Get between the sheets and slip into the dream world with rapid pi movement, a column from beloved mix series and label pi pi pi. Each month, it will feature a cheeky conversation with an artist from the wider pi soundscape about their experiences beyond waking life, alongside an unreleased track that showcases where their head is at between releases.

llloyd and I met in 2015, at a party in Austin that I threw in collaboration with my pal Malika called Pleasure Escape. The party took place at Tamale House, a Mexican restaurant run by the family of my friend Robert Valera. llloyd, a producer and DJ who had just moved to Austin, walked into Switched On, a local synth shop, wanting to know if there were any parties happening with “club music.” 

Club nights were few and far between in the hazy garage-rock-infused landscape of Austin at the time. Because of that, we started a vibe of our own that everyone involved now looks back on with nostalgia. llloyd inquiring about “club music” at a small synth shop led to me meeting my partner of seven years, his best friend from college that he had convinced to move to Austin with him. I cannot help but wonder about all the other micro-connections that parties like this solidify. 

Since then, my friendship with llloyd has strengthened, and our love of music has evolved. From DJing in Austin on Traktor controllers at house parties in 2015, to going b3b at the Lot Radio in 2021 and, most recently, playing together at llloyd’s ever-growing Club Moniker party in San Francisco, which recently just started a label, we’ve always bonded over bringing people together in a DIY style. llloyd started producing experimental music alongside Pascäal as Dreampeter. Now he works in a more club-forward production style, highly influenced by the UK bass sound we have all come to love recently. 

This month, rapid pi movement presents “Warning,” a new track from llloyd blending shuffling rhythms with amapiano-style log drum bass and oozing disco stabs. We also engaged in a dream-like Q&A traversing llloyd’s post-waking habits, the San Francisco bass scene (and its growing predilection for experimenting with scent), and a special club-music edition of Fuck, Marry, Kill.

deep creep: What does this track mean to you?

llloyd: I’ve been getting back into music production this year, wanting to make tracks that I’d actually want to play out as a DJ. I joined a small group of friends in a music production accountability group coordinated by local producer extraordinaire Farsight, where we prepare a ~final track to share every couple of weeks. It was really invigorating to have some pressure to finish projects consistently, and some of the output came out this year on my collective Club Moniker’s label. This was one of my favorites from those sessions. 

Since Scratcha DVA began their NTS residency in late 2021, I’ve listened to almost every episode. This is how I got introduced to UK post-grime/amapiano crossover stuff like Tribal Brothers, Polo, European305, DJ Eastwood, and others in the scene. This track is an exploration of some of those sounds and themes on my own terms. 

Looking directly at my phone as soon as I wake up is a guilty habit that I just can't seem to break. What did you do after you opened your eyes this morning?

Lately I’ve been bad at avoiding my phone in the mornings. It’s such a bad habit, and AM screen time can really cloud an otherwise tranquil morning. But it’s been hard to stay away from it with the situation in Palestine, especially when there’s such a disparity in coverage between social media and mainstream news outlets. It’s important to pay attention and hard to ignore. 

What was the first track you heard today?

I love listening to a soft record in the morning while my mind is fresh and unencumbered by the thoughts of the day. Ideally I put it on first thing after waking up, and it helps me ease out of bed.

Today I put on Hydroplane’s self-titled full length from last year. I love the first track, “Wurlitzer Jukebox,” and had it on the playlist for a gig last night but didn’t end up playing it. 

An all-time favorite morning play for me is Andrew Weatherall’s NTS show, Music Isn’t for Everyone—and specifically, the second-to-last episode. The magic is so abundant in this one. You can feel Andrew’s presence through the recording. It’s a tender way to ease into awareness.

Mornings are a deep liquid rotation. What is in yours?

Ideally water. But I’ve also gotten a bit obsessed with my AeroPress coffee routine. It’s a nice little ritual in the morning and useful for limiting myself to a single cup. 

