Rose Holland on new beginnings, field recording experiments & the emotional core of Daybreak | Faux Poly Interviews

Emerging from Devon’s countryside sound systems and Bristol’s dub-heavy underground, Rose Holland’s journey has been one of constant reinvention. Formerly known as Dutchie, she has spent years moving through hip hop, jungle, dub, and garage before arriving at her most open and self-defined project yet. Daybreak blends soulful vocals with field recordings, breaks, and dubby textures — a sound equally introspective and club-ready.

In our chat, Rose unpacks the shift to her real name, the emotional weight behind Daybreak, and how her background as a sound engineer shapes her approach to production. From turning bin lorry hums into melodies to stacking lush vocal harmonies, her process reflects a deep curiosity for sound and a commitment to authenticity in every layer.

Hey Rose, can you give us a little insight into where you’re from, your musical journey, and your local scene?

I’m from Devon and spent most of my teenage years either in the countryside in front of home-built sound systems listening to jungle, garage, house, and all sorts of party tunes, or out sailing on the river and sea on my parent’s boat. My dad is a jazz multi-instrumentalist and got me playing piano, sax, and clarinet pretty early on — in big bands and running through classical and jazz sheet music with him at home, which was super formative.

By 15, I became obsessed with making beats and taught myself how to use Logic at home. I realised I didn’t want to study four different subjects for A Levels, so I moved to Plymouth to study a college course in Music Production. That was the start of my ‘journey’ — producing a lot of hip hop and very janky jungle at the time. I moved to Bristol in 2015 and got sucked into the dub, dubstep, and reggae vortex, starting to DJ via an open deck night called Revinyl Sessions, which I ended up co-running after a few years (shouts to the Revinyl crew!). I’ve been through quite a few musical phases, and now they’ve gradually culminated into the current Rose Holland project — I’m very grateful to the variety of communities and musical scenes I’ve moved through over the years.

You’ve been crafting under the name Dutchie since 2017 but now you've embraced your real name, Rose Holland, for the Daybreak EP. What prompted this shift?

I started the Dutchie alias when I was young and had no idea how anything worked — I just needed a name, and my housemate suggested “Dutchie.” At the time, I was making a lot of reggae, dancehall, and 140 dub-leaning tunes, so it made sense. But after a few years, my production and musical palette started expanding, and Dutchie didn’t feel like it encapsulated what I was making anymore. People thought I was still a reggae DJ, and there were a few other artists called Dutchie, which caused some issues.

I spent ages trying to find a name that felt more open and authentic. Settling on my middle and surname felt natural, and there aren’t any other Rose Holland musical artists, which is a bonus. It felt like a chance to relaunch intentionally — ‘start again’ — but with the experience, knowledge, and network I’d built over the last eight years. Stylistically, the new project draws from breaks, UK funky, acid, garage, and lots of dub echo, with vocals inspired by classic blues and soul records.

You’ve said you hope the EP “inspires women in music to keep doing their thing.” What do you want listeners to feel or consider while listening?

My music is often tied to personal emotions and experiences, and quite unintentionally, I ended up making a bunch of tunes triggered by conversations, altercations, and feelings about prejudice against women in the music industry. I’m a sound engineer by day and have dealt with a lot of unpleasant attitudes in both that work and the DJ/production sphere. The EP is a release of that tension and frustration — a way to voice it instead of carrying it in silence.

Some think equality has been achieved and that women are in a privileged position in the industry, but I wanted to remind people that while there have been positive movements, there’s still a way to go. I also wanted to encourage other women in music to voice their frustrations and not let barriers prevent them from making and sharing the art they want to create.

The EP explores field recordings. What’s your typical process for recording and manipulating these samples?

Dawn is the most field recording-heavy track on the EP. I was studying my master’s when I started it, focusing on fusing soundscape composition and electronic music practices, so I did lots of field recording. The original demo was made exclusively from found sounds.

The melodies are made from a bin lorry hum, cut into separate notes, arpeggiated, and heavily processed. Birdsong melodies are strategically pitched and placed to feel like they’re singing along, again heavily processed to remove unwanted timbres. Some build-up textures come from a crowd I recorded while mixing a show, with transients manipulated in Ableton’s clip view (which I use a lot). I also lean heavily on Soundtoys plugins like Tremolator, Crystalizer, and Echoboy Jr to morph everyday sounds into abstracted versions of themselves.

I love working with found sounds — it feels natural, playful, and exciting. This interest stems from my upbringing by the countryside and sea, where I was enveloped in amazing sonic environments that shaped my approach to sound and world-building in music.

How do you approach vocal production creatively?

I usually record a ‘scratch track’ first and often change lyrics or melodies while recording to see what works best in the project. I do multiple takes, pick my favorite parts for the lead vocal stem, record doubles, and add at least two harmony parts (often more). I stack my voice to make it wide and texturally complex, editing and comping to get everything tight.

Once the main vocals are down, I bounce the group and do resampling and audio manipulation — vocal chops, pitch changes, dubbing — treating the vocals as a musical sample and textural element. It’s a lot of fun once the groundwork is done.

How do you translate a track from the studio to stages like Glastonbury or Boomtown?

I try to play my tunes before release, testing them on installed PA systems and referencing on phones, laptops, earbuds, and car speakers. Some of my music is bass-heavy but not all tracks are meant to be dancefloor bangers — many are deep and melancholic, which can make performing them in party settings intimidating.

The track titles on Daybreak — can you tell us the story behind them?

Naming isn’t my strong suit! Dawn felt suitable with all the birds and watery elements. Clouded is based on an argument where I couldn’t get someone to see my point. Insignificant is about someone making me feel ‘less than.’ Day by Day is a more positive track, urging listeners to chip away at issues and keep progressing creatively.

What’s exciting you most in club music right now?

I’m really into multi-genre artists and events — the blurring of styles is freeing. I’m obsessed with Scuffed Recordings, Sir Hiss’ debut album, and producers like REA, Miss Jay, JPEG, and Mia Koden. I’ve also been exploring the broken beat scene, inspired by DJ Wheelup at We Out Here. Bruk — jazz-influenced, swung breaks with heavy bass — is my dream combination.

Can you give us a little insight into your upcoming projects?

Over the next year, I want to focus on collaborations, both as a producer and vocalist, reaching out to artists to cook up new ideas. I also have early concepts for my next EP and will focus on original music, after a year of remixes.