He designed a device called Instead of a standard grid, the notes grew like fungal networks—branching out based on "moisture" and "nutrient" parameters he’d mapped to the velocity of his field recordings.
Elias spent hours motionless by the water. He recorded the rhythmic, uneven slapping of waves against a rotted wooden pier. He captured the granular rustle of dry leaves caught in a mini-vortex of wind and the haunting, discordant creak of two pine trees rubbing together in the breeze. Inspired by Nature [Max for Live]
When he finally pressed play, the music didn't sound like a "song" in the traditional sense. It breathed. A deep, sub-bass pulse mimicked the slow, tectonic shift of the earth, while organic textures swirled in the mid-range like a flock of starlings changing direction in mid-air. He designed a device called Instead of a
Elias realized that nature wasn't just a source of pretty sounds—it was a masterclass in complex systems. By using Max for Live to bridge the gap between the wild and the wire, he hadn't just made a track. He’d built an ecosystem. He captured the granular rustle of dry leaves
He decided to leave the city for a weekend, heading into the Spreewald forest with nothing but a field recorder and a laptop.
Back in his studio, Elias didn’t just want to use these as samples; he wanted them to live inside his DAW. He opened Max for Live and began to build.
Next, he built a granular synthesizer that didn't just loop audio, but mimicked the way light filters through a canopy. He called it The grains of sound didn't trigger at set intervals; they flickered and shimmered based on the unpredictable movement of the wind he’d recorded in the pines.