EM Guide: Oren Ambarchi – “I’m definitely interested in exploring things slowly and taking my time with the exploration“

A time waster from Sydney
You were born in Sydney in 1969 — a year that always makes me think of The Stooges and their classic song 1969. Let me quote the opening lines:
“Well, it’s 1969, okay
All across the USA
It’s another year for me and you
Another year with nothing to do
It’s another year for me and you
Another year with nothing to do”
Which is funny because you’re the opposite of a slacker in my eyes. It rather feels like Oren Ambarchi is always busy: producing music as an artist, releasing music with the label Black Truffle, and always communicating (no artist answers emails faster). So my first question would be:
Does Oren Ambarchi know the feeling of boredom?
Oren Ambarchi: Actually I feel like I’m quite lazy and a bit of a time waster, however like most people, I start to feel down and depressed when I‘m not busy. So I feel like I always need to be busy with multiple projects – touring, working on music, working on the label etc etc, it’s kind of normal for me to function this way. Boredom can be important as often it makes me daydream, think of ideas and imagine things that could be possible, so it can lead to inspiration and action.
What do you do when you actively try not to do something?
I would think of that in a playing or creating context. In a creative context it’s important to know when not to “say something”, to know when to leave something alone, or let a thing go. I could tweak a recording project forever but for example, I think it’s important not to “overcook” a mix, the more you perfect something the more you can suck the life out if it.
You were born in Sydney as mentioned. How do you remember your teenage years there?
I grew up very close to a beautiful beach, but from the age of 9 or 10 I just wasn’t interested in any of that. I just stayed in my bedroom, endlessly listening to records, recording stuff and reading. My parents were very confused about this. Now, when I revisit the area where I grew up I realize how beautiful it is, I really didn’t recognize this at the time.
Was Australia a good place to start your journey as an artist? You know what I mean, most artist at one point leave as everything is so far away from there.
I think it was positive as it was hard to access information about the music. So you really had to be passionate and be obsessed to find out about anything that was under the radar. It’s possible that my hunger for this stuff was fueled by the fact that I was so far away from the action and how difficult it was in those days to find out about anything that wasn’t super commercial.
I was also very fortunate that my grandfather had a store that sold used “junk” and from a young age I could borrow effect pedals, reel-to-reel machines, various instruments, and records from his store. This was a huge gateway for me where I was lucky to discover so many things that would shape my life.
For some people, their home is their world; for others, the world is their home. Looking at your long history of constant travel in the name of art, when did you start to feel that “there’s more than just Australia” for you?
Oh that was from a young age, probably in my early teens. All the records that were really huge for me were being made outside of Australia so I longed to go to those places and see the artists I loved live in concert, in real time, in the flesh.
I left for New York when I was 17, right after high school. I still can´t believe that my parents were ok with it. I was really determined to get out of Australia and explore.
But: I’m answering your questions from Melbourne actually. I am back in Australia quite often as I have a family there and many close friends and collaborators. It’s funny as many of the people I work with on my projects in Europe are Australian. The quality of their work is excellent and there’s an understanding and rapport that I have with certain Australian collaborators. So there’s always been a strong connection to my home country, even when I don’t live there anymore. I’m mixing a few projects with my Australian friend Joe Talia right now. I consciously wait until I’m in Australia to work on mixes with Joe.
“I love musicians who have their own distinct voice and transcend whatever genre or instrument they are working with”
You are a multi-instrumentalist. I mention this because almost every announcement you make emphasizes this fact. But how important is it to you? And what does it really mean to you?
I grew up playing mostly drums, and started experimenting with guitar in my 20s. When I was young I’d grab any instrument and try to make music. When I’m recording I’ll play anything to make the project “work”. I’m interested in many colors and textures so I’ve messed around on various instruments my whole life.
You started out as a drummer in a free jazz band in Sydney in the mid-1980s, but it wasn´t long before you were experimenting with rather unusual ways of playing the guitar (as opposed to conventional tuning and playing). What inspired you to use the guitar differently?
I was always interested in electronics and effect pedals from an early age, even before I started playing the guitar. By the time I started playing guitar I had already really been immersed in free jazz as a drummer which led me to discover experimental music. It made sense for me to approach the guitar in an unconventional way as I was listening to so much experimental music and I wasn´t trained as a guitarist.
Since you started as a drummer, do you think that has significance for everything that came after?
Absolutely. So much of my music has rhythmic elements, or some sort of a pulse. Rhythm has always been a huge part of my roots and interest.
