IN CONVERSATION WITH JORIS VOORN
interview by TIMOTEJ LETONJA
Joris Voorn is a renowned Dutch electronic music producer and DJ known for blending techno, house, and ambient influences. A key figure in the international underground scene, he’s performed at top clubs and festivals around the world. In this interview, Voorn reflects on the making of his album Serotonin, shaped by personal loss, post-pandemic optimism, and a return to his musical roots. He discusses the therapeutic nature of songwriting, shares insights into collaborations, creative resets, and navigating the fast-moving music landscape.
credits: Jackson Loria
Your new album Serotonin was written during an emotional time. How did returning to your childhood home and reconnecting with the family piano shape the project?
A lot happened during the writing of this album. I lost both of my parents, which of course was difficult. While grief isn’t the central theme, some tracks definitely carry that emotional weight—especially ones tied to my childhood home and the piano I grew up with. But Serotonin is also an uplifting album, shaped largely by the post-COVID era. It’s optimistic, even though the emotions run deep.
Was the process of making this album therapeutic?
Absolutely. Writing an album is always a bit of therapy. There’s a joy in creating something new—those early moments when you’re sketching ideas and a melody hits that emotional nerve. But finishing tracks can be tough. That last 10% takes forever. I want the music to sound great both on a dance floor and in everyday moments—like in the car or walking outside. Striking that balance is the challenge.
Would you say Serotonin leans more emotional than dance-focused?
Yes, I always aim for emotion first. My tracks aren’t designed for peak-time, main stage sets—they're deeper, more suited for intimate or late-night sets. The album is something you can really listen to, not just dance to. But ideally, it does both.
You’ve worked with artists like Tom Walker, Jono McCleery, and Nathan Nicholson. How do these collaborations come together?
It depends. With Jono, we’ve been friends for years but never made a full track together. I had this ambient sketch that ended up with a vocal from White Lies, but I couldn’t finish it in a way that worked. Jono gave it a new direction by tweaking the chords—it was a version I wouldn’t have come up with myself. That’s when collaboration really shines.
With Nathan Nicholson, our track You & I felt more like a full song than my usual linear structure, but it still worked on the dance floor. We did another track later, Moon, where I had written these piano chords. Nathan and Joshua, another collaborator, came back with beautiful vocals. The lyrics were deeply personal—about an astronaut going to the moon and not returning. Nathan had lost his father, and so had I. That song hit home for me.
credits: Jackson Loria
You’ve said this album reflects your growth. How would you describe your sound today compared to your early work?
It’s changed a lot. My early music was very Detroit techno-inspired—jazzy chords, ambient touches. Over the years, I’ve evolved. I’ve moved through different phases, picking up new influences. I don’t want to repeat myself—that would be boring. The last few albums have leaned more indie or melodic. Serotonin is perhaps more synth-heavy, more song-driven.
That said, I don’t know if this is my new sound. After finishing a project, I usually want to do something completely different. I’ve taken a creative break lately—not writer’s block, just resetting. I need to find that next direction again.
You play everywhere—from Fabric in London to huge festivals. How do venues affect your set?
They influence it a lot. Fabric is one of those places where I can dig deep—play all night, experiment, go for subtler, more intricate music. At a big festival the next day, I’ll play something entirely different. I love the contrast. Familiar clubs and brand-new venues both offer something unique.
What comes next for you? Another project? A new direction?
That’s hard to say. The music scene moves so fast now. I know which shows I’ll play this year, but I don’t always know where the sound is heading. Staying relevant today means staying flexible—keeping your own voice while staying aware of what’s happening around you.
Twenty years ago, I could play the same records for years. Now, after a few months, I move on. Even planning an album feels intense—so much work goes into it, and in a few months, the world’s onto something else. There’s a constant stream of new music—and now with AI too, everything’s even faster.
So I try not to focus on long-term plans. I just want to stay inspired and keep creating in a way that feels real to me.
credits: Jackson Loria