I got into AeroPress during the pandemic, but I didn’t really get into tweaking my method until recently. There’s this person on YouTube that empirically breaks down the different factors that affect the roast of the coffee, and through watching their videos, I learned that I was doing a bunch of superfluous, time-wasting steps. This has given me a bit more time per session to be more accurate by weighing and timing different steps—proper nerd stuff.

I can’t really do more than a cup in the morning, so I’ve been enjoying light roasts especially. They feel delicate like a tea and aren’t too overpowering.

When I played Club Moniker, your party made custom scents for all the DJs. What scent would you be?

In the Bay, promoters have started to recognize the importance of scent in creating an atmosphere. The first party in my memory to do this was a great, small-scale party called Vague Terrain, which has spun off a cool scent label called Endev. One of the events I host, Hyper K, has a custom scent from our good friend David Le Brun. Club Moniker has been working with another scent artist, Zapah Lab, to create custom scents for artists that play our parties.

For me, I’d be something mossy and forest-y, like pine or eucalyptus. Maybe a little bit of musk too. Perfumes can be too much for me, so I apply lightly or avoid direct skin application.

If you were stuck with one alarm ringtone option for eternity, what track would that be?

Alarms are a guaranteed way to ruin a sound. The context of being warned, and the ice cream truck-like level of repetition, are sure to destroy any pre-existing relationship I have with it.

My partner’s car sometimes autoplays the first song in my library when connecting. It's the a-side of a Peshay mixtape, and I’ve grown to loathe the first few chords despite their general pleasantness. It’s pretty maddening.

Rather than ruin a new sound, I’ll just keep a generic “alarm bell” ringtone.

After having a sweaty, intense nightmare, you wake up to an alarm clock that reads: 3:33. What do you wish for?

A bedside w3:33d pen to calm me back to sleep.

These days I have been a touch sleepy and am struggling to stay up late to partake in NYC club life. If you had to sleep at a club…what area would you choose?

The chill-out room is definitely the place to nap. But it’s been a long while since I’ve been to a party with a proper place to lay down and rest. TBH, I’d probably just leave.

Which DJ would you choose to make a mix to represent your dream life?

I usually don’t remember my dreams (blaming the 🌿), but whenever I catch a glimpse of the dream world, it usually feels pretty static. I’m always on an arbitrary, urgent journey to someplace I’ll never reach. I’m not a lucid dreamer, and I don’t have any control over my dreams. It’s kind of like the embodied recording device from Existenz, but flipping from scene to scene, without the ability to pause or intervene.

I’d pick a sound collage-y downtempo expert like DJ Olive. Their productions always feel like you’re being propelled through whimsical sonic spaces, similar to my typical dream-viewing experience.

Fuck, Marry, Kill: local nightclubs in SF.

Fuck: Public Works Loft. A good friend of mine used to book parties there, and I have a lot of fond memories from when I first began to come out to SF. However, it’s attached to a much larger club area downstairs, so there’s often another party that encroaches on the vibe. Basically, a live-in inlaw; not marriage material.

Marry: Underground SF. This is easily my favorite club in the city. It sounds decent, is small enough to take a risk on a booking, and feels like a community space more than a typical nightclub. I probably go two-to-three times a month.

Kill: I’m not going to name this club explicitly, but there’s a larger, standard-fare local club that I’ve abstained from attending for years. All of my friends used to complain about how shitty it is, so I just took their word for it and never went.

Your surroundings are everything. You spend most of your time in clubs. What is your dream club experience, top to bottom?

My dream club would be a place that I want to stay in as long as possible. A space with places to lounge, places to lay, an abundance of water, food. A negative “club tax,” if you will.

It feels so rare to find a place where the basic club elements—sound, staff, books, space, location, etc.— all match up. As an American clubgoer, it almost feels perverse to fantasize since a “dream club” feels so out of reach. For now, I’m perfectly content with a decent DIY space, so long as the sound is good and there’s a community.

IMAGE CREDIT: Mariah Tiffany