
Brussels-based producer and Tresor resident UFO95 (real name Killian Vaissade) has returned with A Brutalist Dystopian Society – Part 2, a formidable new album that draws direct inspiration from the stark physicality and ideological weight of brutalist architecture. Across the project, Vaissade channels rigidity, minimalism and mass into dense, dissonant techno structures, pairing cold, concrete sonics with a broader reflection on failed utopian ideals and the social fractures they leave behind.
Widely renowned for his uncompromising live performances and improvised sets rather than traditional DJing, UFO95 has become a key figure in contemporary club music, with releases on labels such as Tresor, Clone, Mord and his own TSSRCT imprint alongside Hadone. In this ‘Behind The Record’ conversation, he unpacks the conceptual framework behind the album and the influence of brutalism’s aesthetic and politics, the importance of atmosphere over peak-time efficiency…
How are you approaching the New Year? Are you doing anything differently to last year?
UFO95: I feel calm and at peace for this new year. I’m trying to be less stressed overall and to trust life.
You’ve got a wicked new record titled A Brutalist Dystopian Society – Part 2, which is a striking title. What was the initial idea that sparked the record, and how did that concept evolve as you began writing the music?
UFO95: For these two albums (Part 1 and Part 2), Brutalist architecture and its wider concept have been a major source of inspiration: rigidity, minimalism, the avant-garde and futuristic dimension, and the harsh, cold nature of concrete. I combined this with a dystopian reflection on our society, which translates into dissonant, stressful synths.
Brutalist architecture plays a central role in the album’s identity. What qualities of these structures, both physical and ideological, did you want to translate into sound?
UFO95: I was drawn to the physical weight of brutalist architecture: mass, rigidity, repetition, and scale. Sonically, that translated into dense low frequencies, restrained harmonic movement, and very functional structures. Ideologically, brutalism was about utility and collective purpose, often at the expense of comfort or emotion. I wanted the music to feel the same way, imposing, reduced, almost indifferent, where nothing is decorative, everything serves pressure, tension and impact.
You’ve described brutalism as representing a failed utopian promise. How does that idea connect to the wider social and political themes explored across the record?
UFO95: Brutalism carried a promise of a better, more equal future, but over time it became associated with control, neglect, and social fracture. I see a parallel with our current society. Systems built with ideals that have turned oppressive or empty. The album reflects that disillusionment. It’s not nostalgic or romantic, it’s a dystopian observation of where those promises ended up, expressed through dissonance, stress, and unresolved tension.
If you had to pick a favourite track from the project, which would it be and why?
UFO95: It’s difficult to isolate one track because the album is conceived as a single block.
You’re renowned for performing improvised live sets rather than DJing. How did that live, instinctive approach influence the way this album was written and structured?
UFO95: The album was written with a live mindset. I think in terms of tension over time rather than tracks as standalone objects. Many ideas came from live jams, where instinct dictates structure more than theory. That approach keeps things raw and physical. I don’t over-polish, I keep mistakes, saturation, instability. The music needs to breathe and feel alive, even when it’s rigid.

As a Tresor resident and a regular at some of the world’s biggest clubs, how does that environment feed back into your studio work, and did this album mark any shift in your mindset as a producer?
UFO95: Those environments sharpen your sense of functionality. You feel immediately what works physically on a system and what doesn’t. For this album, I was less interested in peak-time efficiency and more focused on atmosphere and endurance. It’s still club music, but it demands patience.
What do you hope listeners take away from A Brutalist Dystopian Society (on the dancefloor or beyond it)?
UFO95: I don’t want to deliver comfort. I hope listeners feel confronted, physically on the dancefloor, or mentally when listening alone. Ideally, it creates space for reflection about our environment, our systems, and the pressure we live under. If it makes people feel something intense and unresolved, then it has done its job.
Brussels has become an important base for you. How has the city shaped your creative life compared to France or Berlin, both musically and culturally?
UFO95: Brussels feels more grounded and less performative. There’s a strong underground culture without the same pressure of image or expectation.
You run TSSRCT alongside Hadone. What have you learned from operating a label that’s influenced how you approach your own releases?
UFO95: Running a label teaches you discipline and responsibility. You become more aware of context, timing, and coherence. It also reinforces the importance of artistic integrity, releasing music because it needs to exist, not because it fits a market. That mindset feeds directly into how I approach my own projects.
Outside of music, what inspires or grounds you, whether that’s architecture, film, literature, or simply time away from the studio?
UFO95: Architecture is an obvious one, but also film, especially dystopian, sci-fi and fantastic movies. At the same time, stepping away from the studio is essential. Silence, routine, and distance help reset my perception.
