Few artists can take the raw ache of unrequited love and transform it into something as expansive and intricate as Cyan II. With this release, Quicche—Marc Grünhäuser to those who’ve followed his career beyond the pseudonym—threads the needle between experimental vulnerability and shimmering precision.

This is not the work of an artist playing it safe. With influences ranging from James Blake’s haunted minimalism to the lush textures of folktronica and shoegaze, Quicche doesn’t so much imitate his inspirations as build something uniquely his. As he prepares for the release of his debut album in spring 2025, we sat down with Grünhäuser to talk about the evolution of his sound, his collaboration with the iconic R&S Records, and how an artist grounded in avant-garde roots manages to stay so relentlessly forward-thinking.

photo by Anna Balthasar

When listening to “Cyan II”, it feels as though you’re stepping into a half-forgotten film: fragmented electronic motifs give way to subtle whispers of folk, while the theme of unrequited love pushes its way through the sound. What kind of internal narrative were you building in your mind while recording this track, and how deeply is it tied to your own experiences?

‘Cyan II’, like all my music, is based entirely on my own experiences, whether external or internal. I like the comparison to a half-remembered film because the phenomenon of unrequited love, at least for me, often happens through my own projection. In the past, I have repeatedly idealised people who have not returned my love – as in a film in which the actors play a role that is supposed to appeal to the audience, but no longer has much to do with the real person.

You speak of unrequited love as something all-consuming, impossible to ignore, with the repeated line “She’s all I know” resonating like a mantra. It’s as though the protagonist of a film is trapped in a single, endlessly looping key frame. How do you transform this exhausting feeling of obsession into a musical form that can move the listener rather than wear them out?

My main starting point is the processing of the voice, which is so alienated that it no longer really sounds ‘human’. For many, the song may seem less emotional because of this, but for me, it increases the emotionality and the message immeasurably. In moments of obsession, we often lose ourselves, act differently than we would apart from it, and in a way lose our natural voice. I hope that the song, in addition to the melancholy that it undoubtedly carries, also inspires you to rediscover your own voice and thus yourself.

The R&S label is often associated with a distinct character on the electronic scene. I’m curious about how this legendary platform has influenced the shape of your music, given that every artist has their own “directorial” style. What specifically about working with R&S gave you the freedom to create “Cyan II”, and how does this reflect in your upcoming album?

I only got in touch with R&S after I had already finished writing and producing the album and thus ‘Cyan II’. Accordingly, there was no influence in this regard.  At the moment I am working on my second album and even now there has been no influence or strict direction from the label, which I appreciate a lot and I am aware of how rare it is to find such artistic freedom these days.

From your earliest works, particularly “TAGIOG” and “White Teeth”, there’s a noticeable poetic quality that ties together folktronica, shoegaze, and those ethereal layers of sound. What triggered the shift to the bolder, let’s say “cascading” sound of “Cyan II”, and how does it shape the overall picture of your forthcoming album?

In fact, the order of the songs shows a certain progression from folk to electronic music, culminating in the release of ‘Red Eyes’, a track that was heavily influenced by UK garage. I think the singles reflect the full range of the album well, but they also show that I am developing as an artist and allowing myself to try new things. 

Today, many electronic projects either lean heavily into abstraction or emphasise overt pop melodicism, yet your track manages to be both pop-accessible and boldly experimental. What do you see as the main risk of this approach when walking the line between broad audience appeal and artistic radicalism?

Good observation! In fact, I try to combine experimental and catchy elements in my music because I have always been fascinated by absurd or intangible sounds, but I am aware of how easy it is to get lost in them. I think that’s exactly the danger: despite its progressive reputation, the art scene still sees itself as a very elitist circle, and as soon as something has even a whiff of pop, it’s met with rejection. Likewise, some people’s listening habits have become so attuned to euphony, harmony and repetition that even the slightest experimental sounds become unbearable. So I’m constantly caught between two stools and inevitably have to deal with the fact that I’m not only met with goodwill from both camps. However, since I try to completely detach myself from the outside perspective and the audience when creating music, this is perfectly fine and part of my decision.

You’ve mentioned James Blake as an inspiration. Were you ever concerned that this comparison might overshadow you, especially considering how critics often place emerging artists in the shadow of their idols?

In fact, I never had that fear. Even though the song is undoubtedly influenced by James Blake or much more the feeling of a certain time, it contains just as many elements that Blake would certainly never have used. And when you listen to the album as a whole, you will realise that the different perspectives far outweigh the common ones.

Do you think electronic music can be more honest than acoustic music?

I don’t think that different genres or musical styles can be more honest than others. At the end of the day, sounds are just a medium for artists, who determine how honest they want to be.

If you could release a cover of a song no one would ever expect to hear from you, what would it be?

I’ve been listening to Holly Humberstone’s song ‘Can You Afford To Lose Me?’ on repeat lately. Like I said, I definitely have a pop soul in me, and I think the songwriting and production on this one are outstanding.

If you were asked to create a soundtrack for a video game or a film, what genre would it belong to, and what would its main storyline be?

I would love to make an ambient soundtrack for a short film. Something art house-like with no dialogue and no big plot – a film that calms you down, with a continuous ambient track that supports this calm. In second place would be a nature documentary about whales or birds.

What’s your most unexpected or peculiar memory connected to music?

The first time I opened a music production programme: the realisation that I could capture and make audible all the things I hear in my head was just utterly insane to me and kept me locked in my room for weeks.

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