Between hypnosis and release: Planet Opal on patterns, cities, and the energy of repetition

Born from a spontaneous creative breakthrough during a trip to Corsica, Planet Opal has built a sound that lives somewhere between krautrock hypnosis, dance-punk energy and electronic experimentation. In this interview, the Italian duo reflects on the ideas behind their latest album Recreate Patterns, Release Energy, the contrasting influence of Bergamo and Berlin on their music, and why everyday moments — even the hum of a McDonald’s fridge — can spark unexpected inspiration. Planet Opal will bring this immersive, club-meets-concert experience to the A38 Ship on March 21.

Planet Opal began around 2018, reportedly after a trip to Corsica that sparked the idea of the project. What happened during that time that made you feel you had found a shared musical direction?

That trip was basically the moment when everything clicked. We had already been playing together for years in different projects, so there was already a shared language between us, but in Corsica we suddenly realized we were moving toward something that felt new.
We spent a few days with nothing to do except experiment with rhythms, synths and ideas, and the direction appeared quite naturally. What we were building had the physical energy of a band but also the hypnotic repetition of electronic music. It didn’t feel like a traditional rock setup anymore, but it wasn’t purely electronic either.
By the end of those days we didn’t have a name yet, but we both knew that a new project had started. Planet Opal basically grew out of that moment.

Your sound blends krautrock, dance-punk and electronic music in a way that feels both vintage and futuristic. Was there a moment when you realized this mix had become the identity of Planet Opal?

It wasn’t really a conscious decision to mix those elements. Both of us grew up listening to a pretty wide spectrum of music: punk, rock, post-anything really, techno, dubstep, bass music, krautrock and a lot of other things in between. At some point we realized that the most natural way for us to work was not to choose one lane but to let those influences coexist and collide.
The moment it started to feel like the identity of Planet Opal was probably when we began playing live and noticed that people couldn’t easily place what they were hearing. Some felt like they were at a concert, others like they were in a club. That ambiguity felt like a good place to be.

If you had to name three artists whose influence lives somewhere in the DNA of Planet Opal, who would they be?

Three names that probably live somewhere in the DNA of Planet Opal would be Soulwax, Pyrolator and Brian Eno. Soulwax for the way they blur the line between band energy and electronic music, keeping things raw and physical even when they are clearly club oriented. Pyrolator and more generally that whole wave of kraut minimalism (Felix Kubin deserves a special note) for the hypnotic approach to rhythm and repetition. And Brian Eno for the more atmospheric dimension of sound, the idea that music can shape a space and a state of mind as much as it delivers melodies.

Your latest album, Recreate Patterns, Release Energy, feels like a very dynamic record, moving between hypnotic grooves, introspective moments and explosive rhythms. What was the main idea or emotional starting point behind the album?

The starting point of the album was the idea that we all live inside patterns. Habits, routines, ways of thinking that help us organize life but can also trap us if they become too rigid. The title Recreate Patterns, Release Energy plays with that idea: instead of simply repeating patterns, you reshape them and something new happens. Musically we tried to translate that concept into structures that are often repetitive and hypnotic but suddenly open up or break into something more explosive. There’s a constant tension between control and release.

You worked on the album between Bergamo and Berlin, two cities with very different musical atmospheres. Did either place shape the mood or energy of the record in a noticeable way?

Bergamo and Berlin definitely shaped the record in different ways, also on a personal level. Bergamo is home. It’s where we grew up, where many of our friends and families are, where everything is familiar and comfortable. There is good food, familiar places, a slower rhythm of life and a sense of stability that makes it easier to focus and spend long hours working on music without too many distractions.
Berlin is almost the opposite. It constantly pulls you out of your comfort zone. The city has a much more chaotic and intense energy, especially if you are involved in music and nightlife. You are surrounded by artists, clubs, ideas, people doing things in very different ways, and that can be both inspiring and slightly disorienting.
I think the album reflects that contrast. Some parts feel more introspective and controlled, almost like they were written in a quiet room where you can really focus on details. Others carry a more restless and physical energy, the feeling of a city that never really stops moving. In a way the record lives exactly between those two worlds.