The Wire magazine once described your guitar playing as “re-routing the instrument into a zone of alien abstraction where it’s no longer easily identifiable as itself. Instead, it’s a laboratory for extended sonic investigation. “What is it that you seek in music — first as a musician yourself, and also as a listener to the music of others?
I love being baffled by music, where there’s some sort of mystery to it that draws me in, where I feel compelled to investigate it, to immerse myself in that particular sound world. In other words, if I don’t ‘understand’ how something is happening or why it makes me feel so unusual and excited about it, I want to keep listening and grappling with it. But I’m not interested in working out the nuts and bolts of how music “works”, I’m more excited about how it makes me feel. It’s like I’m more interested in the question than the (obvious) answers. For me, part of the pleasure of making music is when it gets to a point where it becomes something “different” or where it’s almost like I am not making it anymore, where it somehow transcends the idea or ‘making of music’ and it becomes something else entirely. This happens rarely but it’s something I’m always chasing, in my own music and as a listener.
How do you organize your artist´s office?
What’s an artist’s office? I don’t have one. I have thousands of records at home which are my education and inspiration plus I have some equipment, but I don’t have a studio or a proper workspace. I’m either playing on the road or recording in a studio. When I’m home, I’m listening to music, working on the label or thinking about what to do next.
What do categories like time, space, duration, continuity, and dramaturgy mean to you as a performing artist? The question aims at the dichotomy of planned versus spontaneous music production.
I’m definitely interested in exploring things slowly and taking my time with the exploration. I like things to unfold subtly and not be too obvious. I’m not interested in hitting people over the head with an idea. There might be some sort of planned concept that is executed in a more spontaneous way.
You often perform in the context of improvised music. What does the term “improvised music” mean to you?
Oof, I don’t know anymore haha. These days that term seems kind of retro and I relate it to music of the past. It’s almost it’s own fixed genre and style that has a particular approach and sound. There’s plenty of improvisation in what I do and in many of my projects but I wouldn’t classify my music as improvised music even though so much of it is open. I guess I have a recognizable sound but I want to continually challenge myself so I’m not repeating the same thing over and over and instead it is constantly evolving.

“My family home was loud!”
Let me come back to your early biography. You were born into an Iraqi Jewish family. What was your home like? What did your parents do for a living? Was music important to them?
My family home was loud! Lots of friends and family coming over all the time, lots of food and celebrations, for no particular reason other than just being together. My parents were first-generation immigrants who initially didn’t speak English very well at first, so they did all kind of things to make ends meet. My father started off as a car mechanic, then ran a store with my mother, then he sold wholesale fabric out the back of a van, etc. etc. Lots of different jobs. Music was always blasting in the house, they had an eclectic record collection with all kinds of genres from all over the world.
Did your parents encourage you in your ambition to work in and with music?
Yes and no. I would bug them for instruments and they would resist and eventually they would relent and get something for me. They would take me to concerts if I persisted in hassling them about it.
I do remember always being told that “music is just a hobby” and “you need to find something reliable” etc etc. They were worried about survival and I was constantly told that there was no way I could make a living from music. This still pops into my head now even though I somehow manage to make it work as an artist. They were always worried about my obsession with music.
Has there ever been another possible path for you in life?
Every time I tried something else it always failed as I was so distracted by music. My parents would panic and force me to take a course in some sort of profession and I would be miserable but I would get through it. But I just wasn’t interested in anything else so I ended up not pursuing it, much to my parents´ dismay.
From 1994 to 2005, you and Robbie Avenaim organized the What Is Music festival together in various cities in Australia. What was the idea behind it?
We were excited about so much experimental music and all the artists we loved had never played in Australia. So initially we started the festival as a way to finally see these artists in concert. Then the festival became popular and a fixture in the experimental scene in Australia. It grew and grew and became quite important and influential.
Running a festival requires a lot of your time and energy, but it also brings new inspiration and contacts. What has been your experience as an artist running What Is Music for eleven years?
I have a lot of gray hair as a result. It was a lot of work and sometimes quite stressful. But we were so young, enthusiastic and excited about this music that we were really driven to make it happen. It was a great way to have an exchange between more established artists in Europe, Japan and North America and younger emerging artists in a relatively young country like Australia.
Do you feel that it had a huge impact on your path after that?
It definitely relates to what I am doing with the record label now. We were both into so many different kinds of music and we wanted to program everything to be super diverse and not predictable or obvious.
