In Conversation With Woesum

Protected v2 dismantles the familiar logic of the remix. Woesum approaches reinterpretation as a form of connection—a way of bringing together scenes, moods and sensibilities that rarely share the same space. Each collaborator leaves their trace on the record, pushing his sound into new emotional and physical zones.

In this conversation, Woesum reflects on the collaborative process that shaped the record—his curatorial instinct, his resistance to creative stagnation, and his pursuit of joy as both a principle and a practice. What emerges is a portrait of an artist who treats sound as an open system, constantly evolving and open to exchange.

Rooted in the Swedish underground yet now moving fluidly across scenes, Woesum continues to redraw the lines between genres and communities. Protected v2 extends that impulse, turning the remix into a space for dialogue and shared experimentation. What follows is a conversation about process, intuition and the quiet discipline of keeping music close to feeling.

On Protected v2 you act almost like a curator of different scenes and genres. How did you pick the remixers, and what conversations did you have with them before they started?

Woesum: I’ve known about these musicians for a long time and have been a big fan of their work. They’ve always felt like really distinct voices to me, each with their own world and sound, so choosing them came very naturally. It all happened in a pretty organic way, just me reaching out directly over DMs or in person and having a conversation about the project.

Having a combination of musicians from different musical worlds has always been important to me. I love the idea of creating a project where artists who might never have crossed paths otherwise can exist together in the same space and still feel completely natural. When that mix works without seeming out of place or disjointed, it creates something really fun and unique to me. I feel like some of the best club nights I’ve been to and DJs I’ve seen have done this so impressively, which has been a huge inspiration for how I approach putting a project together.

When picking the remixers, I mainly wanted to elevate the idea of what a remix drop can be. A lot of the ones I grew up with in electronic and dance music were more like DJ tools, ways to get the original song onto different dancefloors that might not have played it otherwise. Obviously there are those undeniable classics that end up surpassing the original, but for this one I wanted to treat it more like a curated exchange, where each artist brings their own perspective into my world.

Was there any remix that came back sounding so different from what you expected that it changed how you hear your own track?

Woesum: Not necessarily. The whole idea behind who I wanted on the remixes was that I hoped they would do what they do best and turn the songs into something completely different, to the point where you can barely tell they share the same DNA.

Do you think remix albums are undervalued as “secondary” works? What should they mean in 2025?

Woesum: I definitely think they have been, which I think is a shame. Some of my favourite electronic and dance tracks are remixes, and I’ve always loved when the remixer takes heavy liberties and turns it into something completely new. But at the end of the day, if the artist hadn’t approached it as a remix, that song probably never would have existed, which I find really interesting. A fantastic example of this is I’m “Raving (Taucher Remix)” by Scooter. That track is up there as one of my favourite trance songs, and it’s almost impossible to tell what it’s remixing if it wasn’t for the title and how it was released.

In 2025 I feel like people should see this as an elevated form of collaboration that deserves to be embraced more. It also opens up the possibility for collaborations that otherwise wouldn’t make much sense.

Your projects since Blue Summer have all sounded fairly different. Do you feel like you’re part of a bigger movement or more like you’re carving out your own singular path?

Woesum: When I make projects I never approach them with a set sound or idea in mind before the music is made, because I’ve found that to be extremely limiting. I make new music daily and have for I don’t even know how long, and every project I’ve released has come from me noticing a pattern in moods or sonic landscapes that then make me want to explore that further. While it can be difficult, I really try not to be too influenced by what’s expected of me or by current production trends. If I do, I end up feeling lost, like an outsider trying to fit in somewhere I’m not supposed to be.

Your music balances melancholy with euphoria, which emotion is harder for you to translate into sound, joy or grief?

Woesum: Similarly to how I approach projects, I really struggle when I try too hard to make something sound or feel a certain way in advance, because that usually ends up being inspired by something I’ve just listened to and then feels like a poor imitation. For me, it has to come from a flow state and letting the subconscious take over, and whatever emotion comes out of that is probably just a reflection of how I felt in that moment. But if I have to choose between joy or grief, I’d say joy. Making happy music that doesn’t feel corny is difficult.

You’ve moved between ambient, rap minimalism, trance—is there a sound you’d never touch, even if people begged?

Woesum: Not really. Like I said earlier, I try not to limit myself in what I make. I do know though, that if I feel pressured to do something in a specific sound just to please other people, I probably shouldn’t because that’s a slippery slope.

If Protected was about protection, what’s something you feel you’re protecting in yourself or in your work right now?

Woesum: I’d say I’m very protective of feeling joy when making music. Over the years I’ve definitely had moments where I’ve forced myself to create when there was no motivation or excitement, and that’s always left me feeling exhausted and hopeless about continuing as a musician. I’ve noticed that when I’m having fun making it, that’s when my best work happens. If I can’t feel that, then I’d rather focus on other important parts of my life for a while.

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