In songs like Indigo Skies you sing in English, while tracks like Montagne A Colori feel much more rooted in the Italian language and imagery. Do different languages unlock different emotional spaces when you write? How important is it for you to keep Italian elements in the project?

Different languages definitely open different emotional spaces. English tends to work well with the rhythmic side of the music and with a certain tradition of alternative and electronic songwriting. At the same time, for us the use of English is also partly a legacy of how we grew up musically. When we were teenagers playing in bands, most of the references we had were international, and a sort of unwritten rule formed around that world: if you wanted to make music in that sphere, you wrote in English, also because it seemed like the only way to reach audiences outside your own country.
In a way that mindset can also become a small cage that you carry with you for years without really questioning it. Italian on the other hand has a very specific imagery and musicality that can open completely different emotional spaces, sometimes more cinematic or surreal.
Today we also feel that the English-speaking world has become much more open to listening to music without necessarily understanding the lyrics directly, which is something we Italians (and other non-english speaking countries) have been doing for decades with foreign music. Because of that, the idea of gradually moving toward writing more and more in Italian is starting to take shape for our future music.

One of the most intriguing songs on the album is I’ve Heard Brian Eno in the McDonald’s Fridge. The idea reportedly came from a moment when Giorgio was working at McDonald’s and the sound of the refrigerator reminded him of Brian Eno’s Thursday Afternoon. Do unexpected everyday sounds like this often find their way into your music?

Yes, in a way that happens quite often, although it’s not always about literal sounds. More generally our songs tend to start from small external suggestions that somehow trigger an internal reflection. The story behind I’ve Heard Brian Eno in the McDonald’s Fridge is a good example. Giorgio was working there at the time and the sound of the refrigerator had this slow ambient drone that genuinely reminded him of Thursday Afternoon by Brian Eno. It was a strange and slightly surreal moment that stayed in his head and eventually became the title of a track. In general we like the idea that everyday situations from the outside world can unexpectedly open a door to something more introspective.

The Italian music scene has been producing a lot of exciting experimental and electronic artists in recent years, but exporting that music internationally can still be a challenge. From your perspective, how easy or difficult is it for Italian artists to reach audiences across Europe, and how helpful can initiatives like Liveurope be in that process?

The Italian scene right now is incredibly interesting if you know where to look. There are many artists doing adventurous electronic and experimental music, but the challenge is that a lot of it exists slightly outside the mainstream infrastructure. Reaching audiences across Europe can still be difficult because you need networks, festivals and promoters willing to take risks on artists from different countries. Initiatives like Liveurope are extremely valuable because they create those connections and give emerging artists the chance to play in new contexts and build an international audience.

This year Liveurope is focusing on the role of technology in music. Your music relies heavily on the interaction between analog drums, synthesizers and electronic production. How do you approach technology when shaping your sound and translating it into a live performance? Do your songs change or evolve on stage compared to the studio versions?

Technology is obviously a big part of the music, but we try not to treat it as the main character. For us it’s more like a tool that lets the music move between different states. The interaction between acoustic drums, synthesizers and electronic processing is really where a lot of Planet Opal’s character comes from.
When we translate the music to the stage, we try to reproduce the songs as faithfully as possible to the album, but naturally, there are always subtle differences. Playing a patch on an analog synth like the Moog Grandmother or the ARP2600 gives slightly different timbres each time, and the drums are 100% human, so every performance finds its own nuances.
In a way, those small variations are exactly what make the live set alive. The songs remain recognizable, but the energy, textures, and small surprises make the experience different every time. The set is meant to feel like a continuous flow, rather than just a sequence of fixed tracks.

You’ll be performing at the A38 Ship in Budapest for the first time. Is this also your first time playing in Hungary, and what kind of experience are you hoping to share with the audience here?

Yes, it will be our first time playing in Hungary and also our first show at A38. Playing in new places is always exciting because you don’t know exactly what the context will feel like. What we hope to share with the audience is a very physical and immersive experience, something that sits somewhere between a concert and a club set. Ideally by the end of the show it doesn’t really matter anymore which one it is.