’s the biggest euphoria.