In this series, I explore the grassroots music scene, examining the key players, their roles, and the insights they can offer to Joyzine and its readers.
Uran Apak is an artist, composer, vocal coach and musician whose work fuses electronica, improvisation, and Anatolian psychedelia. Known for transformative live shows, he creates spontaneous, engaging songs using voice, beats, and a loop station.
What first drew you to music, and which artists or influences shaped your early musical journey?
I recently found a tape from my childhood. I’d recorded onto it using my grandpa’s portable tape recorder. It reminded me of my real beginnings—technology and voice were always part of it.
The tape features a rap/pop song I wrote when I was nine years old. I remember spending an entire day obsessing over the lyrics, and they’re actually quite funny. The rest of the tape features my made-up radio show. The biggest surprise is the part where I get bored of all those formats and start improvising with my voice! I didn’t know what I was doing back then, but it makes sense now—I see how naturally it comes to children.
My grandpa deserves further credit. He had a Casio keyboard that I used to jam on, and he also wrote poetry. So all three ingredients were always present for me: electronic music, improvisation, and poetry.
Goodbye Old World album launch
Your live shows are largely improvised—how does it feel to create and perform in the moment?
Improvising is always such a thrill because neither you nor the audience knows where the journey will take you. Honestly, I find it really hard now to perform only with pre-composed material, especially knowing how much more fun and free it feels when there are improvised parts.
You co-founded the UK Vocal Improv Festival—could you share how that initiative came to life?
The UK Vocal Improv Festival is the baby of a growing community, now four years strong. Collaborative vocal improv is still a very niche thing, but once people get into it, they’re in it for life. Improvising within a group of voices is a psychedelic trip in itself.
The founding members of the festival are all improvising artists and workshop facilitators who are passionate about the art form. The lockdowns brought us together, offering twice-daily online sessions—a space for participants to sing and improvise, led by a group of experienced facilitators. When the lockdowns ended, we had a small but solid community and a big desire to gather in person. That’s how the festival format began. This year, we’re taking a break as we work on our vision and mission—but we’ll be back in 2026.
The video for Goodbye Old World has a distinct Lynchian atmosphere. Could you tell us more about the concept behind the project and how it came together?
David Lynch has always been a huge inspiration, so I’m flattered by you saying that! I wonder what makes the video Lynchian. Maybe it’s that feeling where something deep and dark could be lurking around the corner, while the whole thing is also a bit ridiculous and funny at the same time.
Goodbye Old World is my debut album. The previous releases were more like selections from different times in my life. Believe it or not, I’ve been composing electronic music since the late ’90s!
Goodbye Old World marks a major transition in my life—when I started going out, raving, meeting new people and communities, after many years of living in my cave. It’s also based on the idea that the apocalypse has already happened and we are now collectively building a new world. It’s an uneasy but fresh and exciting feeling I had as I began navigating post-lockdown reality. The album carries the hope of breaking intergenerational trauma and building a new world based on solid new values.
You’ve had the opportunity to perform at prestigious venues such as The Barbican, Southbank Centre, and Roundhouse. Looking back, what would you consider the highlight of your career so far?
Actually, the highlight wasn’t any of those prestigious venues—it was a recent gig at the Electronic Music Open Mic (EMOM) at the Dublin Castle in Camden. I’ve been developing my electronic setup to help me feel as free as possible while improvising. That was the first time I used a specific chain of tools: my voice as the starting point, the loop station following my voice, and the beats from the computer following the loop station. It felt like I had put the human back where it belongs—at the center of creativity—with technology in service of the human element. In the ’90s, Radiohead said, “OK Computer,” and I knew what they meant. Now I’m saying, “OK Human, it’s your turn again.”
Previously, I operated from a feeling of scarcity—I thought I needed more costumes, more visuals, more things to enhance the musical experience. I was constantly frustrated that I didn’t have enough of them. But that EMOM gig flipped things for me. I began to trust my flow and vulnerability more. It really felt like a turning point in my journey—venturing out and taking the audience with me. The post-show feedback confirmed what I felt. I want this experience to be the foundation for my next steps.
If you had the chance to be a support act at a major festival, who would you choose to share the stage with, and what draws you to that artist?
I guess an older version of me would say Björk—but that implies a more mature audience. I also want to connect with younger people, hahaa. So I’ll say Alewya. I’m a fan of her singing, production, and how she incorporates her Ethiopian/Egyptian heritage into her unique electronic sound world. I saw her live at a festival in London a couple of years ago, and she was like a shaman on stage—a deep, ecstatic, dancey, and spiritual experience. She’s also a visual artist, and her drawings are part of her artistic universe, which is really cool.
Catch Uran headlining Electroniq at the Dublin Castle on May 23rd
Uran Apaks’ socials | Youtube | Instagram | Bandcamp
Article by Mr Laurence
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