Sylvie Kreusch: Finding harmony between nostalgia and transformation

Known for her evocative soundscapes and visually stunning artistry, Sylvie Kreusch is no stranger to breaking conventions. With the recent release of her album Comic Trip, the Belgian artist invites listeners on an introspective journey, weaving childhood nostalgia with the raw realities of adulthood. In this conversation, Kreusch shares insights into her creative process, the inspirations behind her genre-defying music, and how her performances reflect a dramatic duality between vulnerability and empowerment. Prepare to delve into the mind of an artist whose work is as fragile and transformative as the metaphorical glass she admires.

Your music blends various styles and influences. How would you personally describe your unique sound to someone discovering your music for the first time? 

I would say it’s very nostalgic, visual and, imaginative… i never follow trends ,I use certain instruments in pop music that you wouldn’t normally hear, like the harmonica and percussive instruments. I stay away from electronics and want to make people dance to warm, physical sounds.

You often experiment with genres and unconventional arrangements. What inspires you to push boundaries in your music?

I never feel like I’m consciously pushing my boundaries while writing. I quickly develop a visual world in my head at the start of the process, and it’s important that this world is reflected in my music. I don’t think about what the audience might expect, because then I would get completely stuck. I try to be as honest as possible with myself. For example, if I feel inspired by children’s music from my childhood, nothing will stop me from incorporating that into my music. In this way, interesting combinations of genres and arrangements come together.

Your latest album Comic Trip was released this november. Can you share the inspiration behind its title and concept? Are there personal experiences or milestones in your life that inspired the album’s narrative?

I felt a huge inner conflict between the stable adult life that I really enjoy and my difficulty in letting go of the unpredictability of life. I’m searching for a balance where I don’t lose my playfulness and wonder. I want my senses to be fully open, without losing myself completely. I tried to retreat into my childish fantasies, moments of complete carefreeness, but this didn’t come without encountering darker moments. As you can hear on the record, there’s a clear turning point, the moment when Daddy’s Selling Wine starts. And that’s how it happened in my own life as well— everyone has a moment when they suddenly face the harsh reality of life. A child then retreats even deeper into their fantasy world, hiding the memory safely away until years later, when the bomb finally bursts.There are also moments on the record where I sing more about the future… the great fears that overwhelm me, about the world falling apart, and wanting to dream but not daring to.

What was the creative process like for this album? Did you explore any new themes or sounds that differ from your previous work?

Montbray was clearly written among the cows, it had a deserted feeling, which made the folk influences stand out more. On this album, you can hear western influences, I go back to the 60s and draw inspiration from The Shangri-Las and Sinatra. Two new key instruments on this album are the vibrant piano and the harmonica.

Can you share a personal anecdote about the creation of Comic Trip that fans wouldn’t know just by listening to the album?  

I live on the 12th floor, and I was recording my vocals when suddenly certain radio frequencies started bleeding into the recording. I was completely confused. When I listened back, I heard Hit Me Baby One More Time, so I decided to keep it in the track. It’s hidden somewhere in a choir part—no idea if anyone will actually hear it.

Is there a particular track on Comic Trip that holds special meaning for you? Can you tell us more about it?

The intro song Sweet Love Coconut was written with my feet in the sea. I spent a long period island-hopping with my partner, and I suddenly remembered a conversation with my therapist, where she asked me if I would still choose him if I lived on a deserted island with him. At the time, I was still afraid to fully dive into the relationship, but that question gave me clarity. So, a year later, we were away from the world on our own little island, and the only moments we didn’t see each other for three minutes was when one of us went to fetch a coconut for the other. When we got home, we immediately went to the food store to buy bottles of coconut water, because the taste of coconut now reminds us of choosing each other.

Your music videos are often visually stunning and symbolic. How involved are you in their creation, and do you see yourself as a visual artist as well as a musician?

During the writing process, I quickly start forming images in my head, and I create a moodboard almost immediately. These ideas then influence my music as well. I invest a lot of time and energy into my visual world, searching for artists who understand my vision, and I give them a starting point from which they can build, but we continue to bounce ideas back and forth. I find it hard to just hand over this task because it’s something that needs to remain personal to me. The visuals influence the music, and I want people to experience them in the right way.

Your performances are known to be immersive and theatrical. Does your personality naturally lean toward the dramatic, or is this an artistic persona you’ve cultivated?

In my personal relationships, I can be very closed off; I’m highly conflict-averse, which is why music has become the space where I dare to show all my emotions. In real life, I also often prefer to remain invisible and, at times, I can be quite shy… but when I’m on stage, I transform. When I think about the shows I have to perform, I often feel scared by the thought of so many people looking at me. But the moment I step on stage, all my fears disappear, and I feel free. The best part of this job is when you find an audience that truly understands you. They give you more and more in return, allowing you to give even more back. There’s a deeper sense of joy and less of the need to prove yourself. My body and voice gain a certain strength on stage that I struggle to find in my everyday life.

Belgium has such a rich and diverse music scene. How has your heritage influenced your art?

I’ve been fortunate to quickly be surrounded by incredibly talented and inspiring musicians in Belgium. I’ve had the luck of being able to develop myself in a very natural way, and people believed in me early on and were eager to work with me. However, it wasn’t until a later age that I started writing my own songs. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to do it, scared of disappointing myself. But when my then partner (Maarten from Warhaus) heard my first demos, he was over the moon, and that gave me the strength to keep going, especially because I looked up to his talent as a songwriter. I think we all need validation from artists we admire.

Looking into the future, where do you see your musical journey taking you in the next few years? Are there any dream projects you’d love to pursue?

My greatest wish is to stay inspired and continue to transform. A good friend of mine, Stef Van Looveren (a multidisciplinary artist), expressed this beautifully in their latest work. Glass is a wonderful metaphor for life. How fragile and delicate everything ultimately is, but also how it can be melted down and reshaped into something new (which Stef literally does in the performance). And that’s what’s so important in life and in art — to keep taking on new forms, to stay warm so that we don’t freeze and break. So that’s all I can say about the future. Oh, and maybe someday start a girls’ band – that just seems really fun, haha!