I can’t tell you how many shows I have played over the years on tour where every other artist on the bill with me is a different guitarist. Or how frustrated I am these days when you go to a festival and every artist is electronic and every set is basically a variation on the previous set. Yawn! It made sense for us to really mix things up every night, it was much more exciting for us, and exciting for the visiting musicians and for the audience – that approach definitely relates to how I run Black Truffle today.

Your list of collaborators is long and impressive, including artists such as Sunn O))), Jim O’Rourke, Keiji Haino, Alvin Lucier, Mark Fell, Will Guthrie, Andreas Werliin, Johan Berthling, Merzbow, Christian Fennesz, Peter Rehberg, Thomas Brinkmann, and Phill Niblock. To what extent do the musicians who collaborate with you get the same Oren Ambarchi?
Well, I like to try and contribute something that hopefully “works” and serves the music and also hopefully enhances that particular project while still being true to myself and doing my thing. Obviously what I would play with Sunn 0)) is going to be very different from what I would do with Alvin Lucier but I try to do my best for the music in both of those situations. I love so many different styles of music and I want to be challenged and do all kinds of stuff so it feels natural for me to jump from project to project.
Of course, they can’t get the same Oren Ambarchi, as the timeline of these collaborations spans over 35 years. What are the most significant changes in you as a musician during these years?
The big one would’ve been when I decided to switch from drums and start playing guitar which would’ve been around ‘91 or ‘92. That really changed the course of my life. Then in 1993 I was fortunate to work with older, established improvisors such as John Zorn after only playing guitar for a year or so. Another significant moment was hearing early French musique concrete and also getting into the burgeoning electronic music that was happening in Europe in mid-90s (on the Mego label along with artists such as Oval, Pan Sonic etc) and being really inspired by what they were doing but realizing that I only had a guitar and some effect pedals to work with and trying to find a way to do something along those lines with the primitive tools that I was working with. My playing really changed as a result. Working intensely with artists such as Keith Rowe, Alvin Lucier was also very significant.
What would the Oren Ambarchi of, let’s say, 1998 (the year your official discography starts) think of and say to the Oren Ambarchi of today?
I still think I’m just as passionate and curious about sound as I was in 1998. Maybe I have more experience now and feel more confident about what I “like” but I’m still excited about this stuff and it fuels everything I do.
Right now, you’re releasing mainly on Drag City and your own label, Black Truffle. First of all: Why did you start your own imprint in 2009? Looking at the artists and releases on the label, it seems like the common thread is Oren Ambarchi — meaning there’s no strict genre limitation or higher strategy, just your curiosity leading you to these artists and their sounds. Is that accurate?
Black Truffle wasn’t a “label” per se at its inception. I was a little frustrated that some of my older titles being out of print, so I started Black Truffle primarily to have some merch to sell at my solo shows. But then it kind of mutated into a “label”. There were releases by artists that I loved that were out of print, or kind of unknown/under the radar (or both) and I thought “wouldn’t it be great if this record was available again and people could discover it?”. So I started to reissue albums that were important to me. That led to releasing new works by both younger and older artists that I had worked with and admired, and it kind of grew from there. Like with my own work, there’s never any “strategy” and I don’t want things to be predictable. I just release music I dig.
The story goes that Stephen from Sunn O))) djed your music during the 2004 edition at the CMJ Festival – “Corkscrew” from Grapes from the Estate — which led to a fire alarm because of the frequencies. I bring this up because I wonder: What feelings do you hope to trigger in your audience?
When I play live I try to lose myself In the sound and go on some sort of ‘journey’. When an audience is super present and on the same wavelength as the performer, where’s there’s an exchange and everything is open and flowing – that’s the best feeling.
From Café Oto to: Monheim
In Monheim, you will present two projects. Your signature project “Hubris”, a reactivation of a project that originally began in 2016 with the album “Hubris” (released via Editions Mego), and which was continued with a performance at Café Oto in London in 2019 (the live recording “Live Hubris” was released in 2021 on Black Truffle).
Let’s start historically: What can you say about the genesis of this mega-group project? What was/is the idea behind it?
Many of my albums start with a conceptual idea. With “Hubris” for example, I was listening to a lot of disco and 80s new wave stuff. There is usually a short moment on a record that I might find incredible, but this moment only lasts a few seconds. For example, one of the initial inspirations for “Hubris” was from a 10 second section on the instrumental b-side of Tulio De Piscopo’s “Stop Bajon” 12”. Something about the way the two palm-muted guitars were panned hard left and hard right, that sound gave me so much excitement and inspiration, but it only lasted 10 seconds. So I said to myself: Why can’t a whole album sound like that 10 seconds? That was a big push for me with Hubris (and listening to Wang Chung’s “To Live & Die in L.A.” soundtrack). My most recent albums are usually inspired by a moment I’ve heard and then I frame a concept from that and run with it.
So „Hubris“ was about honing in on those little details, but expanding upon it with various things. It was also a reflection of my lifestyle where I didn’t really have a normal home situation, I was traveling from gig to gig and living on the road for months at a time. This record started because I was playing a show in London, and Mark Fell was in Rotherham. I said, “I’ve got this idea for a new record – maybe I could come over and do some stuff?” Then my next stop was Berlin to work with Konrad Sprenger, and it built from there. I think the last person I worked with was Jim O’Rourke, when I was in Tokyo. So the album slowly expanded during my tour – that’s why there are so many different people from all over the world on the record.
I played with Arto Lindsay when I was 23, with John Zorn in New York, but I didn’t think he’d even remember who I was. I imagined a wild Arto Lindsay guitar thing on “Hubris Part 3”, so I started to do it myself at home. And then I said to myself ‘Why am I imitating it? Maybe he would do it?’ So I got in touch with him, and a day or two later I had 30 minutes of Arto Lindsey playing over this piece. Amazing! It kind of sounds like a band, but it’s actually me making a “virtual band”.
When Café Oto invited me to a 3-day festival focusing on my work and the Black Truffle label, I thought it would be fun to put together a band to perform “Hubris” live. It was the first time we did it and the show was really insane – thankfully it was recorded and it became the “Live Hubris” album. This will be the 3rd time we’re performing the piece in concert.
For Monheim, you invited a remarkable list of fellow artists and friends to join you for the Hubris 2025 performance: Konrad Sprenger, Sam Dunscombe, Mats Gustafsson, Jules Reidy, Phillip Sollmann, Fredrik Rasten, Marcus Pal, Johan Berthling, Will Guthrie, crys cole, Andreas Werliin, Johan Berthling, and hopefully also Eiko Ishibashi. How did this line-up come together? What is your role within it? Do you feel like the leader of the band, or how would you describe it?
All of the players are friends and collaborators that I love working with. On the one hand with this piece there are clear parameters and instructions for how I would like it played. But there’s also room for improvisation and extending sections along with each player´s own interpretation. Each player has a personal voice and brings something unique to the piece.
How much of the sound narrative of “Hubris” is pre-written, and how much is free to explore in the specific situation?
It’s a composed piece with a timeline and clear sections and instructions however there is an openness and room for improvisation.
The second performance will be a concert by Ghosted, the band you maintain together with Andreas Werliin and Johan Berthling. So far, you’ve released two records together on Drag City. Of course, the name suggests something about the sound of the project. Building on this: Which ghosts do you invoke?
The name is kind of meaningless for us, it was a silly name that somehow ‘stuck’.
What do you particularly appreciate about Andreas Werliin and Johan Berthling?
I really love working with Johan and Andreas. They are lovely people and incredible musicians. They are super elegant on their instruments and really elevate everything and provide the perfect canvas for what I do.
This is already your third time in Monheim. The first time you participated in the signature project of Phillip Sollmann and Konrad Sprenger, and last year you were one of the 16 artists in the so-called Prequel edition of the Monheim Triennale. What have you learned from these collaborations
The trio with Phillip Sollmann and Konrad Sprenger is always fun to do. The Prequel was quite different as there were many collaborations with people I’d never met before. Playing live with people that you’ve just literally met, in a new context, can be challenging but it is a way you grow as a player/artist. I enjoyed the exchange of meeting other artists from around the world and working together for the first time.
Last question: As I know that you’re a foodie — do you have any dishes connected to your music, like a favorite dinner you have when a record is done, or a favorite food before a gig?
I couldn’t pick a dish but I definitely get very excited when I know I gave concerts in places like Japan, Italy, Mexico, Spain, Greece, Thailand etc as the incredible food there is a huge bonus!

This feature was originally conducted for the Monheim Papers / Monheim Triennale.
This article is brought to you by Kaput as part of the EM GUIDE project – an initiative dedicated to empowering independent music magazines and strengthen the underground music scene in Europe. Read more about the project at emgui.de
Funded by the European Union. Views and opinions expressed are however those of the author(s) only and do not necessarily reflect those of the European Union or the European Education and Culture Executive Agency (EACEA). Neither the European Union nor EACEA can be held responsible for them.